Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2)

BOOK: Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2)
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Ride to Restoration

Book 2
in the Ride Series

DJ Wilson

ebook published by Riscatto Publishing Inc.

Copyright 2015, David Wilson

No part of this eBook may be reproduced or shared by any
electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file
sharing, and email, without prior written permission from the author.

License Notes

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ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to
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own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ISBN: 978-1-60414-803-9

I humbly dedicate this book to
Dani, Darren, Robin and Julie, without whose badgering, encouragement and
assistance this sequel would not have been written.

“Life is not about

Waiting
for the Storm to Pass,

It’s
about Learning how to Dance in the Rain.”

— Vivian Green

Introduction

S
urviving both love and
loss while sailing through the tumultuous storms life haphazardly blows our way
defines our essence, oft times by peeling us to the core. If we are fortunate
enough to experience heart palpitating love, it’s only by losing it, do we
appreciate its intrinsic value. The same goes for financial security. If we
have it we’re good. If we’ve lost it, we’re screwed. Righting another’s
grievous wrong on this ride that compensated hundreds of people millions of
dollars, no matter how noble and grand I thought it seemed at the time was not
without terrible costs, excruciating heartache and significant loss.

Redemption
was the ultimate goal when I started this quest many months ago. Individuals
from all walks of life had entrusted their short and long term financial health
to a charismatic man who seemed too good to be true. Sadly, that turned out to
be true in spectacular fashion. Hope was lost and people were slowing dying
because of it. Someone had to intervene. That someone was me, along with a cast
of characters and a comedy of errors that moved this journey from one of
redemption to one of restoration.

Everyone
deserves second chances. Some even third and fourth ones. But, here comes the
tricky part. If love somehow worms its way into the equation, you

re screwed. Meeting the girl
of my dreams in the midst of my quest one glorious early morning in Tennessee,
not many months removed, was a refreshing breath of seasons wrapped up into one
delicious package I came to know as Candi.

A
perfect love story in the making, one that would make Ryan O

Neal proud, Candi raced into
my life, stole my heart over a ninety-day span and compelled me to love again.
And then the bitch went rogue, catapulting me into the arms of vivacious
Victoria who just so happened to be my friend ... my protector ... my lawyer.

Ethically,

Vic says,

I

m required to make that
point of order extremely clear
.

High
stepping into the role that Candi previously played on my ride to redemption,
Victoria joined me on my adventure home, offering her all, whether it was on
her back, her stomach or her side. I must confess ... Victoria was a player, a
master barrister at the top of her game, capable of arguing and defending any
position, including mine.

Caught
up in my drama, friends do what friends do when they

re on a bike three thousand
miles away from home, they escape ... they ride. Into the Plains of Alberta,
into the land of

Rape and Honey,

into the forests of Saskatchewan we rode. We discovered in
our travels many things that made us laugh, while confessing in our deepest,
darkest moments those things that made us cry. We were flawed, Victoria and I,
and we knew it.

Into
the heart of an innkeeper or two, into the life of a child we rode, paying it
forward as much as we could, having already dodged bullets and disaster, daring
tomorrow to find us
o
n
our journey ...
o
n
our ride. Through it all, I taught Vic the gracious art of giving. She taught
me the fine art of receiving. I taught Vic that confession is good for the
soul. She taught me that I couldn

t love another when I still
loved the one that got away. Sadly, she was right
.

Then,
reality knocked, slapped me sideways and brought me back into the world as I
knew it before I escaped to

Oz.

Seems
like everybody still wanted a piece of me. Guessing it had something to do with
the two hundred pounds of diamonds I gave away that weren

t rightly mine. Then again,
they didn

t rightfully belong to A.J. Standford, the Ponzi scheming
banker I took them from, either. But, his 2.5 million dollar bounty on my head
to anyone that would listen to him from behind prison walls said otherwise.

Toss
into the equation, Candi

s powerful Ex who, as of late, has recently developed a
nasty hard-on for me and the U.S. Marshal Service, doing their best to protect
me in spite of myself. Spin these all together and you

ve got yourself one heck of
a mess. Oh, and let

s not forget Candi

s mom and her Gambino Family
who

s
also on the outs with me. Oh Happy Day!

Thankfully,
there was the D.O.G. In the confines of a kennel in Middle Tennessee, Major
waited patiently for me to return, whereby he could resume his rightful place,
riding shotgun in my truck. I was confident, even with my current identity
compromised and my life in shambles, we could make a fresh start
somewhere,
 
Mayberry, maybe. Sounds
welcoming, doesn

t it?

Leaving
my recreated life on beautiful Dale Hollow Lake to begin again seemed
overwhelming at times. But, I

d done it before and I can do it again. First things first.
With no malice left in me, I had to find Candi again, hoping beyond hope that I
could somehow restore ... us. And with that a plan that would be played out on
my terms, not at the mercy of those who sought to do us harm.

All
this conniving is driving me nuts. A Sam Adams in hand with my head in the
clouds and my feet on the ground, I devised a scheme that would make us whole
or wind up tearing us in two. Since no other options were coming down the pike,
with the help of a trusted few, I put the game in play. The question of the day
on this ride to restoration

Would
it work?

Momma said
, “When you play with fire, you’re gonna get burned. It’s not a
question of if, but when.”
Sadly, since Candi almost took me out in the
Starbucks Drive Thru the day we met, I resemble that remark ... My question is
how bad is it gonna hurt?

Chapter 1

“G
ood
morning, barrister,” I whispered to Victoria, as she awakened sleepy-eyed
beside me, snuggled into the goose down bedding of our king sized, four-poster
bed. Wiping the sleep from her beautiful green eyes with clenched fists, fondly
reminded me of my favorite childhood cartoon character. I smiled. Then she
opened her mouth.

Victoria,
you

re on.
I almost said,

Good morning Jon David, I
loved that you held me all night long,

but caught myself.
I sure as hell don

t want him to hear that, at
least for now.


Damn you, D, you

ve done it again. This is
the second or maybe even the third time I

ve thrown my naked sultry
self into your arms and all you

ve managed to do is cuddle. Damn it, D! I do love
snuggling, but there

s only so much a girl can take when she

s wrapped you like a pretzel
and can

t
lick or kiss or bite. If I didn

t care so much for you, after all that we

ve been through, I might
develop a complex and start taking this the wrong way.

“Vic, after what we witnessed yesterday, no amount of
Canadian alcohol or a sensuous seduction from you could erase my living
nightmare over the past twenty-four hours. Pinch me will ya and tell me we’re
still in the Sioux City, Crown Plaza.”

Thinking
back, I
remember
that night vividly. I was so close to seducing this man. “If that were the case
lover boy, you’d be s
ore
and I

d be tender to the touch. If you catch
my drift,

I breathed, extending my arms, while
flicking my tongue across my lips.

Whispering
in D

s
ear, I continued, as my arms enveloped him,

Sadly
,
my friend, yesterday was
all too real. The events that cumulated over the last few days would make some
novelist a Pulitzer, I betcha. Hell, it might even make a Scorsese wannabe an
Oscar.

Pausing, reflecting, digesting
her words,

Thank you
,
I think. With that type of
assurance, I

ve gone from hoping this was all
a bad dream to waiting for my real life drama to be featured on a big screen
near us in one fell swoop. Lucky me!

Let
me regress, the events that transpired over the last few days here in Calgary,
Canada, that Vic and I are referring to, involved a girl and getting screwed
royally. Vic, who has an innate gift to read people and I, having lovingly
screwed this girl literally over the last few months were blind-sided, no we
were downright screwed by Candice for a ten million dollar reward and some
change. My guess is that old adage, you can never leave the Mafia alive rings
true, especially when your family as well as your Ex are knee deep in

the culture,

related by blood, bullets and oh yeah, marriage. That being
said, over the past two days Victoria has been kidnapped and released, traded
for Candi during one of the darkest moments of my life to date. I, on the other
hand, have been shot at, betrayed, lied to and forced to bring bodily harm to
another individual who was only doing his job at the time.

Thankfully,
I

d
made unsolicited restitution to many before the (please pardon my French)

shit

hit the fan. Trying to do
the right thing and paying it forward are the two maxims I

ve spent my entire adult
life adhering to. Except this time, it all went

south

in the end. Doing the right thing, albeit skewed by my
loneliness, coupled with the lust and desire for a delicious, willing and
receptive woo-hoo drove me to my knees. I

ve lost the girl of my
dreams, there

s still a huge bounty on my head and I

m in Calgary, Alberta with a
sex fiend who happens to be my lawyer, my friend.

Again, am I lucky or what?


What are you mumbling in my ear, D? Are you sure we can

t take your idea of
snuggling to the next level? Give me 3 minutes,

I purred, burying myself under the covers, my boobs coming
to rest on top of his thighs,

and I

ll get a rise out of you yet.


Stop it, Vic,

I stammered playfully, while firmly pushing her hot breath
and moist lips away from my rapidly rising sweats. Bolting from the bed, I made
a beeline to my day bag and retrieved the well-traveled and equally experienced
BOA.

Here
girlfriend, knock yourself out. New batteries, too.

Listening
to the rhythmic hum of the BOA as well as her ever-increasing rapid breaths
culminating beneath the sheets, I could attest to her ability to make the most
of any fluid situation. After a few long painful minutes, being a spectator,
not a participant, the humming abruptly stopped. Vic, flipping back the sheets,
sported a mischievous smile and a rather ominous glow.


Damn you, D. I wanted to take you ... and me over the top
this morning. It

s a sad, sad day, when all that

s willing is BOB, for now.


It

s not a B.O.B. Vic, it

s a B.O.A.


What

s the difference
? S
eriously
.
They

re both battery operated t
oys.


True, but this one is uniquely designed, as you

ve just so aptly proven to
accelerate your star studded experience with or without my cuddly body next to
you.

My
mind raced ahead of my mouth. It

s too soon, Victoria, don

t press it. Candi is still
fresh and raw. You

ll push him away
.

D, best you keep your sweats
on and me awash in fresh batteries and I

ll do my best to keep my
hands off you on this ride ... for now.


You always preface for now, girlfriend. That scares me. I
dare not tread the halls with you when for now no longer works. Come on Vic,

rapidly trying to change my current thought process, aka
lust, while lowering, among other things, my ever increasing heart rate,

Put some clothes on. I

m sure Josie has breakfast
waiting on us. Besides, I need something to take my mind off of ... and more importantly,
out of ... you.

Tossing
back my hair, I whispered to this man in my midst,

Beneath this lamb waits a
hungry lion. You

re teasing me, aren

t you? I know you want me.
You love my green eyes, my long auburn hair, my soft and supple, voluptuous,
milky white breasts. You

re standing over there right now fantasizing about my pouty
lips wrapped firmly around your...


STOP! Client attorney privileges only go so far
. R
emember?

I

m trying to be his friend
with benefits, not his lawyer right now. How do I say this?

Not exactly, big boy. We

re under the

grandfather clause.

I attempted to get in your pants long before I became your
lawyer. So there! Like I said, D, just keep your sweats on and the BOA fresh
and ready. Now leave me alone and let me get dressed!


Works for me, girlfriend,

grabbing my Polartec jacket, on the way downstairs.

If you please, I

ll skip a shower this
morning. I can see you joining me, in all your glory, offering to wash my
back...


Among other things, I might add, D. Don

t forget the
other
things.


OK, among other things, which in my current condition,

I confessed, while lowering my eyes to my tented jeans,

I doubt I could refuse.

Pursing,
pouting lips,
I
followed
that with
a
devious, determined smile that only I could produce,
then
I slung a pillow at him,

Out!

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