Her Knightmare Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
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Read Online Books/Novels:

Her Knightmare

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Sam Crescent

Language:
English
ISBN/ ASIN:
9781773397238
Book Information:

If Dwayne Carson comes for you, you’ll wish for death long before he will let you find it. No one can match him. He has more kills than any other Carson, including his father and uncles. He is your worst nightmare—but when an eighteen-year-old girl is abducted, Dwayne agrees to save her for a price.
Charity has never been so afraid in her life. Being taken, threatened, beaten, nearly broken, she doesn’t believe anyone will come for her. But someone does. One man saves her from her captors, and she’ll never forget him. But now she’s back in her old world, expected to carry on as if nothing ever happened.
The only person who makes her feel normal is Dwayne. He’s back in her life now, and she can’t stay away. She should be terrified of him, but he’s the only one that makes her feel safe, the only person in the world she trusts. But a crime lord always has enemies, and his life is a dangerous one. Is there room in it for Charity?
Can these two people find a love that will last forever?
Books by Author:

Sam Crescent Books



Prologue

Fifteen years after Her Monster

“He has to be stopped,” Caleb Carson said, pacing his brother’s office.

Beast just sat behind his desk, smiling. “What’s the matter, Caleb? Afraid of our little nephew?”

“Will you stop turning this into a fucking joke? This is not a joke, Beast. This is fucking serious. Do you have any idea what they’re calling him?” Caleb pointed outside the door, and Beast sat back, watching his brother.

“I’m aware.”

“They’re calling him a fucking nightmare. That’s what he is now. He took out fifty men in a nightclub.”

“And dealt with the local cops and the cleanup. I don’t see the problem.”

“You think cleaning up his own mess is the only problem here?”

“Dwayne has proven himself time and time again. That’s all he ever wanted to do, and as far as I’m concerned, he’s done it. He’s got himself a reputation, he can handle himself. Considering his start in life, I think he’s turned out quite all right.”

“And when he takes on too many and either dies or we have new enemies?”

“Then we’ll take care of them, Caleb. I’m proud of all that Dwayne has accomplished. You should be too. Go home to your beautiful wife and children. Sleep easier knowing our nightmare is on the streets hunting. I know I certainly do.”

Chapter One

The stench in the downtown bar sickened him. Dwayne had seen many places like this; filth everywhere. The stink of piss, sex, and vomit was heavy in the air, and degradation was part of their lives. No one gave a fuck about what happened in this part of the city. The crumbling apartment buildings, the whores on the street, the useless waste of life walking day to day—no one gave a shit. Kids playing out in the street, filthy clothes on their backs, their mothers probably trying to screw their way to making a couple of dollars. Probably not even to feed their own kid but to shoot up.

He fucking hated this place.

He hated the world and all the scum in it.

No one paid him any attention, but that was fine. He had a lead on some fucking pimp who’d been stealing Carson women off the street.

Their family didn’t have women working on corners, taking whatever fucking john who wanted to get his dick wet, or finally know what it was like to fuck in the ass. No, Carson women were kept safe. All of their punters were run through a program to make sure they were.

He couldn’t stand men who knocked women around.

His father had been one of them.

A wife-beater and child abuser until his Uncle Beast came to get him. Then Dwayne had never heard another word from the man.

There was a time when he was quite young that he believed he’d leave the lifestyle. Beast gave him that option to walk away, but he couldn’t do it. Being part of the Carson family was something he craved. Getting up at the early hours of the morning to train every single day gave him a drive. Fighting, learning his weapons, and honing his craft every single day had given him focus.

His uncles were fearless, and their reputations preceded them. He wanted a name, a reputation, but he also wanted to make sure that when he arrived, people fucking shit themselves in fear.

It kind of amused him to sit down at a bar and watch it slowly empty as they waited for him to shoot up the place. No one took the piss out of him, nor did they believe they were safe.

No matter the time.

No matter the place.

His enemies would always be taken down. He’d proven it time and time again, which was why he was in a shitty as fuck bar at two in the morning, sitting on a stool. The bartender was high on something, and Dwayne saw the bruising around his inner arm from the shit he’d injected. He poured him a shot, but Dwayne had no intention of drinking it. He didn’t touch the bar, but from his vantage point he saw everything. The bar wasn’t that big, but it was crowded. This was a place where Garcia was known for distributing women and girls that he picked up from the street.

This was his own personal task that he’d set himself.

When Williams, their informant in the police force, had told him what was going down, Dwayne couldn’t look the other way. Especially as Williams put faces to the names he was spouting out. If Dwayne didn’t have to think of the faces, the people, the names, he could carry on with his life without a single fucking thought.

Williams clearly knew this, and now Dwayne was hunting, especially as Beast got a visit from a wealthy family. He’d been in a meeting when one of Beast’s men said they were clearly desperate.

To Dwayne, rich people had no emotion. Their only drive was their wealth, but the look on their faces, the devastation, had touched him. Their eighteen-year-old daughter, Charity, had been taken from the street. She’d been gone twenty-four hours, and they were willing to pay anything.



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