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  Havoc

  BOOK #3 IN THE MOONSHINE TASK FORCE SERIES

  LARAMIE BRISCOE

  Copyright © 2017 Laramie Briscoe

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. The author recognizes the copyright of Brantley Gilbert, Coke, Netflix, and Moonshine. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  Edited by: Elfwerks Editing

  Cover Art by: Kari Ayasha, Cover to Cover Designs

  Proofread by: Dawn Bourgeois

  Beta Read by: Keyla Handley & Danielle Wentworth

  Formatted by: Paul Salvette

  Cover Photography: CJC Photography

  Cover Model: Bryan T. Snell

  ALSO BY LARAMIE BRISCOE

  Heaven Hill Series

  Meant To Be

  Out of Darkness

  Losing Control

  Worth The Battle

  Dirty Little Secret

  Second Chance Love

  Rough Patch

  Beginning of Forever

  Home Free

  Shield My Heart

  A Heaven Hill Christmas

  Heaven Hill Generations (Spin-off Series)

  Hurricane

  Rockin’ Country Series

  Only The Beginning

  One Day at a Time

  The Price of Love

  Full Circle

  Reaper’s Girl

  The Red Bird Trail Trilogy

  Flagger

  In-Tune

  Collision

  Stand Alone

  Sketch

  Sass

  Trick

  Moonshine Task Force Series

  Renegade

  Tank

  Havoc

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  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also by Laramie Briscoe

  About the Book

  Author’s Note

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Epilogue

  From the Author

  Connect with Laramie

  Excerpt from Meant To Be

  When a marriage of convenience turns into the passion of a lifetime…

  Holden “Havoc” Thompson

  My job as the leader of the Moonshine Task Force is my life. I eat, breathe, and sleep it. The men under my command mean the world to me. Knowing they count on my guidance has kept my demons at bay for longer than I care to admit.

  The control I have over myself is an iron fist that sometimes threatens to squeeze the life out of me. What I want more than anything is to live again – someone to show me the light when all we have in our line of work is darkness.

  I don’t expect it to come in the form of a Moonshiner’s daughter needing my protection.

  Leighton Strather

  My whole life has been defined by who my family is. In the state of Alabama, we’re number one with a target on our backs. The danger and prestige isn’t for me. I don’t care about the money, and I care too much about the families we’ve ruined.

  My brother and my dad are proud of it. They wear their arrest records like a badge of honor. Me? I want as far away from the lifestyle as I can get.

  It’s the only reason I ask Holden to marry me. At least that’s what I tell myself.

  I never expect his whispered yes to cause such upheaval in my life. Even though I resist, I learn some havoc is good – and this one? It’s a whirlwind of lust, hope, and love and all I can do is let it sweep me away.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  While the series is called The Moonshine Task Force Series, please be aware the task force is what bought most of these men together. It’s the catalyst (if you will) that has made the friendship of the five men you’ll meet in the series.

  Like most of my recent books, these are character-driven. The action, as it is, advances the storyline or sets up the storyline for subsequent books. There won’t be manufactured drama or manufactured storyline. These are very much what you see, is what you get. Each book follows one member, and you’ll get to see how they change and grow through-out the course of the series.

  I hope you’ll love the third story featuring Havoc & Leighton, and you’ll come back for the last two.

  While this can be read as a standalone, it’s recommended you first read “Renegade” and “Tank” since those two books set up this storyline!

  Enjoy!

  Laramie

  Havoc

  PROLOGUE

  Havoc

  Six Months Earlier

  “Holden, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do you part?”

  It’s hard to swallow against the lump in my throat. I worry that I’m doing the wrong thing here. Making this young girl trade in one life she didn’t want to live for another. But as I look at her, I see a future for me. One I’d never thought possible. As a rule, I don’t trust women, but I have trusted her since I met her.

  For six months I’ve lived with her, learning the type of person she is, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that she has a good heart. In some ways she’s a product of her environment, in other’s she’s risen above and beyond. I want to be the person who helps her realize her destiny, the future she can have. I’ve come to care for her, come to be her friend, and I know there’s nothing I won’t do for her. Somehow, she’s wormed her way beyond my defenses and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to not only make her happy, but keep her safe.

  “I do,” I answer, and mean it.

  I take a moment to look at her. The brown hair that shines black in certain lights, hangs in curls and a braid around her face. Her white dress is a lace number that stops at the top of her thighs. Maybe a little too risqué for wedding? Probably, but it shows off her a
mazing legs. She wears pearls in her ears, like any good southern woman on a special occasion, and there’s a small pendant at her throat that I can’t quite make out. I want to lean forward and study it, discover all her secrets, all her desires.

  I’m brought out of my daydream as the man in front of us starts speaking again. The Justice of the Peace asks her the same question. Looking into those brown eyes of hers, I search for hesitation, for fear, but my girl? She has none. As I prepare to slide the ring on her finger, I’m reminded that for now, she is mine, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her. My life is more vibrant with her in it, and maybe it’s exactly what I’ve needed.

  Leighton

  “Leighton, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do you part?”

  I stand next to the man who’s protected me since he picked me up from the back of Blaze Coleman’s ambulance, and I give him the same thing I started with – my trust and my acceptance. Over the past few months, I’ve wanted to give him more, but he isn’t receptive yet. I’m hopeful that the ring he’s about to place on my finger and the one I’m about to place on his will change things. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t, but there’s no denying I’m happier now than I’ve ever been in my life.

  “I do,” I whisper, feeling the impact of these two words. I know exactly what they mean now and what they will mean in the future.

  We repeat more words, make a few more promises, and my heart pounds as I realize it’s time for the kiss. We’ve done this once before, not that anyone knows it, but that kiss? It had been out of control, two people with no pasts not sure of their future. I wonder how he’ll kiss me this time? Will he let me start with the control again, or will he take control from the moment our lips touch? Will he grasp the strands of my hair in his fingers and tug me in the direction he wants me to go?

  I lean up, grasping at the front of the white button-down shirt he wears. My fingers tug on the material and I tilt my head to the side, leaving it open, leaving it up to him. My heart pounds in my chest as his face gets closer to mine. The smattering of a slight beard, the pink-red hue of those full lips, the long eyelashes that feather against the freckles he has on his cheeks – I see it all as he bends me to his will. He wraps his arms around my waist; I in turn wrap mine around his neck, pulling him down as he tugs me close. He pauses, his eyes searching mine, before he takes the kiss that now belongs to him. This kiss is different than our last; chaste in the way he takes my lips, and disappointing in the way he doesn’t take my tongue.

  When he ends it quickly, I all but stumble back, because I was all-in with giving myself over to him. He holds me tightly, a smirk twitching the corner of his lips.

  “Congratulations, Holden and Leighton.”

  We both turn to the man who officiated our wedding, thanking him. Holden puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me out of the room. I hold our certificate in our hands as I watch the next couple enter the room. So that was it, huh? I’m now a married woman. Something told me I’d feel different, and right now, I don’t.

  Holden’s got his cell phone out, texting to someone. Then he puts it back in his pocket, loosening the tie he’s wearing. “So you want to go grab some dinner? We can head to Birmingham, to someplace nice.”

  “Sure,” I agree. I’m a little shell-shocked and not sure how to respond. This had definitely been our plan for the day, but at the same time, I wasn’t sure whether we’d go through with it.

  When we get to his truck, he opens the door and helps me up so that I don’t flash everyone on the street. When he goes to help me buckle around the bouquet of flowers I’m holding, he grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing it down, forcing our eyes to meet.

  “Change your last name as soon as possible, Leigh. The quicker we can get you away from anything having to do with Strather, the better off you’ll be.”

  “People in this town aren’t going to forget where I came from,” I remind him, letting myself drown for just a moment in those eyes of his.

  “If I have anything to say about it, they will. You let me worry for the both of us.”

  He leans in, kissing my cheek, before he lets go to make his way around the front of the truck. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Life as I have always known it has just changed in a big way.

  An over six-foot, two-hundred pound, heavily tattooed kinda way.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Leighton

  Present Day

  Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had never met Holden Thompson in a capacity other than an official one having to do with his job. Our civilian introduction is kind of a funny story. It involves a shot of whiskey and my first game of truth or dare. In this small town, my last name is synonymous with Moonshine, anything illegal, and now the accident that injured Trevor Trumbolt.

  A year and a half ago though, right before Whitney Trumbolt and Ryan Kepler became an item, I’d stood up to my family and had gone to Birmingham for one semester of college. It was the first time I rebelled against them all. I said fuck my last name, my family, and their reputation. I was going to make my own way. Ultimately, I paid for it by being arrested for them. But the night I truly met Holden Thompson is forever ingrained in my brain.

  “C’mon Leighton! You mean to tell me you’ve never done anything reckless?”

  I swallow the drink of beer I sucked down hard. Reckless? My whole family is reckless, but me? I like to stay on the fringes, obey the law, and do my absolute best to be a good person. Growing up I was lucky if I was able to ride on a different seat on the school bus without someone telling my dad. He believed in keeping a tight leash on who many dubbed the Princess of Moonshine. I figure maybe a half-truth is better than an out-right lie. “Depends on what you mean by reckless.”

  One of the other girls we’re sitting with does the shot in front of her, hands me one, and grins at me. “The next man to walk through that door,” she points to the entrance, “is gonna be kissed by you tonight.”

  I’ve never played “truth or dare” or any of those games most girls played at sleepovers; truth is, I was never invited. Everyone was scared of my family. This is my shot, in some ways, to experience the pieces of life I’ve never been able to. If that means taking the shot of alcohol in front of me and kissing the next man who walks through that door – no matter how not my type he is, I’ll do it. Even if it’s only to say I’m part of this group.

  Tipping my head back, I put the rim of the glass up to my lips and let the heat of the alcohol travel down my throat into my stomach. I can hold my liquor, it’d be an embarrassment to my family if I couldn’t, but even I’m starting to feel the effects of the amount we’ve been partaking in tonight. Hopping down from the bar top table we’ve been occupying, I lick my numb lips and wait to see who fate is going to put in my path.

  The door opens and over the bass thumping in the background, I can hear a couple of guys talking to one another. The first one steps forward and my mouth hangs at the jaw. Holden Thompson, commander of The Moonshine Task Force stands in front of me.

  I’ve always thought he was one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen in my life. And make no mistake about it – he’s a man. If I had to hazard a guess, he’s probably fifteen years my senior, but he’s never treated me like a little girl when he’s come to our house to question any of the family members who are in trouble. Last time he talked to me like I was almost an equal.

  “Leighton?” Those plump, pink-red lips question, an eyebrow raised. That’s when I realize my eyes have gone right to his mouth. Truth be known, I’ve wondered what those lips feel like. They look soft, a softness I’ve never experienced before. The kisses I’ve had before were stolen and rough, leaving me wondering what everyone else went on raving about.

  I realize I’ve been glued to the floor for a long time. He’s still got his eyebrow raised, w
ondering what I’m doing standing in front of him. I take my time walking closer to him, because more than anything, I want to remember this one reckless moment when it doesn’t matter who I am, who he is. No, walking isn’t the correct term. For the first time in my life, I strut; I want a man’s eyes on me, and I want him to appreciate what he’s seeing.

  His hair is buzzed, not long like Trevor Trumbolt’s, or full like Ryan Kepler’s. Holden is his own man with his own set of likes and dislikes. His dark, brown eyes look at me, asking the same question his mouth did just a few seconds before. He’s wearing a gray tank top on this hot night; almost summer and sweat is already visible on his biceps. It makes the tattoos he has inked there stand out in stark relief against his tan skin. The lights of the bar reflect off the smooth ridges and planes of his body, casting shadows on parts I’d like to explore.

  My hands shake as I shove them to his waist, gripping the cotton of the tank top he wears, dragging him to me. I take him by surprise, but he quickly recovers and takes me the same way. One of my hands leaves his stomach, traveling up to his neck, pulling him down to my level so my lips can capture his. He’s got to be at least six-two to my five-four.

  They’re soft and hard at the same time, surprised and demanding as I melt against him, a five o-clock shadow rasping against my smooth face. The kiss I initiated, he takes control of as he digs a hand through my hair cupping the back of my head in his palm.

  I don’t know for how long we stand there kissing, making out like teenagers, but I become aware of the hard length of him pressing against my stomach and the tips of my hard nipples rubbing against his chest. I tell myself I have to stop this, it wasn’t supposed to go this far. The dare was one little kiss, not a make-out session capable of landing us in lock up for public indecency.

  Pulling back, he chases me, his lips following mine as I retreat. We’re breathing heavily, taking up space between each other’s lips. “I can’t do this,” I whisper.