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    Control Me: An MC Romance: Bleeding Angels MC, #3
    Control Me: An MC Romance: Bleeding Angels MC, #3
    Control Me: An MC Romance: Bleeding Angels MC, #3
    Ebook134 pages1 hour

    Control Me: An MC Romance: Bleeding Angels MC, #3

    By Evelyn Glass

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    About this ebook

    Control Me is book 3 of the Bleeding Angels MC series. Books 4-6, Deny Me, Protect Me, and Unchain Me are available everywhere now!

    I was left a prisoner to the worst people in the world.
    He was my only ray of hope. The only man I've ever loved.
    We swore to keep each other safe. 
    Even if it means both of us doing the unthinkable.

    AIMEE
    Six years ago, they gunned my father down in the streets like a dog. 
    Ever since that day, I was left a prisoner to the worst people in the world.

    My only comfort came from Jake. He was my best friend, my rock, my one reason to live.
    He's the only man who could make me forget all the terrible memories.
    Who makes me feel whole. 

    He's my best friend, but I want something more.
    I just hope that he'll see it.

    Before it's too late. 
    Before the Bleeding Angels take away what little hope and dignity we have left.

    JAKE
    The two of us were always close. Best friends since we were in diapers.
    But our destiny was always going to be different.

    She had a glimmer of hope, and all I have were the Bleeding Angels.
    I can see the way Aimee looks at me. I know what she wants, because I feel it too.

    And when one of the bastards in the Bleeding Angels put their hands on her, something snapped inside of me. Awakened a monster that I can't hold back.

    The devils want to take away what little she has left, and I'll do whatever it takes to save her.
    Because she's mine.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublishereBook Publishing World
    Release dateAug 9, 2018
    ISBN9781386862253
    Control Me: An MC Romance: Bleeding Angels MC, #3

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      Book preview

      Control Me - Evelyn Glass

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      CONTROL ME: Bleeding Angels MC (Book 3)

      By Evelyn Glass

      C:\Users\Brett\AppData\Local\Microsoft\Windows\INetCache\Content.Word\Evelyn Glass_Control Me_resized.jpg

      I WAS LEFT A PRISONER to the worst people in the world.

      He was my only ray of hope. The only man I’ve ever loved.

      We swore to keep each other safe.

      Even if it means both of us doing the unthinkable.

      AIMEE

      Six years ago, they gunned my father down in the streets like a dog.

      Ever since that day, I was left a prisoner to the worst people in the world.

      My only comfort came from Jake. He was my best friend, my rock, my one reason to live.

      He’s the only man who could make me forget all the terrible memories.

      Who makes me feel whole.

      He’s my best friend, but I want something more.

      I just hope that he’ll see it.

      Before it’s too late.

      Before the Bleeding Angels take away what little hope and dignity we have left.

      JAKE

      The two of us were always close. Best friends since we were in diapers.

      But our destiny was always going to be different.

      She had a glimmer of hope, and all I have were the Bleeding Angels.

      I can see the way Aimee looks at me. I know what she wants, because I feel it too.

      And when one of the bastards in the Bleeding Angels put their hands on her, something snapped inside of me. Awakened a monster that I can’t hold back.

      The devils want to take away what little she has left, and I’ll do whatever it takes to save her.

      Because she’s mine.

      Chapter 1

      Ilook over at my mother before I head back inside. Her attention is focused on something in the distance. It strikes me how she looks exactly like she used to at home—physically sitting in our family room but mentally a world away. I wonder why I thought that just because she was able to say a few words, she would turn back into the woman she was before. It’s been so long since I’ve seen that person, I wonder if I would even recognize her if she did ever reappear.

      Lunch’ll be ready soon Mom, I say softly, at a loss of what else to communicate to her. She makes no move to show that she’s understood or even heard me—she just keeps on looking at some fixed point, far away from here. I suppose that’s where she’s been trying to get to all these years. Anywhere but here.

      I hurry back inside and hand the mint I’ve gathered wordlessly to Sally, who manages to read the expression on my face. She’s doing well. She’s getting better... slowly. She grasps my hand reassuringly as I pass her the herbs.

      I sit down on one of the mismatched chairs at the table with a heavy thud. I feel like such an idiot. I put my head in my hands miserably. I thought that I was going to come here and she was going to be like herself, how she was before, I clarify, speaking from behind my hands.

      I feel rather than see Sally take a seat next to me, and she puts her hand on my shoulder. It was never going to be an overnight fix, sweetie.

      I get that Sal, I say, lifting my face up. But she still seems like she’s barely there. One minute she knows who I am, but the next minute she doesn’t have any clue what’s going around her, I explain. "She didn’t even know who you were," I say, flinging my hand out in the general direction of the deck where my mom is probably still sitting staring out at the sky.

      She has good moments and bad moments, Sally explains matter-of-factly, and suddenly she looks tired, like the weight of the world has just fallen on her shoulders. Sally would never be described as traditionally pretty. Not like my mother, who was apparently the belle of the town. But it’s Sally’s sunny disposition and easy smile that makes her beautiful. She’ll help anyone that she can and, in this case, she’s helping my mom and me. She’s talking. That’s a huge step forward, Sally notes encouragingly.

      I nod along with her. It’s not something I can deny. I guess I just thought, after all the drama of the other night and her ‘awakening’ or whatever you want to call it... I peter out, not knowing how to continue.

      You thought you’d have your mom back, Sally finishes for me with trademark intuition.

      I nod sadly. I know it sounds crazy, but I thought I’d finally be able to talk to her and tell her what she’s been missing all these years. Maybe have it out with her. I shrug.

      Have it out with her? Sally asks, clearly confused.

      I’ve been so angry at her for so long for not being around when I needed her, I explain, and Sally’s eyes soften in understanding. She’s my mom, and of course I love her. But I lost someone too that day. It’s not just her that misses him. My voice rises a little too loudly. I quickly glance over to the closed door to the deck in case I’ve been overheard. I shake my head at myself almost immediately—it’s not like my mother would have understood what I was saying even if she had heard.

      I know sweetie, and I’m pretty sure that deep down, somewhere, your mom knows that too. She squeezes my hand with feeling. Just give her some time.

      I know. I will. I try to keep the tightness out of my smile as I think to myself that time is the one thing we’re running out of fast.

      Your mom loves you, Aimee. Don’t ever forget that, Sally tells me. Mothers love their kids over and above everything else. It’s just how we’re built, she says, shrugging as she stands. She turns back to the stove, finishing off the food she’s cooking, which looks like it might be enough to feed the five thousand.

      Sally’s words echo in my head and I think back to that photograph that I found—the one of her and Travis, before he was Scar, at Jake’s birthday party. I haven’t asked her about it yet. Partly because I’m afraid to, and partly because I don’t know if anything other than bad things can come from it. Sometimes it’s better to let sleeping dogs lie, I tell myself. But sometimes it’s not.

      Sally, I open with, after a moment. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I get up and joining her by the stove so I can gauge her reaction.

      Oh? she asks, looking indifferent enough. But I think I catch a tone in her voice that I can’t quite place.

      That day that I came to the post office, when I told you what was going to happen. What was going to happen to Jake, I remind her. I try to suppress the feeling of panic that courses through me whenever I think about it.

      I try not to think too much about that day, Sally says quietly.

      I suppose that should have been my signal to stop talking and to leave things be. But I’ve never been very good at holding back when I have something to say.

      I know, but there was something you said that I didn’t understand. I spread my hands out in confusion. How did you know that the Angels wouldn’t come for you and your family if Jake and I got out of town? I ask, choosing my words as carefully as I can. But clearly not carefully enough.

      Sally doesn’t say anything, and the seconds stretch out to feel like minutes. She looks like a deer caught in headlights and, immediately, I regret having asked the question. She doesn’t deserve me interrogating her after everything she’s already been through. Real sensitive, Aimee, I berate myself.

      There are some things that it’s best not to understand, Sally says eventually, her voice colder than I’ve ever heard it, making me shiver in spite of myself.

      I’m sorry, Sal. You’re right, it’s none of my business, I tell her, cursing myself for having been so insensitive.

      Momma, I’m hungry! Jonah’s plaintive whine from behind me breaks the tension of the moment.

      Well what a good thing, because lunch is ready. Sally laughs as she sweeps her little son up in her arms and kisses him all over his face while he giggles like a maniac.

      Would you mind calling the boys, Aimee? she asks, her voice back to normal, but she doesn’t turn to look at me.

      No problem, I reply, striding out of the room as fast as my legs will carry me.

      I find Jake and his dad still playing around with whatever engine part is taking up most of the coffee table.

      How’s it going? I ask, inspecting the greasy mess. I try to push the conversation I’ve just had with Sally to the back of my head.

      We’ll get there, Bill replies, still staring at the table like

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