Broken Road - Book 2 in the Breaking Black Series and the sequel to Black Horse
It is
often said that time heals all wounds. It is spoken like a promise... a vow.
These words are repeated to people who have been beaten down to their lowest
state. To the poor souls who have nothing left to lose. Whispered into the ear
of a grieving daughter, told with a shrug to a man who has nothing left to live
for.
These are
dangerous people.
The
down-trodden.
The grieving.
The ones
who love more people dead than alive.
The words
should never be uttered. Not to the ones who have no solid ground on which to
stand upon, no rail in which to clasp. The white-knuckled moments of life have
come to be expected rather than feared.
"Time heals all wounds."
The words
are an insult. A slap in the face... and around here, they'll get you hurt. For
Averi McClain and her husband Colt, there were few deeper insults.
If time
could heal all wounds, Jessa McClain would be proud to know that she was going
to be a grandmother. Nathan Ford would have proudly walked his little girl down
the aisle with Corinne beaming from her seat. Sitting by her side, Anna McCord
would wipe a tear from her eye. Standing proudly by Colt and Randy at the
arbor, Seth would have stood as a groomsman for his childhood friend. That is,
if time truly healed all wounds.
But what
about the hurts you cannot see? The deep gashes and the mangled hearts that
remain after the brutality of a war. Their childhood was a battlefield. Colt
and Averi didn't want that for their own sons and daughters.
What does
time to do wounds? Time is nothing but a reminder of how much time has past
since you last saw the ones you love most. The line is bullshit. A scape goat.
A cheap cop out. It is something people say when they don't know what to say.
It's not deep or sympathetic. It doesn't stop the heart from bleeding. Colt
would not have a granite wall built around his heart like a fortress. A barrier
which only Averi could crack.
Randy's
soul would not quake with anger every time he heard mention of Black Horse, his
roving band of lunatics, also known as the Seventy Devils, or Jimmy Hearns. You
can’t even say the name Trent Myers to him without his sanity flickering out of
sight. Tim wouldn't have to fight his anger out at the gym for several hours,
five days a week. Shelly's sense of security would be intact and undisturbed.
Averi's legs would not be permanently scarred with evidence of Black Horse's
fiery insanity.
Time doesn't
heal all wounds. Wounds fester. Sometimes the strain and exertion of trying to
get
better puts so much stress on the wound that the scab rips open, stitches and
scar tissue be damned.
Some
wounds cannot be mended.
Some
lines are just begging to be crossed.
Some
roads are meant to be broken.
As one of
Averi's favorite bands so poignantly croons, "God blessed the broken road
that led me straight to you." In the case of Colt and Averi, no song
lyrics could more perfectly describe the road that they have traveled. They
have a love like no other, acting as a guiding light, a beacon in a world turned
dark by Black Horse. What would you do if the the one man you couldn’t live
without, was the son of the bastard that murdered your parents and your eldest
brother? In the case of Averi Ford, she knew Colt was nothing like his father.
He had spent his entire life running from his shadow. He had always been the
one to protect Averi, even moreso than her ever watchful brothers. You can’t
turn away from a love like that.
Theirs
was a love that was intensified by pain and longing, desperation and heartache.
They faced seemingly unsurmountable odds, and continue to do so, side by side.
She needed him, not to be her hero, but as her equal and her friend until the
end of their days. He needed her, not only physically, but spiritually,
emotionally, he had wrapped all his hope in her. His humanity relied on her
happiness. If her heart ceased to beat, he would let the darkness overcome him.
He wouldn't stop until every single member of the Seventy Devils were dead.
Lord
knows Randy and Tim would fight right alongside him. Averi was as essential to
Colt as oxygen. Without her, the Colt that she knew and loved would cease to
exist. They loved each other despite the odds they faced; in spite of those who
said they shouldn't. Averi loved him regardless of his family history, of the
stares and gossip, the upturned noses and blatant hostility. When Colt McClain
walks into a room, the citizens of Oakely don't see him. They don't see his
face or his kind soul. They don't see him at all. They see Black Horse - the
man he so closely resembles, but whose hearts are night and day. There is a key
difference. There is a gentle warmth to Colt's gaze. A calm depth that if you
look deep enough, you can see all the good in him. Look into Black Horse's eyes
and you'll see your own demise. When people look Colt's way, they see a
murderer, a thief, a snake. They see a man with no soul. But Colt never killed
a man that didn't have it coming, and let me tell you, Jimmy Hearns has it
coming.
Most
motorcycle clubs are not street gangs, but in the case of the Seventy Devils,
there was no point in hiding it. The Seventy Devils ran the streets of Oakeley.
The Seventy Devils, the band of lawless savages that did Black Horse's bidding,
lived on, leaderless and hell bent on anarchy. When the strange circumstances
surrounding Black Horse's death went public, Jimmy monopolized. Playing the
role of a mourning son, Jimmy earned the respect and the power Texas' most
violent motorcycle gang. To say the devils are out for blood is an
understatement of epic proportions. The band of sociopathic heathens were
rallied by Black Horse's death. It was a call to action, a call to arms, each
one of them thirsty to drain the blood from Black Horse's murderer. Each one
yearning to display his killer's head on a pike for the whole community to see.
If the Seventy Devils were hostile during Black Horse's reign, it was nothing
compared to their mental state after Black Horse was found burned, shot and
murdered.
A war has
erupted. The Seventy Devils are scattered and on alert, gnawing at the bit for
the go-ahead to strike. They would not hesitate to spill the blood of anyone
who stood in their way of recompense. They knew they would need to act fast if
they wanted to come out on top. Colt was not the kind of guy that you slept on.
He'd stop at nothing to protect his family and he was lethal whether he was
heavily armed or going toe to toe, bare knuckled beat-down style. Colt did have
Black Horse's blood coursing through his veins, after all. But then, so did
Jimmy, and he is ready to show everyone that the apple didn't fall far from the
tree... in fact, they appear to have formed on the same poisoned branch.
As leader
of the Devils, Jimmy had seventy miscreants to do his bidding - and three goals
in which he needed to achieve:
1. Avenge Black Horse
2. Kill Colt McClain and Randy Ford
3. Take Averi for his own
Jimmy has
another thing coming if he thinks victory is easily won. Will Colt and Averi's
broken road end in tragedy? Or will they be the ones to banish the devils
straight to hell? When the demons of the past rise up, can Colt and Randy face
them fearless and determined? Whatever happens, don't expect Colt and Randy to
stand alone. Buckle up. The broken road makes for one hell of a ride.
Want more Broken Road? Check out these teasers!
To the Broken Road Release Party!
https://www.facebook.com/events/289136587927849/?source=1
Hope to see you there!
Vivian Winslow was born and raised in Southern California. Before becoming a writer, she made a career out of moving around the world every couple of years thanks to her husband’s job. She currently lives in New York City with her husband and two elementary school age children, and is grateful to finally have a place to call home for more than two years. New York is the perfect city to indulge her love of shopping, the arts and especially food. If she’s not at home writing or running around the city with her kids, you’ll most likely find her indulging in pizza on the Lower East Side or having a cocktail at her favorite bar in Alphabet City. That said, she’s still a California girl at heart and would gladly trade in her heels for a pair of flip-flops to catch a sunset on the beach
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