Lee Hard Pass

1. Auflage 2026
ISBN: 978-1-7644752-0-4
Verlag: PublishDrive
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 353 Seiten

Reihe: Hardwood Series

In the heart-pounding sequel to *Hard Time*, Felicity Reid and Lance Hardwood's forbidden romance ignites a deadly inferno. As New York's underworld erupts in gang wars and betrayals, the high-powered lawyer and biker kingpin flee into a global storm of assassins, hackers, and shadowy cartels-from Istanbul's treacherous alleys to high-seas hideouts and beyond.

With rivals like Hoss and El Jefe closing in, and an elite taskforce tightening the noose, every alliance is a trap, every escape a razor's edge. *Hard Pass* is a relentless thriller of passion, vengeance, and survival-where one wrong move means oblivion, and love demands the ultimate sacrifice. Dare to dive in?

Autoren/Hrsg.

Lee, Edward

Leseproben

Chapter 1

There was always something really special about New York in the Fall. The warmth of summer still lingered and was illuminated by the fiery orange leaves that now engulfed the cityscape in a gorgeous inferno of natural beauty. The city that never sleeps could almost be felt falling into a little bit of a lull as the days grew ever cooler, leading into winter. Much of the beauty of the season had been missed on Lance and Felicity as they had tried to adjust to their new lives and create some form of normality.

Felicity had been neck deep in paperwork at Hughes & Munster, often getting up before the sun rose and returning well after it had disappeared towards California. Firm Partnership hadn’t quite been what she thought it would be. Felicity had always assumed that as she progressed, she would be getting paid twice as much to work half as hard. The former part of the statement had been very accurate. Felicity was raking in salary hand over fist; her finances couldn’t have been raining in on her harder if Michael W Smith had written the lyrics himself. However, she had been working hard for the money and was beginning to feel the fatigue of the last few months. That holiday to Hawaii that she had promised Lance, while being easily financially viable, seemed more like a pipe dream rather than a plan now. Several times in the past month, Felicity had fallen asleep at her desk, in front of her laptop. Her slumber, each time, had been interrupted by a paranoid Lance who was calling to make sure she hadn’t been the victim of a rival gang hit.

Lance had also been buried in work. His, however, had less paperwork and more strategic planning. Lance had been holed up in the Reaper clubhouse every day for the past week, planning hypothetical attacks on his own gang. He had thought about every possible way to penetrate his own brotherhood’s defences. Every opportunity to strike at their drug trade, money laundering businesses and even at the clubhouse itself. Every time he found a chink in their armour, he and Chuck had strategized a way to fill it and reinforce the Reapers standing in that part of town. The Reapers were, in all sense of the term, impenetrable as a unit. The only way to go after them without anything short of a small army would be attacks on personal homes. The personal side of this was never a real concern for Lance, he had always just had himself to look after. Now he had an entirely new liability with him. A being that he couldn’t bear to lose, either by a bullet or by letting go of what they had for her safety. Days were spent ensuring diplomacy was upheld with other gangs to guarantee that nothing unexpected happened. Nights were spent waking up at the slightest noise which, in New York, was all too common an occurrence. As fall began to take full effect, Lance was finally starting to feel a bit of security sinking back into his anxious soul. Luke had died three months ago. The time to take the Reapers while they were weak had come and gone. The brothers in red had rallied and were once again becoming a force to be reckoned with in New York. Their numbers were going up month by month and the revenue being brought in from their different income streams were almost more than they could launder without expanding. Apart from the times that Felicity had nearly started gang wars by falling asleep at the office and not coming home, Lance was finally starting to settle into his new life with some level of ease and comfort.

Looking at his watch, the reality of time hit Lance harder than DeVaughn’s fists a few months prior. He was late and tonight was supposed to be a special night for himself and Felicity.

“Shit! Chuck, I’ve gotta run, man.” Lance called out as he leapt from his seat and made his way towards the garage of the clubhouse.

“Where do you think you’re going bro?” Chuck asked, indignantly. “We haven’t finished the contingencies for Felicity’s new apartment.”

Lance looked over his shoulder without breaking stride, “I have all the faith in the world in you, my man.”

Chuck’s eyes narrowed. “Motherfucker, don’t get smart with me. I’m here for my looks, not my tactical organisation. Get back here and help me finish this.”

“You’ve got this, bro.” Lance called out as he exited the room, cheekily switching off the light, leaving Chuck in complete darkness.

Chuck sat down at the laptop and examined the schematics in front of him. “I swear, one day I’m gunna slap the black out of that kid.” He chuckled as he began to work again.

The bright screen lit up his dark features through the pitchy room, his hand moving tirelessly over the mouse as he pondered the data in front of him. His eyes glazed over with a blue hue as the blueprints for Felicity’s apartment building scrolled down the screen.

“If I was trying to kill Felicity…” Chuck whispered to himself, “and I didn’t want to be caught at the scene of the crime. How would I do it?”

The floorplan for the underground parking structure sat still on the screen as Chuck scanned the schematic like he was trying to find Waldo. After minutes of silent pondering, Chuck’s muscular figure stiffened in his chair, sitting bolt upright, frozen in horrific realisation.

“Fuck!” Chuck muttered. “Lance! You still here?” Chuck screamed, now marching through the empty house, frantically making his way to the garage downstairs. “Lance, it’s the basement!”

The cityscape was just beginning to compensate for the lack of natural light hitting the buildings as the headlights of Lances Harley Davidson Fat Boy illuminated the exit off the I-87 towards Third Avenue. The evening traffic was never smooth in the city but slowly filtering the bike between stopped vehicles fast tracked Lance’s trip across Harlem River and down Lexington Avenue, towards Felicity’s apartment. Lance’s bike roared into the underground parking structure of Felicity’s building. He admired the new building as he rode past the raised boom gates. With Felicity’s newfound wealth from the Stoltzman payout, she had managed to purchase an adorable two-bedroom condo just a touch further north up Park Avenue from her old apartment. The underground parking to the side of the building on East 87th Street had been an absolute blessing as the Harley and the BMW were no longer living on the street or in inconvenient paid structures.

Lance pulled into a corner space, not far from the elevator and nodded to the maintenance team, who were packing the last of their equipment into their van, and pressed the button for the elevator. The trip up to the tenth floor was one of silence. Lance pondered how he was going to get out of being this late to their special ‘first Friday night in the new apartment’ night. They had finally completed the move two days prior. Even moving about a block away, they still needed to hire a truck to get their belongings across Park Avenue. Hilarious enough, because of the one-way streets littering New York, they actually had to drive a total of five blocks to reach the new apartment, resulting in nearly a half mile drive to reach a destination that was merely one-hundred and ten yards away.

The elevator announced both the entrance to the tenth floor as well as the exit for his thought process. I guess I’ll just have to apologise. If she’s still alive in ten years, it’ll have been worth being in trouble tonight. Lance thought to himself as he sauntered towards the door of Felicity’s new apartment. Putting the key into the slot for the first solo time felt less exciting and more nerve racking as Lance imagined the upset Felicity sitting inside with an opened bottle of wine, feeling devalued at his lateness to such an important event for her. The key clicked in the lock and the door slowly swung open. A very sheepish Lance poked his head through the gap between the door and the frame to see if he could get some sneaky reconnaissance of the battleground in before any warning shots were fired.

The apartment seemed unoccupied. Is it possible that she’s late too? Lance thought to himself as he quietly stepped in. No! That girl is so punctual, not even her period is late. Lance slunk through the living area, towards the bedroom. A horrific feeling beginning to dawn on him. If she was never late, but she wasn’t here, what happened to her? Lance reached for the Glock, hidden inside his kutte, and disarmed the safety. With the silence and proficiency of a Jason Bourne movie, Lance worked his way through the kitchen and down the short hallway towards the bedrooms. Not wanting to call out for Felicity and give away his position, Lance just reminded himself to identify before shooting. If she was alive and unharmed, he didn’t want to change that. The master bedroom door was open. Lance moved through the doorway and cleared the entire room in one smooth movement. The iron sight on his pistol scouring every inch of the room before being lowered. Lance pulled out his phone and started to flick through the favourite contacts for Felicity’s number. A noise in the ensuite made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Panic gripped him, he hadn’t cleared the ensuite.

A tanned leg, that was immediately recognised as Felicity’s, entered through the doorway of the ensuite. The leg extended to just below bikini line and then, slowly and seductively, retracted itself back through the doorway. Lance slowly lowered his gun again, surprised by, firstly the lack of danger coming through the door and secondly, the lack of anger coming from Felicity. Felicity appeared, half covered by the door frame of the ensuite,...