No Good Deed Read online

  

  Maple Grove 21

  No Good Deed

  [Siren Publishing: The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection: Erotic Romance, Contemporary, Alternative, Paranormal, Shape-shifters, Romantic Suspense, MM, HEA]

  Fisher Allan is desperate to escape his abusive relationship. When he reaches out to his father’s longtime friend, Grayson Copache sends someone to help. Fisher is terrified of getting caught while fleeing, but the man who Grayson sent gets him out of there. Now all Fisher has to do is pick up the pieces and move on with his life. That was easier said than done when he feels an overwhelming attraction toward his knight in shining armor.

  Blake Chapman is co-owner of the gay bar Pump. Once in a while he helps men and women get out of bad situations. When Grayson calls, asking for a favor, Blake has no problem rescuing someone in a dire situation. Only he didn’t expect to be saving his mate from an abusive jerk. But their problems aren’t over once they reach Maple Grove. Fisher’s ex is determined to get him back, while trying to end Blake’s life.

  Length: 32,000 words

  NO GOOD DEED

  Maple Grove 21

  Lynn Hagen

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  No Good Deed

  Copyright © 2020 by Lynn Hagen

  ISBN: 978-1-64637-141-9

  First Publication: May 2020

  Cover design by Emma Nicole

  All art and logo copyright © 2020 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at [email protected]

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but lovable. She also loves a hero who can see past all the rough edges to find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart.

  You can find her on any given day curled up with her laptop and a cup of hot java, letting the next set of characters tell their story.

  For all titles by Lynn Hagen, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/lynn-hagen

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  NO GOOD DEED

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  NO GOOD DEED

  Maple Grove 21

  LYNN HAGEN

  Copyright © 2020

  Chapter One

  “I need a favor.”

  Blake Chapman sat at his kitchen table, his first cup of coffee in front of him. He hadn’t even taken a sip before his phone had rung. “Every time I hear those words I get either shot, stabbed, or knocked unconscious. Being friends with you is lethal to my health.”

  He picked up his cup and took a sip, sighing at how good it tasted. Blake needed it to charge his battery after the long night he’d had. He was co-owner of the gay bar in town, and there had been picketers outside who’d gotten hands-on with guys leaving Pump.

  The cops had been called, threats had been made, and punches thrown. Blake had to break up multiple fights and got slugged for his efforts. His jaw was still sore, but not was sore as the other guy’s kidney. Blake hadn’t taken the punch without returning one of his own.

  But he hadn’t put his full strength behind it. He was a bear shifter, and he would’ve killed the human if he’d unleashed his full wrath.

  “It’s not that bad being friends with me,” Sheriff Grayson Copache joked.

  “Tell that to my scars.” Blake took another drink and felt more awake. It was only past seven, and he should still be asleep, but Blake suffered from insomnia. He’d caught maybe two or three hours of sleep after closing down the bar.

  “You don’t have scars,” Grayson said. “You’re a shifter. Your wounds heal when you shift.”

  True, but he liked giving Grayson a hard time about it. “So what’s this favor, and am I going to regret taking this phone call?”

  “I got a friend who needs to make it to Maple Grove, but he has no way of getting here.”

  Blake furrowed his brows. “Buy him a plane ticket.”

  Had Grayson really called him about being someone’s chauffeur? Blake didn’t mind helping out a friend in need, but Grayson had lost his mind. Blake was running off fumes from lack of sleep, and that wasn’t a condition he would drive in.

  “It’s a little more complicated than that.” Grayson cleared his throat. “I’d go myself, but I just got back from vacation and can’t take the time off. I have this friend, well, I told you that, but his name is Fisher Hart, and he’s in a bit of trouble.”

  That was all Blake needed, to transport a troublemaker. He’d had enough of that kind to last him a lifetime. “You using your influence in another county, getting your friend out of trouble?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Grayson said. “Fisher isn’t the one causing trouble. He’s the one who needs rescuing from a jackass who thinks it’s okay to use fists instead of words.”

  Blake’s chest tightened. He despised bullies. That was one reason he had so many bouncers at his club. There were still men in Maple Grove who detested the gay community and who thought beating up some twink passed for an exciting Saturday night.

  That was another reason the mayor had approved the funding to have the LBGTQ youth center built. To give young kids a safe place to hang out, gay or straight. It didn’t matter. There was zero tolerance at the center.

  “Is Fisher ready to leave him?” Blake wasn’t making the trip if this Fisher guy changed his mind. It happened in abusive relationships. One minute the abused was ready to pack up and leave, and the next they were being sweet-talked by the abuser into staying.

  Blake might not have been a cop or a counselor, but he’d seen it many times. The chivalry in him had wanted to beat the shit out of the abuser, to show him how it felt to be afraid and helpless. But he’d always restrained, keeping his anger in check.

  Grayson had called him because Blake had helped a few people—male and female—get out of bad situations. Had transported them to a new life. Blake even had some connections to get that person a new identity.

  “Text me his address,” Blake said. “Let him know I’ll be there tonight, and make sure he’s ready.”

  Blake hadn’t rescued anyone in a few years. Not since the last time when he’d been shot by the abuser when he’d come home early and found Blake in his home.

  But Blake hadn’t been there engaging in a secret affair. He’d been there to get Timothy Kelley out of there. After the cops had been called and Marshall had been arrested, Blake had taken Timothy two states away, where he stayed with an ex-roommate from college.

  To this day Timothy sent him a text on the anniversary of the day Blake had rescued him, letting Blake know he was doing fine and enjoying his new life.

  And that had made it well worth the bullet Blake had take
n.

  “He’s about five hours from here,” Grayson said. “He’s not actually my friend. His father is, but Gleeson is living all the way in Florida with his new wife. He won’t be of any help.”

  “I gotcha,” Blake said.

  “Word of caution. His boyfriend has one of those doorbell cameras, so it will alert him to any motion. From what Fisher tells me, it’s mounted on the front door. Your best bet is the rear entrance. He said John has some function he has to attend tonight, and Fisher faked having stomach pains, so he’ll be home.”

  Blake made a mental note of all that. “Right.”

  “I owe you for this, Blake. It guts me that Fisher is going through this. I’ve known him a long time, and he’s too sweet to deal with such a monster.”

  “I’ll get him out.” The question was, would Fisher stay out? Some abused went back to the person they were running from. Blake didn’t understand it and hoped that wasn’t the case for Grayson’s friend.

  “Let me know when you’ve made it back.” Grayson hung up.

  Blake had the rest of the day before he drove to get Fisher. Maybe before then he could get some much-needed sleep.

  * * * *

  “Are you sure you’re not feeling well?”

  Fisher wanted to growl. That was the fifth time John had asked him that question in the past hour. Why couldn’t he hurry up and leave already? Fisher’s nerves were wrung tight, and he wasn’t lying when he’d said his stomach was upset.

  It was from nerves. The fear of getting caught trying to leave. Fisher had never been more ready in his life to get out of this house and out from under John’s thumb. For the past year Fisher’s life had been a living hell, and he was so over this that he wanted to flip John off.

  But he knew better. John would take his belt off and… “I’m sure,” he said in a meek voice. “My tummy has been rumbling all day.”

  Fisher mentally rolled his eyes. John got off on Fisher talking as if he were an imbecile. He liked his men meek and submissive, and pleasure entered his hateful blue eyes as he nodded.

  “Just crawl into bed and get some rest. I’ll call to check up on you while I’m at the party.” He placed his hands on his hips. Fisher’s heart thundered. John always did that before he “taught” Fisher a lesson.

  “I would cancel, but this party is too important. My boss will be there, and I’m trying to impress him so I can move up in the company. That will mean an even better life for us.”

  Fisher would rather live in an alley under a tent. “I appreciate everything you do for me…for us.”

  He had to force down the bile as he crawled into bed. The only thing Fisher appreciated was Grayson sending help. He still couldn’t believe his dad’s friend had come through for him. Fisher had been terrified to make the call, afraid Grayson would say he couldn’t get involved.

  But Fisher should’ve known better. His dad always spoke so highly of Grayson, and Fisher remembered Grayson from when he was a kid. The guy had been huge, in the military, and had always treated Fisher with kindness.

  He would owe Grayson a debt he would never be able to repay. Fisher just wanted to get his things packed and be out the door. He hadn’t been able to do anything with John home all day. That was why he was still stuck in this relationship. John worked from home, making it damn near impossible for Fisher to flee.

  The invitation had been a godsend. Fisher knew he would need to act fast, and Grayson had answered his prayers. But it was also terrifying. Fisher was fleeing to the unknown. He had no job, no money, and what if John found him?

  His boyfriend—Fisher was gonna throw up just thinking that word—wasn’t one who easily let things go. He would take this as a strike against him, and John would try his hardest to track Fisher down.

  “I won’t be gone long.” John tapped his lips, and Fisher had to get out of bed to give him a kiss. The asshole. He had to stretch up in order to reach John, because John never bent over. Fisher would really love to meet the guy’s parents. He’d slug them for raising such a neurotic, narcissistic, egotistical jackass.

  Fisher would not want to be a fly on the wall when John returned and found him gone. The rage he would fly into wouldn’t be pretty. If John ever found him, Fisher would be lucky if he didn’t die.

  And that thought made his stomach cramp even further. He was terrified, but he also knew he couldn’t stay. If he had to kiss John’s ass one more time, he just might get a knife from the kitchen, and that was something Fisher wanted to avoid.

  He was normally a really sweet guy, but John had changed Fisher into something he didn’t like. Now he jumped at every noise, hardly slept for fear of what he might do the following day to incur John’s wrath, and he’d even noticed that some of his hair was falling out.

  He could do this, though. Fisher could summon his bravery and pack his shit so he could leave.

  After he gave John a kiss, impressed with himself that he hadn’t thrown up, Fisher crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over him.

  He waited until he heard the car start before he jumped out of bed and peeked out the window. Just in case John had forgotten something and came back, Fisher waited ten minutes and then raced to the spare bedroom to get out a suitcase. It belonged to John, but Fisher didn’t give a shit.

  The guy could bill him for it.

  Fisher ran around the room, his heart beating wildly as he snatched his clothes from the closet and dressers. He’d made sure he’d done laundry the night before so he couldn’t leave anything behind.

  He ran into the bathroom and gathered his things, dumping it all on top of his clothes in the suitcase. Fisher nearly tripped running down the stairs. He wasn’t going to leave his family photo album behind. The pictures were irreplaceable.

  Fisher also grabbed his grandfather’s pocket watch from a box high on a shelf. John didn’t think Fisher had known where he’d stuffed it. He wasn’t sure why John had taken it from him in the first place, but Fisher wasn’t leaving without it.

  He had to grab a kitchen chair in order to reach it. John would have a heart attack if he knew Fisher was standing on the seat. Screw him. The anal bastard.

  Fisher retrieved the watch and ran back upstairs, tossing the watch and album on top of his things. He shut the suitcase and had to sit on it in order to zip it closed.

  His head snapped around when he heard something tapping. Fisher ran to the window to make sure John’s white BMW wasn’t in the driveway.

  It wasn’t, but the tapping continued. With furrowed brows, Fisher went to the spare bedroom that faced the back of the house and looked out the window.

  There was a stranger in his backyard throwing pebbles at the window. Fisher opened it. “Are you Grayson’s friend?”

  The guy nodded. Holy fuck. He was gorgeous. Fisher shouldn’t have been thinking that at a time like this, but he couldn’t help it. The guy was all dark looks and muscles. He even had a low-trimmed beard that made him even sexier.

  “Hang on and I’ll throw my suitcase down to you.” Normally Fisher wouldn’t have done that for fear it would bust open. But the guy looked more than capable of catching something so heavy.

  He rushed into the room and grabbed the suitcase off the bed. Damn, it was heavy. Fisher grunted as he carried it to the other room. He had to use both hands to heave it up and shove it out the window.

  A car door slammed. Fisher’s heart froze. He looked down at the guy who was looking toward the side of the house. “Don’t leave me,” Fisher said in a loud whisper before he shut the window.

  Now what? If that was John, Fisher was about to die. He ran to his room, and sure enough, the white BMW was in the driveway. Fisher did his best to close all the drawers and slid the closet door shut. Thankfully he’d returned the kitchen chair to its rightful place.

  Why had John returned? Would he open a drawer and discover Fisher’s things missing? Would he go into the bathroom and find Fisher’s personal care things gone?

  He hopped back in
to bed and pulled the covers over his shoulder just as John entered the room. He frowned as he walked over to the bed. “You’re sweating. You really don’t feel good, do you?”

  Fisher blinked up at him. “I’ll be okay. I don’t want you to stay home and miss this opportunity.”

  “I didn’t come back to check on you.” John walked over to the dresser, and Fisher’s heart nearly gave out.

  Please don’t open the drawers. Please don’t open them.

  “I forgot my invitation.” John grabbed the envelope from the top of the dresser. Fisher still couldn’t relax. John could open a drawer and his life would be over.

  Fisher glanced at the black leather belt around John’s waist, and his body began to ache. Only, John would use something much worse if he discovered what Fisher was up to.

  If his ride hadn’t left—and Fisher didn’t think the guy had—he would jump out of a window if he had to escape. He wasn’t spending another night under this roof. There wasn’t enough money in the world to make him stay.

  “Now I’m in a hurry,” John said. He placed his hand on the drawer knob, and Fisher was seconds away from passing out. He glanced at the window and wondered if he could make it in time before John got to the bed.

  John turned. “I’m not sure what time I’ll be back. Just rest, and if you don’t feel any better by the morning, we’ll schedule you a doctor’s appointment.”

  Fisher gave him a weak smile. “Thank you for being so considerate.”

  Now get the fuck out!

  John came to the bed and kissed the top of Fisher’s head. “Sleep well.”

  “Thank you.” He curled deeper under the covers. That seemed to satisfy John. He walked out of the room, and Fisher couldn’t stop shaking. If John walked back in, he would think Fisher was having some kind of seizure.