Training Kemper [Hard Hits 7] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove) Read online

  Hard Hits 7

  Training Kemper

  When a high speed chase goes wrong, Lt. Kemper Morrow’s night on patrol goes from situation normal to all messed up. The night before his SWAT testing, Kemper is critically injured in the line of duty. As his injury takes him out of the game, Kemper can’t pull himself back together.

  Sgt. Shawn O’Leary sees a broken officer before him who he knows he can save, if Kemper is willing to accept his help. He’s not willing. That’s okay with Shawn. He loves a good challenge. Refusing to walk away, Shawn knows he can build Kemper back up.

  As Shawn gets closer to Kemper, he finds himself falling hard. Shawn is a Dom who only wants Kemper as his sub, but can he break a man in who is broken down? With Kemper’s career on the line, Shawn takes a chance and crosses the line. Will Kemper trust him and hand over complete control?

  Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), BDSM, Contemporary

  Length: 31,382 words

  TRAINING KEMPER

  Hard Hits 7

  Tatum Throne

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  MANLOVE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove

  TRAINING KEMPER

  Copyright © 2013 by Tatum Throne

  First E-book Publication: November 2013

  Cover design by Harris Channing

  All art and logo copyright © 2013 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.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Training Kemper by Tatum Throne from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Tatum Throne’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Throne’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  For my husband and boys with all my love. You are my everything.

  A very special thank you to a veteran who so graciously answered all my questions about living life after a serious war injury. You are the best!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  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

  About the Author

  TRAINING KEMPER

  Hard Hits 7

  TATUM THRONE

  Copyright © 2013

  Chapter One

  A grin tugged at the corner of Officer Kemper Morrow’s lips as he drove his patrol car through the streets of downtown Cincinnati. Everything felt perfect. Maybe it was partially due to having a date tomorrow night. Of course, it’d been a really long time since he had dated anyone. For the first time in his life, things were falling into place.

  Nighttime pressed in on the city. It was almost eleven. There was only an hour left of his shift and then tomorrow afternoon he was going to be taking the physical section of his SWAT exam. He couldn’t fucking wait. He’d longed to be one of those badass guys for a really long time. Kemp drove through downtown. It was almost time to return to headquarters for shift change.

  Leaves tumbled over the road. Summer was starting to fade into Autumn. Fall was Kemp’s favorite time of year. The holidays were a few months away. Kemp loved the hustle and bustle of all of it. Black Friday was a sporting event amongst his friends.

  Down the road, Kemp caught sight of a car running a stop sign. When it turned the corner, Kemp saw that it had a busted taillight and the license plate was missing. Kemp hit the gas, following the car as he tapped his radio, calling in the suspicious car.

  “Forty-three-nineteen to Dispatch. I’m attempting to make a traffic stop on 1600 Elm Street.”

  “Copy forty-three-nineteen.”

  After several seconds, he hit the lights, but not the sirens. The car tapped its brakes, lighting up only the left light. The car swerved to the right as though they were going to pull over, but then gunned it. The high speed chase was underway. Habit like muscle memory had Kemp calling the chase into dispatch.

  “Forty-three-nineteen to Dispatch. We’re heading east on Elm. My guy isn’t pulling over.”

  “Copy forty-three-nineteen, sending back up.”

  The car sped faster through the city, running traffic lights as they raced toward the highway. Kemper kept Dispatch informed with a play by play of what streets they were on. They hit I-275, heading toward the Big Mac Bridge. Kemp knew he had to put an end to this chase. They were about to head into northern Kentucky. Kemp sped up. He needed to stop this car before someone got really hurt. Kemp bumped the rear corner panel of the suspect’s car a little bit harder than he intended.

  Metal crashed against metal, giving Kemper a big fucking jolt to his body. The cars spun. Everything blurred together as lights raced across the darkness. His teeth knocked together, causing pain to shoot down his jaw.

  Steam billowed up from the front end of Kemp’s cruiser. He used a controlled hit to the rear quarter panel of the speeding car. The cars slammed against the Big Mac Bridge’s cement railing. Chunks of cement broke apart, flying against the metal walkway. A piece slammed into Kemp’s windshield,
shattering a spot in the middle the size of a soccer ball. The impact didn’t stop the speeding car. The man gunned the engine in reverse and took off across the bridge.

  Kemper pursued the running vehicle. They went flying across the bridge and into the heart of Northern Kentucky, racing down the highway. Kemper glanced down at the odometer. They were hitting speeds up to 100 mph, taking dangerous turns faster than either car should be going. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as the car took the next exit on two wheels. Kemper slowed down cautiously as he took the turn. They were heading into Kentucky backcountry. It would be easy for Kemper to lose sight of the car out here. Kemper knew he needed to do something drastic to get this car to stop. He would have to ram it a second time. Kemper sped up, hitting the back quarter panel of the car again.

  This time the suspect’s car went flying off into the ditch and trees. The car spun as the suspect struggled to maintain control of the car. The two cars were now facing each other. Kemp was out of his patrol car before the brakes fully came to rest. He slid across the hood of his car on his knees, getting into position with his gun pointed.

  “Get out of the car!”

  The suspect kicked open the car door and staggered out. His hands were down low. There was a glassy, dead look to the suspect’s eyes. A shiver vibrated down the back of Kemper’s neck as though someone had just walked over his grave. Twice. Sweat dripped down Kemp’s temple as he readjusted his hand, gripping the gun.

  “Driver! Show me your hands!”

  Traffic was stopping behind the accident. Other police cars had finally followed up on the chase. Everything in Kemp’s head felt fuzzy. It was then he was certain that his bell had gotten rung when the cars had collided. The guy dove back into the car, hitting the gas. Kemper attempted to dive out of the way by jumping onto the hood of his cruiser. The car slammed into his cruiser, sending Kemper airborne. Kemp went flying up further onto the hood of car, hitting the windshield. Kemp rolled off the hood of the car, landing hard onto the forest floor. Something sharp stabbed into Kemper’s leg. He screamed as he rolled out of the way of the speeding car.

  Kemp’s entire body felt numb from the inside out. His body was officially in shutdown mode from the amount of injuries he had. This was not good. Kemp didn’t bother trying to move. He knew it would hurt too much if he tried. He reached for his leg, feeling a hard object jutting out from it. It registered late on his brain that it was a stick. The stick was lodged deep within his calf muscle. He couldn’t believe the wood had cut through his tactical pants.

  Pain shot down his leg. Kemp looked up at the night sky. Stars winked through the trees. It was a view Kemp knew he wouldn’t ever see again. Desperation had him trying to get up, but he fell back down hard. Strangers rushed to his side. Sirens wailed like a hawk crying in the distance. Kemp tried to move his legs and things felt off. He looked down at his legs. His left was at a bad angle. He groaned as he tried to move again.

  Disappointment and fear raced through his blood. He wouldn’t be taking the physical exam to make SWAT like he planned tomorrow. Everything he hoped and dreamed of was suddenly being yanked out of sight. This was not what Kemper wanted.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an ambulance roll up. It was then that Kemp knew it was for him. Darkness threatened to pull him under. All of a sudden, SWAT Doc Woods was above him. His voice sounded very far away. The only sound Kemper heard was the sound of his heart beating wildly within his ears. He felt cold and clammy. It was clear that he was going into shock.

  “Stay with me, Morrow!”

  The order felt like something Kemper should obey, but he couldn’t pull himself out of the hole that was sucking him down. He wanted to put himself back together, but he knew he couldn’t do that by himself this time. They went to move him onto a stretcher and Kemper screamed, passing out.

  * * * *

  Kemper cried out, waking up. Sweat soaked his body, making him feel clammy and cold. He awakened with his heart pounding. White walls pressed in on him like a knot tightening around his neck. He started to panic. Where the fuck was he? He felt groggy, confused, and numb from something pumping through his veins. Kemp worked hard to recall the last thing he remembered. It was the high-speed chase and then almost being run over by that car. His eyes darted around. He was in the hospital.

  On the other side of the room, Kemp caught sight of Chief Anderson talking with Dr. Woods. His brother, Jake, was talking with both of them. Jake? They had called Jake? He hadn’t seen his brother in years. Not since they were rooming together and Jake had walked in on him kissing his lover. The fallout had been swift, with Jake moving out twenty-four hours after their fight. He could not reconcile the fact that he liked men.

  A few moments later, they noticed that he was awake.

  “Chief?”

  Chief Anderson crossed the room. Flecks of black were in his white hair. He came in close to the bed. Something was really wrong. He had a funny look on his face as he stared down at him.

  “You’re awake.”

  Kemper was exhausted. He tried to sit up, but was stopped when he caught a look at his left leg. Kemp felt his stomach roll. Where his leg should have been there was a white bandage and stump just below his knee. Panic flowed through his veins. A ringing started in his ears.

  “What the fuck?” Kemper asked.

  Chief Anderson and his brother Jake held him down. Kemper tried to fight them, but it was no use. He was too fucking weak. Dr. Woods got up in his face, holding his cheeks.

  “Calm the fuck down, Kemp.”

  Tears shimmered in Kemper’s eyes. Everything in front of him went blurry. “Parker?”

  “The trauma surgeon had no choice. There was no saving your leg. They tried for days. The infection was too bad.”

  Kemper felt destroyed inside as he dropped his head back against the pillows. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  Jake squeezed his shoulder, giving him the support he needed to feel so many years ago. It made him suddenly feel not so alone.

  “Give us a minute,” Parker said to Jake.

  Kemper lifted his hands to his face. He couldn’t believe he lost his leg. He watched as the chief and his brother left the room. “Please tell me they got that dumb motherfucker.”

  “Yeah. They did,” Parker said. “He’s going to be going away for a long time.”

  The ringing in his head was finally starting to ease. Kemper felt as though his life were crashing down around him. He glanced toward the windows. “How long have I been out?”

  “Four days,” Parker said. “There was a stick in your leg. There were several bacteria that caused your body to go into shock. You were dying from blood poisoning.”

  There were so many questions crashing through his brain that Kemper didn’t know where to begin. “What happened to my leg?”

  “The infection turned gangrene on the second day. The trauma surgeon didn’t have a choice. Antibiotics were not working. It was a race against time and the infection was winning. I’m sorry. They did it to save your life.”

  “When can I get out of here?” Kemp asked.

  “Three weeks is my guess. You’ll be going to a rehab center for daily physical therapy. From there, you’ll be fitted with a new leg.”

  Images of bad prosthetic limbs ran through his mind. “When can I get back to work?”

  “It’s going to take some time. You’re going to have to learn to get your balance back with the new limb.”

  All of Kemper’s dreams of becoming a SWAT member were slipping through his fingers. There was nothing he could do to grab on to them and keep them from going away. Parker’s voice started to fade away as he talked about the weeks of rehab he would be going through. As far as Kemper was concerned, he knew that life as he knew it was over. He was physically fit, but now he wasn’t whole. He was broken.

  Chapter Two

  Kemp couldn’t admit to anyone, even himself, that he was depressed. It was the kind of depression that made him feel apatheti
c and alone. He stared at the television, watching but not really listening to what was going on. He felt numb inside and out.

  After the accident, he lost most of his friends. Well, people who he thought were his friends. Even the guys from the department had stopped coming around after a while. They had lives. They were busy. He even sent Jake away. He didn’t want or need his brother hovering over him. Of course, he had stopped returning their phone calls two months ago. Kemp adjusted his prosthetic. Those damn phantom pains were still keeping him up at night. He wished they would just go away.

  Across the room, his clock chimed the time. Kemper thought about what he was going to have for dinner, but really didn’t feel like making anything. He was feeling tired and unmotivated today. If he admitted it to himself, he was fucking bored. He thought about going back to work, but just didn’t see how he could make it work out.

  The doorbell rang, jarring Kemp out of his thoughts. He couldn’t remember the last time that damn bell rang. It stopped ringing a few weeks after he returned from the rehab center. Kemp eased off the couch and reached for his cane. He wasn’t supposed to be using it anymore, but he couldn’t seem to let go of the damn thing. He was still afraid of falling, despite all the physical therapy he had gone through. Kemp went to the door and opened it. Chief Anderson and a guy built like a boxer were on the other side. They looked like they weren’t going to go away anytime soon. Chief Anderson looked him up and down. Yeah, he had gained a little weight after the accident, too. He just didn’t care anymore. Kemp tried to hide the cane along the long length of his leg. He didn’t want them to see it.