Phantom – Silver Saints MC Read Online Fiona Davenport

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Insta-Love, MC, Virgin Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 88(@300wpm)

Kian “Phantom” Weber spent fifteen years working in the shadows to protect his country. The retired spook found his family with the Silver Saints MC…and they eventually led him to the woman who was meant to be his.

When Phantom spotted the bruises on Tessa McGuire’s arm, he knew he would burn down the world to ensure her safety. With him at her side, anyone who wanted to hurt Tessa would have a battle on their hands. Because he knew in an instant that he’d have her back. Always.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



I hadn’t been expecting a call from my bank, so I assumed the representative would try to sell me something. I was only paying half attention until she said, “I’m sorry, but we cannot process your withdrawal request because none of the boxes were checked for the reason for the distribution. You’ll need to send in a new form with all the sections completed.”

My brows drew together as I tilted my head to the side. “I’m sorry, what?”

After repeating the information, the person from the bank added, “Or you can submit the request online if you need the funds more quickly. Also, please note that pulling all the funds from the account will result in its closure. And you should be aware that if this is a non-qualified distribution, the amount will be subject to income tax and a 10 percent penalty.”

“I think you misunderstood my question. I’m not sure what you’re talking about because I didn’t send in a withdrawal request.”

“But I have it right here.” I heard some shuffling of papers in the background. “And the signature appears to match what we have on file for you.”

My mom had squirreled a lot of money away into that account to ensure I could attend college without having to worry about paying for it. Earning a degree wasn’t that important to me, except that it was the best way to get away from the town where I grew up. My childhood had been fairly normal…until my mom passed away in a car accident last year. Then my dad turned into a completely different person.

The father who’d taught me how to ride a bicycle and took me to the park every weekend was long gone. In his place was someone my mom would’ve hated. Especially with how he neglected me.

The only upside to her being gone was that she wasn’t here to see how far he’d fallen. Especially if he’d done what I was starting to suspect.

“Ahh, yeah. Thanks for calling to let me know there was an issue. I’ll take care of it on my end.”

I ended the call before she could ask how I’d forgotten I sent in paperwork to withdraw almost sixty-thousand dollars. Unfortunately, that wasn’t quick enough for my dad to come into the living room and catch the tail end of my conversation.

“Who was that? What issue were they calling about?”

Setting my cell on the cushion beside me, I took a deep breath before answering. “Someone from the bank letting me know that the form to empty my college savings account was missing a checkmark in a section, so they couldn’t process it.”

“Shit,” he muttered, stomping closer.

“The funny thing is that I never sent in the request.” I pressed my lips together as I glared up at him. “But you know that already, don’t you?”

“I need that money,” he growled, reaching out to grab my arm. Gripping hard, he yanked me off the couch.

“Oww,” I cried, feeling as though my shoulder was being wrenched out of the socket.

He hissed, “I need that money, and you’re gonna get it for me.”

I blinked up at him, tears welling in my eyes. “You really did it? You forged my signature so you could take the rest of the money Mom set aside for my college education when I have tuition due in less than a month?”

“Don’t you dare bring your mother into this.” He shook me to emphasize his point.

“We’re gonna go down to the bank so you can get me that money, and I don’t want any more backtalk from you.”

Before I even had the chance to think about saying something else, he shoved me.

The sting of betrayal was almost worse than the actual physical pain. As awful as my dad had been since my mom’s death, he’d never hurt me. But my arm would have fingertip-shaped bruises tomorrow, and there was a sharp sting in my ribs from how I landed wrong against the arm of the couch, which had almost no padding left.

Tears spilled down my cheeks, but he didn’t react to them. Gulping down the lump in my throat, I whispered, “It’s too late to go in now. They’ll be closed by the time we get there.”

“Fine,” he huffed. “We’ll go in the morning. Now get off your ass and make me some dinner.”