ROAD TO ROYALTY (LOST KINGS MC SERIES BOXED SET) - Autumn Jones Lake

ROAD TO ROYALTY (LOST KINGS MC SERIES BOXED SET) BOOKS 1 -3 OF THE LOST KINGS MC SERIES, PLUS BONUS MATERIAL.

AUTUMN JONES LAKE

CONTENTS Title Page Copyright About Road to Royalty Glossary Slow Burn (Lost Kings MC, Book 1) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Notes From The Author Character Interview: Hope And Rock Corrupting Cinderella 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 Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Notes From The Author Corrupting Cinderella Playlist

Character Interview #2: Hope And Rock STRENGTH FROM LOYALTY (Lost Kings MC #3) 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 Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Notes From The Author Strength From Loyalty Playlist Bonus Scene #1 Bonus Scene #2 Tattered on My Sleeve Excerpt Thank You! Keep in Touch! Also By Autumn Other Mc Authors You Might Enjoy Excerpt from Bink Cummings Excerpt from Phoenyx Slaughter Last Page

INCLUDES Slow Burn (Lost Kings MC #1) Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC #2) Strength From Loyalty (Lost Kings MC #3) Plus exclusive bonus content.

COPYRIGHT

Road to Royalty by Autumn Jones Lake © Copyright 2015, 2016 All Rights Reserved Digital ISBN # 978-0-9907945-9-2 Digital Edition License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or shared. If you did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Respecting the hard work of this author makes new books possible. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Cover Design: Letitia Hasser, RBA Designs Photography: Lindee Robinson Photography Cover Models: Travis Bendall & Kelly Kirstein Formatting by: Max Effect Publisher’s Note: The only retailers authorized to sell the Road to Royalty Lost Kings MC Box Set,Copyright 2014, 2015, 2016 © Autumn Jones Lake are: iBooks, Amazon, Nook, and Kobo . If you downloaded it from anywhere else, it is theft. Please respect the author’s hard work and purchase a copy at the above retailers. Thank you. This is an original work of fiction by Autumn Jones Lake. [email protected] Published by Ahead of the Pack, LLC.

About The Three Novels in Road to Royalty: SLOW BURN (Lost Kings MC, Book #1) Original publication date: October 14, 2014 Forced to represent an outlaw biker, a married attorney must come to terms with her feelings for her client while avoiding the danger he brings into her sedate life. CORRUPTING CINDERELLA (Lost Kings MC, Book #2) Original publication date: December 2, 2014 Love is the ultimate outlaw. Although attorney Hope Kendall cares deeply for President of the Lost Kings MC, Rochlan "Rock" North, the truth is they come from completely different worlds. Add to that the fact that they are also both headstrong people, and they have a very rough road ahead of them. Real love isn't a fairy tale. For Rock that means introducing Hope to what it really means to be part of his brutal and shady world, where the Lost Kings Motorcycle Club is his main focus. For Hope it means accepting the things she can't change, and understanding that Rock is a man who will do anything to keep her safe. Love doesn't follow any rules. As Rock continues to draw Hope deeper into his world, painful misunderstandings, past relationships, and opposition from the members of his club will threaten to drive them apart. How do a lawyer and a badass biker with a heart of gold keep their love alive while their opposing worlds collide? STRENGTH FROM LOYALTY (Lost Kings MC, Book #3) Original publication date: March 17, 2015 As a dark cloud descends over Hope and Rock’s already precarious future, will a long-hidden secret push them both past the point of no return?

GLOSSARY

This is the first time I’ve done a glossary. If you’re new to the Lost Kings MC (welcome!) it might be helpful to have some of the things specific to them mentioned ahead of time. And if you’re new to Motorcycle Club Romances, it also might be helpful. If you’re familiar with my series-welcome back! The Lost Kings MC Organizational Structure President: Rochlan “Rock” North. Leader of the Upstate NY charter of the Lost Kings MC. The word of the President is law within the club. He takes advice from senior club members. He is the public “face” of the MC. No one challenges the decisions of the President. Sergeant-at-Arms: Wyatt "Wrath" Ramsey. Responsible for the security of the club. Keeps order at club events. Responsible for the safety and protection of the president, the club, its members and its women. Disciplines club members who violate the rules. Keeps track of club by-laws. Vice President: Zero or “Z”. In most clubs, I think the VP would be considered the second-in-command. In mine, I see the VP and SAA on equal footing within the club. Carries out the orders of the President. Communicates with other chapters of the club. Assumes the responsibilities of the President in his absence. Keeps records of club patches and colors issued. Treasurer: Marcel "Teller" Whelan. Keeps records of income and expenses. Road Captain: Blake "Murphy" O'Callaghan. Responsible for researching, planning and organizing club runs. Responsible for obtaining and maintaining club vehicles. Lost Kings MC Terminology Crystal Ball – the strip club owned by the Lost Kings MC and one of their legitimate businesses. They often refer to it as just “CB”. “Conference Center” – the clubhouse of the Lost Kings MC. It was previously

used as a conference center and is sometimes jokingly referred to this way. Empire – The fictional city in Upstate NY, run by the Lost Kings. Green Street Crew – Street gang the Lost Kings does business with. Often referred to as “GSC.” LOKI – short for Lost Kings. Vipers MC – Rival and frequent enemy MC. Runs Ironworks which borders the Lost Kings Territory. Wolf Knights MC – Rival and sometimes ally of the Lost Kings. Other MC Terminology Most terminology was obtained through research. However, I have also used some artistic license in applying these terms to my romanticized, fictional version of an Outlaw Motorcycle Club. Ape Hangers – High motorcycle handlebars, often with handgrips at or above the shoulders. Cage – A car, truck, van, basically anything other than a motorcycle. Church – Club meetings all full patch members must attend. Led by the President of the club, but all officers will update the members on the areas they oversee. Citizen – Anyone not a hardcore biker or belonging to an outlaw club. “Citizen Wife” would refer to a spouse kept entirely separate from the club. Cut – Leather vest worn by outlaw bikers. Adorned with patches and artwork displaying the club’s unique colors. The Lost Kings’ colors are blue and gray. Their logo is a skull with a crown. Colors – The “uniform” of an outlaw motorcycle gang. A leather vest, with the three-piece club patch on the back, and various other patches relating to their role in the club. Colors belong to the club, and are held sacred by all members. Fly Colors – To ride on a motorcycle wearing colors. Mother Chapter – First chapter of the club. Muffler Bunny – Club girl, who hangs around to provide sexual favors to members. Nomad – A club member who does not belong to any specific charter, yet has privileges in all charters. Nomads go anywhere to take care of business usually at the request of the club president. Old Lady – Wife or steady girlfriend of a club member. Patched In – When a new member is approved for full membership. Patch Holder – A member who has been vetted through performing duties for the club as a prospect and has earned his three-piece patch. Prospect – A prospective member of the club. The club needs to unanimously vote him in to become a full member. Property Patch – When a member takes a woman as his Old Lady (wife status), he gives her a vest with a property patch. "Property of Lost Kings MC and the

member’s road name. Pull a Train – For a girl to have sex with each man in the club, any way he wants it, one after another. Road Name – Nick name. Usually given by the other members. Run – A club sanctioned outing sometimes with other chapters and/or clubs. Can also refer to a club business run. Sweetbutt – A girl who hangs out with the club and is always available for sex. Since my version is a “romantic” take on an MC, they are usually referred to as “club girls” but this term is used once or twice throughout.

Slow Burn (Lost Kings MC, Book 1): Copyright © 2014 by Autumn Jones Lake. Cover Designed by: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations Photography: Kelsey Keeton of K Keeton Designs Models: Cameo Hopper and Walter Veale Edited by: Marti Lynch All rights reserved. eBook ISBN: 978-0-9907945-0-9 Print Book ISBN: 978-0-9907945-1-6 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Lake, Autumn Jones Slow Burn (Lost Kings MC, Book 1) / Autumn Jones Lake

1

I t wasn’t love at first sight when I met her. Lust? Definitely. I don’t think I

believed in love at the time, but one look at her beautiful face, and all the bad stuff around me melted away. Not an easy feat for a guy in handcuffs. Someone as innocent as her should never have gotten involved with a man like me. By innocent, I don't mean she was some breathy, eighteen-year-old virgin ingénue. No—when we met, she was a thirty-one-year-old married lady. When I use the word innocent, it is in terms of never having killed someone. Never seeing someone die in front of her. Never breaking the law. True violence had never touched her life. Violence and I had been close personal friends for a large part of my life. Along with crime. And death. I used violence as a tool to keep order in my often chaotic world, just as she used the law to keep things orderly in her black-and-white one. She was a lawyer. I was a criminal. She was married to a decent, hard-working, honest guy. I fucked any willing girl who hung out in my club, and made my living in less than honest ways. She was kind. I didn't know any nice women. Hadn’t known one since my mother died shortly after my eighth birthday. I don’t have many memories of her, but the ones I do have are warm and pleasant. None of the tramps my father brought home after her death had an ounce of compassion for a motherless brat. The strippers that danced in my club seemed younger every day. A lot of them were bitchy drama queens, and the older I got, the less patience I had for emotional scenes. The girls who attended to the members of my motorcycle club were down to fuck, but not much else. That’s how I liked them. We met in a courtroom. I sat in the area designated for prisoners. Shackles laced my hands and feet together. I shuffled into the room wearing a spiffy orange jumpsuit, the county correctional logo stenciled across my back in big white letters —just in case anyone thought I suffered from bad fashion sense. She sat in the front row. I didn't hang my head when I entered. I stood proud and tall looking over the entire room. Some of my brothers stood along the back wall, waiting to see if I'd get bail. I couldn’t find my attorney in the sea of people. His big, shiny, bald dome should

have been easy to spot. My gaze wandered back to the girl in the front row. Long, straight, reddish-brown hair flowed down past her shoulders. Straight bangs across her forehead framed brilliant green eyes. Even from where I sat, I spotted freckles splattered across her nose. The deep green suit she wore emphasized the creaminess of her skin. The banister separating the criminals from the common folk blocked my view of anything below her shoulders, but that angelic face hooked me right away. The sheriff leaned over and whispered to me, "Your attorney called to say he's running late." I nodded and mumbled a "thanks" without taking my eyes off the girl. Was her old man locked up? Was she a witness to a crime? Would my asshole lawyer get here so I could get free and talk to the girl? "Any other message?" I asked Deputy Brown. He was a decent guy as far as pigs went. He'd treated me with respect, hadn't tried to bash my head into anything, and even brought me a donut before leading me upstairs to court. He didn’t get a chance to answer, because the bailiff made a big show of telling me to shut up. Arrogant prick wasn’t good enough to even be a cop, but he sure acted like one. I'd dealt with him before. My eyes returned to the girl. She sat patient and attentive, waiting her turn. Once or twice, she looked at the clock. Only a slight twitch of her lips indicated her annoyance. After what seemed like an eternity, the bailiff called the next case, and the girl stood up. She hauled a battered briefcase over her shoulder and stepped through the swinging gate up to the table across from where I sat. Holy shit. If I'd been anywhere else in the world, I would have whistled long and low to express my appreciation for the soft curves of her body. The skirt she wore fell to her knees, but it clung to all the right spots and showcased a fantastic set of calves. Her modest heels clicked over the wooden floor, calling my attention to her slender ankles. I was so busy drooling over her I missed it when she stated her name. The dickhead bailiff brought over a chair and actually smiled at her. She thanked him politely. The judge made some chit-chat with her, and she let out a girlish giggle. People seemed to know her. Like her. "Attorney Kendall?" "Yes, your honor." She stood up. Ah, she was a lawyer. That explained the chitchat. She argued some civil matter I didn't understand or care about. I listened to her make her case, then watched her sit down. Her opponent didn’t have a lawyer. He bumbled around and generally made a fool of himself. She listened with a passive expression, then argued her position again. The judge ruled in her favor. I wanted her. In more ways than one after her performance. The courtroom was almost empty. My guys still occupied the back row, but that was it. If my lawyer didn't show up soon, I'd be screwed. I nudged Deputy Brown with my elbow. "Can she represent me?" "I don't think she's a criminal attorney."

"Just for the arraignment. To get me out." "I'll ask." The deputy motioned to the bailiff to watch me and went to talk to the clerk. She nodded, and when the judge had a moment, she whispered in his ear. Fuck. The girl was putting her stuff away and getting ready to leave. I really wanted her. I mean, I wanted to fuck her, of course. But I also wanted her to represent me. People seemed to like and respect her. I'd been in and out of the criminal justice system long enough to know getting out of trouble was sometimes less about what you knew and more about who you knew. If I'd gotten picked up in a different county, I could have used my connections to make this go away. Here, I was kind of stuck. I needed her. "Attorney Kendall, could you stay and do an arraignment, please?" the judge asked off the record. Her jaw dropped, and the color drained from her face. "Uh, I'm not a criminal attorney, your honor," she stammered. "It's pretty simple. Mr. North's attorney got delayed. Don't make me appoint you," he teased. "Well, um, just for the limited purpose of this arraignment?" she asked with a hopeful lilt to her voice. "That's fine." The judge waved me over next to her. Her big eyes widened in shock as I lumbered over. I was mildly insulted. Had she really not noticed me the entire time I'd been sitting there? "I can pay you," I whispered down to her. She looked startled. "It's okay. What are we dealing with?" I liked the way she said "we." "Weed." She gave me a blank stare. "Marijuana. Got caught with a couple blunts." Acting on a bad tip from one of the club’s many enemies, the cops had been hoping to pin a whole hell of a lot more on me. This was why, instead of ignoring the weed like most cops did these days, I was standing here in shackles and the orange jumpsuit. "Oh geez." She rolled her eyes. At me or the charge, I wasn't sure. "Do you have a record?" "About a mile long." That stopped her. She stared up at me, searching my face for the truth. Apparently deciding no one would joke about that, she nodded her head. "Can you post bail? Do you work? Have a family?" "Yes, yes, and yes." She didn't ask what kind of work. Or what kind of family for that matter. "Your honor, I've had a chance to confer with my client." "Very well. Let’s call it." His clerk stood and read out, "The People of the State of New York versus

Rochlan North." Look at that—the old gal even pronounced my first name right. My girl looked up at me again. My manners were shit. I’d never bothered to introduce myself, I guess. The judge slammed his gavel down. First time I’d heard him do it all morning. The sharp thwack broke the staring contest my pretty lawyer and I were engaged in. "Do you wish to hear the reading of the charges, counselor?" She hesitated for a minute, and the judge covered the microphone with his hand. "Usually the attorney waives the reading, Miss Kendall." "I know, your honor. Thank you. Yes, I'll waive the reading. May I have a copy of the charges for my file, though?" "Yes, of course. Do you wish to be heard on bail?" "Yes, your honor. My client assures me he can pay a reasonable sum. He's a hard-working family man, so it would be in society's best interest to allow him to continue to work and provide for his family while he waits to address these false charges." I'm proud to say I kept a straight face during all of that. She impressed me with her quick thinking, though. Criminal attorney or not, she was clever. I had a fondness for clever. Clever kept you alive. Cute and smart. I should get arrested more often. "Very well. Bail is set in the amount of five hundred dollars cash. If your client is able to post it now, he can be processed downstairs instead of going back to county." She looked up at me and arched an eyebrow. I nodded and motioned my crew forward. "That's acceptable. Thank you, your honor." "Off the record," the judge said to the court reporter. He looked back up at my attorney. "See, that wasn't so hard, Miss Kendall." The judge's face lit up in a wolfish smile I didn't take kindly to. Already in my head, I'd laid claim to this woman whose first name I didn't even know. The sheriff came over and gripped my elbow. "Can't you remove the restraints, now?" she asked the sheriff with wide, pleading eyes. To say her request stunned me would be an understatement. No one had ever given a crap about my discomfort. The sheriff did not look surprised. He answered her gently. "No counselor, not till he's posted the bail money. You can meet us downstairs." He nodded toward the guys standing behind the banister. "His posse can show you the way." She hesitated, and I read the expression on her face loud and clear. She didn't want to follow my crew anywhere. In fact, she looked like she wanted to run away. "Go ahead, I'll be fine." I appreciated that she'd given it a try. Sheriffs wouldn’t break protocol no matter how owl-eyed innocent she acted. It sure turned me on, though. Maybe that was the moment I fell in love with her.

I couldn't get my hands to stop shaking. It was just nerves from handling an onthe-spot arraignment for the first time. I could almost fool myself into believing it, but my hands betrayed me. The reaction I had to this guy was ridiculous—not to mention inappropriate. A career criminal obviously. Smooth talker. Sexy in the most obscene and dangerous way. The hideous orange jumpsuit did little to conceal the powerful body inside. Still, when my eyes traveled farther up, my breath caught in my throat. I’m not sure I had ever met such an exquisite example of masculinity before. Preoccupied with staring, I probably made a huge fool of myself. But I needed to take all of him in. Short, sandy blond hair, sharp cheekbones, a firm angular jaw, and perfectly straight nose. For some reason, I expected a man like him to have a crooked nose that had been broken once or twice in his life. He radiated power and barely controlled violence. I was in way over my head here, and not just career-wise. Our gazes collided, and I sucked in a deep breath. Deep, slate eyes bored into me. I had never seen anyone with gray eyes before, and I kept staring to see if the color would shift from a different angle. Tearing myself away from studying his unusual irises took some skill. I wrapped my fingers around the handle of my briefcase and took a step back. The last thing I wanted to do was follow his scary-looking friends anywhere. Wasn't my job finished now anyway? Since I'd never done this before, I had no idea. I guessed if I wanted to get paid, I needed to follow. Instead, Judge Dane signaled me to come with him as he left the bench. "I’ll find my way down there in a minute," I told the guys who stood there waiting for me. A nervous smiled tugged at my lips. "Ms. Kendall," the judge called. I turned and scurried toward the ornate oak door that led to his private chambers. I’d been back here once or twice before for settlement conferences, but never by myself. I left the door open. "Have a seat." He swept his hand toward the two chairs stationed in front of his wide desk. "Uh, I need to go follow Mr…." Crap! What was the guy’s name? "North. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You did an excellent job. How would you feel if I appointed some minor criminal matters to you?" Like throwing up on a regular basis.

"That might be okay," I said. "I can assign someone for you to shadow for a couple cases, until you get the hang of it." I interpreted that as I’d get to do all the work, while my "mentor" collected the fee. As if I needed any more complications in my life.

Handcuff-free and back in my street clothes, I looked around for my new attorney. She hadn't followed the guys downstairs, and I wondered where she could possibly be. I didn't even have her card. "Prez, why you want to keep this snatch around? Glassman will take care of this," Murphy asked, not realizing how close he was to an ass-kicking. I flexed my hands. "That fucker couldn't be bothered to show up. With the amount of money we pay him, that's bullshit. She did a fine job." "You want to tap that? She's a fine piece. I get it." I did indeed want to tap that, but something about Wrath—probably my oldest and closest friend—speaking about her that way pissed me the hell off. "Shut the fuck up." His eyes widened, but his mouth snapped shut. Zero and Wrath exchanged glances, and I glared at both of them in response. A gentle clicking against the concrete floors sounded a few seconds before she poked her head around the corner. "Sorry, took me a minute. Everything okay?" I finished signing the last paper, collected my wallet, and nodded. "I'm good." Her gaze roamed over my brothers, a mildly freaked out expression forming. "Come 'ere, doll." I motioned her over to the exit. I wanted to get the fuck out of this building and out of downtown Ironworks. I never shoulda been over the bridge anyway. If I'd stuck to my own damn territory, this bullshit wouldn't have gone down. But then I wouldn't have met the pretty counselor. I gave the guys my "get the fuck lost" face, and they beat feet ahead of us. "Can I have your card?" "Oh, of course." She stopped and fumbled with her briefcase for a few seconds. Flustered, she huffed a bit of air up, ruffling her bangs. Cutest damn thing I'd ever seen. Tossing her head side to side, she marched over to a bench and set the briefcase down. Bending over to flip open the bag, I bet she didn't realize I got an eyeful—a nice, straight shot down her cleavage. I'd known a lot of women who did this exact thing looking to get a response like mine. But this chick, she had no idea.

Holy hell, this girl was dangerous. I shifted my weight from side to side while I contemplated circling around to check out the back view when she straightened up and thrust a bright green and off-white colored card at me. Unique and pretty, just like her. "Sorry." She flashed a nervous grin. "No problem." I took the card. Hope Kendall, Esq. God. Damn. I flipped my wallet out of my cut and fished out five hundred-dollar bills, curled them over, and handed them to her. She protested immediately. "Oh my gosh, Mr. North, I can't take that much. One hundred would be fine." She thrust the cash back at me. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever heard anyone over the age of five say "gosh" before. It was really fucking cute coming from Hope’s mouth. I also didn't think I had ever known a person to turn down money when offered to them. "No. You did an excellent job, considering it was sprung on you at the last minute. You earned it." She blushed and looked down at her shoes. "Thank you." Damn, she was sweet. She had this bright, wholesome thing going on. Why it got me so fucking hard, I had no idea. I usually didn’t do clean. I liked my hookups nasty and dirty. "No problem," I said. "Now, I’m starving. Let's go grab some lunch." She hesitated, which was why I hadn't asked her to lunch. "I should really…" "You have to be in court somewhere else?" "No." "So let's go eat." "Don't you want to join your friends?" She gestured to the corner where Zero, Wrath, and Murphy had stopped for a smoke. I wasn't used to girls trying to get away from me. Usually they jumped at the chance to, well, jump me. This one was twitching to ditch me. It made me want to pursue her even harder. "Nah, they can come back and grab me later." "I'm married," she squeaked out. Well, fuck me.

2

D esperate to get away from this man, I blurted out the only thing that I thought

would draw in his horns. Not that I was conceited, but the vibe I picked up from him sent my nerves fluttering. Somewhere between the courtroom and the sidewalk, we'd shifted from business tone to something less…business-y. It made me uncomfortable. I realized I was staring. Upstairs, the man had been vibrant and intense, even in his orange jumpsuit. Now, without the distraction of the courtroom, the man in front of me really commanded all of my attention. Tall enough that I had to look up if I wanted another glimpse of those spectacular eyes, and I'm not a short woman myself. The straight, stiff posture indicated I'd been right earlier—a hard, muscular body lurked under his innocuous T-shirt, leather vest, and jeans. Outside, the sun picked up highlights in his thick, blond hair. Short enough to run my nails through, but not grab onto. Stubble covered a strong, angular jaw. I wondered if he always wore the beard scruff or if it was just from spending the night in jail. Decided it didn’t matter either way. Jail. Right. I was a lawyer. He was my client. Assessing him this way was completely inappropriate. So I blurted out my marital status. I'd never done that before. Usually I just tried to work in my husband this or my husband that to chase away unwanted attention. The problem with that strategy was that secretly, deep down in a place I had a hard time acknowledging, I really liked the attention from Rochlan North. My words also served the purpose of reminding me that I was not available. Rochlan. I rolled the name through my head. Imagined whispering it in the dark as he… No. No!

While we stood there, her cheeks turned an interesting shade of crimson. That small bit of flushed skin taunted me until I wanted to strip her out of her sweet little suit and see where else her skin turned pink when she was embarrassed. The awkward silence continued while I searched for something to say. "Where's your ring?" She flipped me off. Before I got pissed, I noticed the plain gold band encircling her middle finger and tiny diamond ring stacked on top. My eyebrows shot up inquisitively. She shrugged. "I lost a little weight and haven't had time to get them resized." I used that as an invitation to take my time looking her body up and down. "Don't lose any more." Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me?" "It would be a crime if you lost any more." I spoke each word with a deliberate tone that would be hard to ignore. Her eyebrows squeezed together and her lips pursed in what I figured was an irritated pout, but I found it cute. And fucking hot. Jesus Christ, this chick was giving me a hard-on standing on the sidewalk in front of the least arousing place in the world—the police station. "Come on, Mrs. Kendall. Let's go have lunch. I can use the business expense." "It's Ms. Kendall." Ms. Kendall was exasperating.

Against my better judgment, I followed Rochlan, or Rock as he insisted I call him, across the street to Vintage Diner. I hadn't been to Vintage in years. Too many lawyers, cops, and court personnel hung out there for obvious reasons. Except for my best friends Sophia and Mara and a handful of other people, I didn't like to associate with other lawyers. Quite frankly, they bored the shit out of me. My husband was an engineer. We were a perfect blend of right brain and left brain. Yin

and Yang. We complemented each other well. No competition between us because our careers had absolutely nothing to do with one another. I contemplated how I would tell Clay about this lunch. He was very protective of me, and when he heard some scary criminal had bullied me into lunch, he would freak. And probably be a little jealous. We'd been together for twelve years, and we still shared everything with each other. We still got jealous. I liked that about us. We still cared. I'd known at least two of our friends who'd already grown apart and divorced. I didn't believe in divorce. I didn’t believe in infidelity. I took my vows seriously. I took every oath seriously. Rock set my nerves jangling. Not that in twelve years I had never ever found another man attractive. There was that professor in college, one in law school, the partner who hired me at my first job, and a handful of other guys here and there. I wasn't oblivious to the opposite sex, and I had no delusions that my husband was either. But Rock affected me deep down. A bunch of drunk butterflies fluttered in my belly when I looked in his eyes. It—no, he— scared the shit out of me for a thousand reasons. Then there was his voice. I expected it to be rough or crude. Instead, it was smooth with a gravelly rasp that made my stomach tap dance as he asked the waitress for a private booth in the back.

"So what kind of law do you practice?" Hope looked up from her vigorous study of the menu. "Landlord tenant, family law, estate stuff some times," she rattled off each area quickly then ducked her head back down to the menu. Not one who liked to be ignored, I persisted. "Family law. Like custody and stuff?" "Yes," she answered without looking up. "I know a few guys who could probably use your help." Finally, I had her full attention. She focused her bright green eyes on me and quirked an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Are you one of them?" "Hell, no. Thank God I wasn't dumb enough to have any kids with my ex." "So you're divorced?" "Yeah. She's making some other poor bastard miserable now." Her glossy pink lips curled into a tight smile. "I'm sure." I got the impression I offended her. Normally, I wouldn’t give a fuck. But I found

myself wanting her to like me. Why, I couldn’t guess. "What can I get you guys?" The bored waitress tapped her pencil against the small green pad in her hand. "Go ahead, doll." The endearment tripped off my tongue before I had a chance to think about it. I didn't normally give girls I didn't know nicknames. Or if I did, they were generic: mama or sweetie. "Bitch" if they pissed me off. She’s so damn sweet and innocent, though. I guess she reminded me of a living doll. I got a scowl in response. "Half a turkey sandwich and an order of sweet potato fries." "She'll have a whole sandwich, and I'll have the double bacon cheeseburger and another order of sweet potato fries." Hope's eyes pretty much bugged out of her head when I changed her order, but she held her tongue. I liked a smart girl who knew when to pick her battles. Once the waitress left, I continued as if nothing had happened. Hope, surprisingly, followed my lead. "So what do you charge for a consultation?" "Free hour consultation. One-fifty an hour after that." "Seems awfully cheap." She snorted. "First time I've ever heard that. Assigned counsel work only pays seventy-five an hour. One-fifty seems downright greedy." I raised an eyebrow, indicating she should elaborate. "Not everyone can afford a lawyer. Court appoints them off a list in certain situations. The county only pays seventy-five an hour." I nodded. "Who usually does your work?" "Robert Glassman." "White shoe. No wonder my rates seem cheap to you. His firm doesn't do family court stuff?" "Nope." "I'm sure he can give you a name." "I'm sure he can. But I like you. If you're half as good as you were in there today, I'll pay you double your regular fee." "Look, Mr. North—" "Rock." She drew up her shoulders as she took in a deep, irritated breath before continuing as if I hadn't spoken. "I really didn't do anything special today. I appreciate that you think I did. But you're not off the hook yet. I'd hate for you to have some inflated opinion of me, then be disappointed later." I considered her words carefully before answering. This girl had self-esteem issues that went pretty deep, and I couldn't figure out how that was possible. She was fucking gorgeous as hell. Obviously smart. "What does your husband do?" The change in conversation seemed to startle Hope. She sat back and narrowed

her eyes at me. "He's an engineer." "Like on the railroad?" That didn't get a laugh out of her. Instead, she scowled deeper. "No, as in building bridges—civil engineering." "So, not a lawyer?" "God, no." "How long you been married?" More scowling, some fidgeting. "We've been together for twelve years. Married six." "Kids?" An adorable snort. "No." "How come?" "Are you this nosy with Glassman?" "Yes." "Bullshit." "Know he's got two kids. Both boys. His ol’ lady stays home with them." She shook her head, but I wasn't sure which part annoyed her more—that I knew about Glassman's personal life, or that I referred to his wife as ol’ lady. Probably both. Still, I couldn’t help finding out more about her. "Did you grow up around here?" "No." I waited for her to keep talking, but she didn’t. "Got any other family in the area?" "My mother and her husband live about an hour north of here." From the way she said it, I guessed her mother remarried later in life, or Hope straight up didn’t like her stepfather. "Your dad remarried too?" A flash of pain crossed her face. Rapid blinking. Her fist clenched around the napkin. "He died when I was thirteen." Oh fuck. Could I be a bigger asshole? "Here ya go." The waitress settled our food on the table, yanking us out of the awkward moment. Hope jerked the ketchup bottle off the table and began liberally dousing her plate of fries. I watched her push half the turkey sandwich to the side. The other half she took the top slice of bread off and set some of the meat aside. Then she scraped off all but a trace of mayo, put it back together, and began eating. I loved all her adorable pickiness. "What are you into, Rock?" she asked after the first swallow. "Motorcycles, movies, long walks on the beach." Instead of smiling, she glared at me. "Glassman is big-time criminal defense." I lifted my shoulders. "We've known each other a long time." "I bet you have." "I own Crystal Ball over in Empire." "Ah."

"You know it?" "I know of it. Who doesn't around here?" This was true. It wasn't an accident that Crystal Ball was the last strip club left in a fifty-mile radius. Believe it or not, we ran a clean house. As clean as a club can be that stores weapons in the basement and launders money. But hard drugs, prostitution—the things you normally found at strip clubs—did not exist in mine. That was also not an accident. "You ever been?" "God, no. What would I do there?" "You could probably make a lot of money as a dancer." Instead of getting angry, she threw back her head and laughed. "I’m flattered, but I'm a little old for that." "You can't be more than what, twenty-five, twenty-six?" "I'm thirty-one. Not that it's any of your business." She cocked her head and stared at me through narrowed eyes. "You think I've been with my husband since junior high?" Well, yeah—that's exactly what I thought, which is why it shocked me that she didn’t have kids by now. Realizing she was older than I first guessed made me reexamine her more closely. She didn’t just act tough. She was tough. "Are you going to eat the rest of that?" I jerked my chin toward her plate. She rolled her eyes, then glanced down at the half turkey sandwich and pile of meat. "No," she said evenly. I pushed my plate out of the way and slid hers in front of me.

What the ever loving hell? I was so far in over my head it wasn't even funny. I watched Rock pile the extra turkey onto the sandwich and take a huge bite. Wow, this guy was pure sex on wheels. Well, sex on a motorcycle, to be more precise. Over the years, I'd heard the same rumors everyone else in the Capital Region had heard. Some clandestine organization supposedly ran Crystal Ball. That's why when all the other clubs in the area folded under pressure from town boards, eminent domain, and zoning regulations, Crystal Ball continued to thrive as if nothing happened. The last competition, Club Salvatore, had been eminent domained until the building sat on a postage-stamp-sized piece of land with no parking lot or way for people to get into or out of the building. The empty shell of what remained of Club Salvatore rested less than a mile from Crystal Ball's front door.

If Rock owned Crystal Ball, this solved an interesting mystery. To my admittedly limited knowledge, no one knew who owned the upscale strip club. The local papers always reported it was run by an overseas company. Since one of the patches on his leather vest read "President," I assumed that meant Crystal Ball was actually owned by the Lost Kings Motorcycle Club. And he wanted me to work for him. Something I had to admit, I kind of wanted to do. While I sat there, I told myself it was about the money. Even one custody case at three hundred dollars an hour could be enough to start digging myself out of the very deep financial hole I was in. Even though my practice kept me busy, between the high-interest mortgage my husband and I could not seem to get out from under, and my insanely high student loan payments, making ends meet was a struggle. It’s not like we spent money unwisely either. Having grown up with nothing, Clay was very financially prudent. If I could just get ahead, even a little bit, I'd sleep a hell of a lot easier at night. Rock seemed to be offering me a way to do that. I’d be crazy to say no, right? "You're wrong about Glassman. He handles our business stuff too. Zoning, permits, licenses—that sort of thing." Rock’s low voice pulled me out of my paying-off-some-debt daydreams. I nodded but kept my mouth shut. I knew Glassman's fancy-pants firm had a department to cover probably everything. I'd bet my thirteen-year-old Honda Civic they had an attorney who did family court work too, so Rock didn't really need my help. Which meant he wanted me for some other reason. I'm not going to lie—that tempted me even more than the money.

3

"I had a weird day today."

My husband glanced over at me while he removed his button-down shirt. After neatly hanging it up, he slipped on a loose-fitting T-shirt, gave me a peck on the cheek, and focused his full attention on me. "Tell me about it, honey." "I got roped into doing an arraignment. But it might lead to some private family court work." Clay quirked an eyebrow at me. "That is weird," he agreed. "But also good, right? You've been after more private pay clients." "Yeah, the county work is nice and steady, but they take forever to pay me. Plus, I can make so much more privately." "So, what's the problem?" See, this was why Clay and I worked. He knew me so well. We didn't keep secrets from each other. "I think it means I'll be doing work for the Lost Kings Motorcycle Club." He raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything right away. "Well, the way those guys are rumored to spread their seed around, I'm sure there will be plenty of work to keep you busy." I wanted to tell Clay more. But I didn't know how to phrase it. Rock scared me. Yet he excited me too. I didn't see how my husband would understand that. Hey, I'm kind of attracted to this big, scary biker dude, honey. Seemed like the wrong thing for a wife to say to her husband. So, I nodded and let him tell me about his day instead.

THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, I found myself entering Crystal Ball at one o'clock in the afternoon. Nervous about this meeting, I'd taken a lot of care getting ready. I wore gray plaid dress pants with lines of teal shot through, and I paired a teal sweater set and teal patent-leather pumps with the outfit. I was covered from head to toe, more casual than wearing a suit, but still professional. To keep my look classy and

make myself less attractive to Rock, I pulled my hair into a severe bun, pinning it at the back of my neck. I slipped on my glasses too. I really only needed the thick, black square-framed lenses for driving, but I thought they'd make me look more grown up. It still annoyed me that he'd thought I was so young. Not that I hadn't run into that problem before, but it always made me feel like I must come across as not very bright or good at what I did. Walking into Crystal Ball made me incredibly self-conscious. I felt fat, frumpy, and old next to the sleek, glittered-up goddesses performing for the intimate afternoon crowd. Rock sat at the bar with his back to the stage, which surprised me. When our eyes met, he slid from his stool to greet me. He swept his gaze over me in a way that both pissed me off and turned my knees to jelly. Seconds of awkward silence stretched between us before he shifted back to the bar. "Find Bricks and have him meet me in the office," he shouted over the pulsing music. When he turned back to me, focusing his searing gray eyes on me, I had to bite down on my lower lip to stop it from quivering. This attraction was getting ridiculous. He held two bottles of water in one hand and motioned me toward the back of the club with the other. The uncomfortable warmth of his hand at the small of my back unnerved me as we maneuvered through the narrow hallway. We stopped at a door with no nameplate or signage to indicate what was inside. Rock withdrew a key from his pocket. Opening the door, he ushered me inside first, closing it behind us. "You're really rocking the naughty librarian thing, Ms. Kendall." Of all the things I expected he might say, that never crossed my mind. "Excuse me?" He gestured to one of the chairs in front of the large oak desk before settling himself behind it. "Sit." I sat, but I wasn't happy about it. "This." He gestured to my hair, then trailed his finger in the air down lower. I shivered, imagining those fingers tracing over my body in the same way. He must have noticed because one corner of his mouth quirked up in a knowing smile. "This," he said again, "is hot." "You've got a roomful of naked women out there, but cardigans and wool pants turn you on?" I winced at the words I'd chosen. His sharp laughter echoed around us in the small room. "Yeah, doll. Though I'll admit the turtleneck is overkill." I pursed my lips and looked down to my shoulder bag. Without speaking, I took out a fresh legal pad and my favorite pen. A knock sounded and Rock shouted, "Come in." "Bricks, this is Hope Kendall. She's going to help you with your custody case." I could understand how Bricks got his name. Built like the proverbial brick shit house, he was maybe an inch or two taller than me. Close-cropped dark hair,

caramel skin, sparkling brown eyes, and a sensual mouth that probably made a lot of women happy. I slid my gaze south, checking out the ink on his forearm. Baby feet, names, dates. He lifted his lips in a sincere smile and held out his hand. "Thanks for helping me out, Miss Kendall." "No problem." I turned to Rock. "You need to leave." The tension rose, and I realized speaking to him in that tone had been a mistake —but he had me so damn freaked out after his naughty librarian comment. "To preserve confidentiality, I need to speak to him alone," I clarified, trying to save some of my dignity and possibly my life. He pinned me with a hard stare. "The club is paying your fee." Any lingering embarrassment faded as I met his challenging gaze. "Doesn't matter." I jabbed my pen in Bricks’s general direction. "He's my client." Rock tilted his head to the side, studying me. I wondered if he kept a gun in this office, then decided that was a stupid question. Finally, he pushed his palms flat on the desk and stood. He swept his hand through the air over his desk and bowed his head. "Please, use my desk." Ignoring his mocking tone, I muttered, "Thank you." I snuck around the opposite side, which made Rock smirk. Poor Bricks looked back and forth between us before finally taking a seat. When the door clicked closed, I started my consultation with my new client.

I stood outside my office door trying not to laugh. Holy fuck, I’d met my match in Hope Kendall. "Hey, Big Poppa," a sing-song voice called from the entrance to the hallway. I tipped up my head to catch Inga staring at me. Fuck. Officially, the MC had a nofraternizing policy with the strippers. The local girls anyway. Too much potential for drama. I was pretty sure this rule got broken with some regularity. Mostly because I'd broken it myself. Inga was not local talent. She was a feature dancer from out of town. A minor porn star. She'd be major very soon if she kept her nose clean. Her big blue eyes and long blonde hair gave her an innocent, girl-next-door appearance that brought in a lot of money. She worked that look with a schoolgirl routine that, while lacking in originality, was extremely hot. We'd fucked. A lot.

Every time she came to town, to be exact. Clearly she expected things to go the way they always went. What she did when she left my town, I had no idea. Nor did I care. We practiced safe sex, and I knew the porn industry was heavily self-regulated, so she got tested often. Who she spread her legs for when she left my club was not my concern. I couldn't even say I’d ever watched one of her films. I looked back at the door. How much longer could a consultation take? What had Hope said? An hour? Fuck, if I could remember. Bricks could be trusted. He wouldn't maul Hope. He was a good guy. Cared only about his kids. Hope was safe with him. Inga could help me relieve some of the tension that had coiled up inside my body the minute Hope walked in the front door looking like something out of a Hot-forTeacher video. Fucking wool pants were almost worse than her prim little skirt suits. All I could think of was how it would feel to slide those pants off her shapely legs and leave her standing in nothing but those shiny pumps. "Hey, babe," I answered.

Bricks, who I'd learned worked as a mason before coming to work for Rock— doing what I hadn't exactly ascertained—seemed like a decent guy who honestly cared about what was best for his children. Perusing his divorce decree, I noted he'd given his ex the house and a pretty nice car without taking anything in exchange. He'd also agreed to support payments well above what the state statute dictated. Yet, his ex wanted more money while at the same time was trying to curtail his visitation. I’ll admit it pissed me off a little on his behalf. One of the things that made me a lousy lawyer was my inability to keep my objectivity once I determined my client was getting royally screwed. The money didn't bother him, but keeping him from his children did. By this point in my career, I'd met enough deadbeat parents to be impressed with Bricks. I really wanted to help him. "You were more than generous in the divorce. I think any judge is going to look at her new demands and see what she's about. Don't worry," I counseled. Bricks sat back in his chair and seemed relieved. "Thanks, Ms. Kendall. I just want what's best for them. That's why I let her have the house. No reason for them to have to change schools or leave the house they grew up in just 'cause Sue and I can't get along. But only letting me see them every other weekend is bullshit." I had to agree. Unless he wasn't telling me something, there was no way a judge

would grant her request. I explained this as carefully as I could without being insulting. Nothing annoyed me more than having a client keep information I might need from me. "I started seeing someone. I don't let my new girl around my kids yet. Too soon, you know? Somehow Suzie found out, and she's pissed. Even though she's been shacking up with some deadbeat for months now. Thinks I don't know." Okay. Now that made sense. Happened all the time with exes. "Is there any chance you want to go for full custody?" "Nah, kids need their mom, right?" Though there were some judges around who still favored the mother, using the "tender years" approach, this was becoming more and more rare. I'd been trained in the more enlightened age, where custody was decided based on the best interest of the child. I explained that using as little legal jargon as possible. "I'd love to see them more. I'd even move closer if we could, like, share stuff. If Sue would just be more flexible, you know? Sometimes I'm…on call and I gotta take off. She'd use that shit against me in a heartbeat." I nodded, although I had no idea what he meant by "on call." On paper, he worked for Crystal Ball, but I couldn’t imagine what kind of emergencies strippers had that would necessitate him being on call. "Her mom watches them when Sue goes to work. I don't got anyone to help me out," he explained. "I understand. Keep it in the back of your mind. I think we have a good chance at fighting this. Maybe if we squash it this time, she'll think twice about trying again." "That would be awesome. I hate having this hanging over my head." He stood and jammed his hand into his pocket. "What do I owe you for today?" I waved my hand in the air, while I pushed my chair away from the desk and stood up. "Rock said he would take care of my fee. This consultation was free anyway, so don't worry about it." Bricks’s eyes widened, but he nodded and offered to shake my hand. We walked into the hallway. "I have all your info, so I will call you when I file our response and send you a copy." I fished a card out of my pocket and handed it over. "If you can't make any court dates, you need to let me know right away—" I stopped in mid-sentence as a tall, giggling blonde came out of what looked like a storage closet, Rock right behind her with his hand on her ass. Dressed in nothing but a gold bikini top, itty-bitty plaid skirt, and six inch heels, I assumed the blonde worked here as a dancer. Her two dirt-stained knees and Rock's lazy grin left no doubt what they'd been up to in the closet. Rock's gaze swung to mine and his mouth flattened. "Inga, go get ready for your set." He shoved both hands into his pockets and took a step away from the stunning dancer. Not offended in the least, she grinned. "Sure thing, boss." She focused on Bricks

next. "Hey, you." "Hey, Inga, when did you get in?" A sly smile spread over her full, red lips. "Couple minutes ago." She jerked her chin at me and tilted her head. Since Rock was surprisingly quiet, Bricks ended up introducing me. "This is Hope Kendall. She's gonna help me out with the court stuff for my kids." Inga's eyes settled on me. "You're a lawyer?" "Yeah." She nodded. "I thought about going to law school, but figured I'd make more money dancing." "You're probably right," I answered. Her lips curled into a genuine smile. "You ever deal with the IRS?" "Not yet." "They hassling you, babe?" Rock asked, his voice full of concern. I tried not to puke. Her bony shoulders lifted. I admired this girl, standing half-naked in a hall full of fully clothed people, having obviously just gone down on her boss, for having the moxie to discuss her taxes. I mean seriously, where can I sign up for that kind of self-confidence? I looked to Bricks who shrugged, then took off, leaving me alone with the lovebirds. Awesome.

"Go get ready," I said for the second time. "Sure." Inga turned and headed toward the dressing rooms. She swung a look over her shoulder and I knew why, but I kept my hand still. Any other time, I'd give her a slap on the ass. In front of anyone else, I wouldn't care. Fucking Hope made me care, and I didn't like it at all. I also didn't like that it rattled me when she caught us coming out of the supply closet. I did not let bitches rattle me for any reason. "Well, I should get going." Hope turned and headed back inside my office. "Think you can help Bricks?" I asked as I followed her inside. She didn’t bother to look at me. "Definitely," she answered after a moment of hesitation. "What’s the retainer?" "It's going to take at least ten hours minimum. I need to draft a response.

Maybe one or two court appearances. I don't anticipate much more than that." "So, three thousand?" She sighed. "Fifteen hundred will be fine." "Three grand. And after ten hours of work, I expect you to send me a bill for the additional money." She made a non-committal humming noise but still refused to look at me. "Uh, I'm sorry about that." I gestured lamely toward the hallway and wanted to kick myself in the balls. What the fuck did I have to apologize for? My club. My employee. Hope had made it crystal clear she was not available. I should be able to stick my dick anywhere I damned well pleased without feeling guilty about it, for fuck’s sake. Surprised, she met my gaze. "I don't care who gobbles your knob, Mr. North." What an odd phrase to come out of my sweet, proper attorney’s mouth. I choked back my laughter. "By that tone, it seems like you do." Color rushed into her cheeks, but she didn’t break our eye contact. "I really don’t. Our relationship is purely business. If that's how you run your club, it’s not my concern." She was pissed, and I couldn't figure out why. "I need to get home to my husband," she gritted through clenched teeth. Ah. She might as well have just admitted this attraction was mutual. Well, well, well. I closed the door behind me and watched her scoop her stuff off my desk and throw it into her bag. When she stopped moving, I noticed her trembling hands. A thrill ricocheted through me, knowing I affected her too. "You okay, Hope?" She looked up at me, her mouth falling open. It took a second before I realized why. I'd just used her first name for the first name. "I'm fine," she said as she edged herself around to the front of the desk. I stepped behind and pulled out the top drawer. I grabbed the fat envelope sitting there and handed it to her. She glanced at the cash, but I don't think she counted it before slipping it into her bag. "Thanks." She turned, and when her fingers wrapped around the handle, I called to her. "Wait." Her hand stilled, but she didn't turn around. "Hope." I liked the sound of her name on my tongue. Those few short steps made me feel like a predator. As I reached her, she turned to face me. "What?" she snapped. I threw my hands up against the door on either side of her head, pressing her back. Those beautiful, bright green eyes widened. Her breath came in little pants, making her chest rise and fall, drawing my attention to her generous rack. Unlike every other girl in my club, those tits had to be real, and I wanted to see them. As I lowered my head, her eyes fell closed. Fucking pleasure at that simple detail shot through me. After only a slight brush of my lips to hers, she whimpered. I teased

my tongue along the seam of her lips, and she parted them immediately. As I swept my tongue against hers, her citrusy tang called me to do more. I pressed myself more firmly against her, shifting my hands from the door to the sides of her face so I could hold her the way I wanted. Her bag landed on the floor with a thud, but the only sounds coming from her were greedy little pleading noises. Her hands fluttered by my sides, almost tickling before she settled them at my hips, curling her fingers into the waistband of my jeans. I'd shot my load down Inga's throat not ten minutes ago, but I still found myself hard as a hammer and ready to pound into Hope. My encounter with Inga hadn’t included kissing—none of them ever did. But kissing Hope got me more worked up than an open-mouthed Inga down on her knees. I ground my cock against her belly, letting her know what she did to me. Mistake. Instead of encouraging her, it stopped her cold. She threw her head back, banging it against the door with a thud. Her hands flew up to my shoulders in an attempt to press me back. Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes. "I can't do this." "Sure you can, doll. You were doing a fine job." That tough-girl scowl I found so hot flashed across her face, then she ducked down under my arm and to my right, nearly tripping over her heels. My arm shot out to steady her, but she jerked away from me. "I need to go." I waved my arm to the side and backed away from the door. "No one's stopping you, doll." The thick tension in the air rippled as she looked between the door and me, trying to decide if I planned to stop her, I guessed. The last thing I wanted was for her to leave, but I wouldn't keep her against her will either. It just wasn't my style. I scooped her bag off the floor, checking to make sure nothing had fallen out. Extending my arm, I handed her the bag, and she snatched it from me. With a sigh, I opened the door. She slid through it, careful not to brush against me on her way out.

Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! What did I just do? I berated myself all the way out to the parking lot. I'd kissed another man. Almost done a hell of a lot more. Wanted to do a lot more. "Hope, wait." His deep, gravelly voice stopped me. I didn't turn around, but I didn't move forward either. Why couldn’t I make a clean getaway?

The crunch of his boots over the asphalt warned me he was close, but I still didn't turn around. Finally, his big hands settled on my shoulders and turned me to face him. I ducked my head to avoid those stormy gray eyes. "I'm sorry. I really need to go." "Don't apologize. I like you, Hope." I decided it was time to reach down and find my backbone. "Like the way you like Inga? Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not the kind of woman who gets on her knees in some filthy closet." I touched my fingers to the corner of my mouth. "I'm so stupid. You probably gave me cold sores." Instead of angering him, my reckless remarks made him laugh out loud. Having him laughing at my expense after making a fool of myself was the last straw. "I'm glad you think that's funny. But I can't do this. I'm married." "I don't mind." My hands curled into fists at my side. "I mind! I don't cheat." "Okay, doll, whatever you say." Suddenly, he released my shoulders. Instantly, I regretted the loss of his touch, which only infuriated me more. "Stop calling me that," I snapped.

My jaw locked as I held back the laughter I knew would only get her more ticked off at me. I hadn't even realized I'd started after her until the glare of the afternoon sun hit me. By then, I needed to grab her and make things right before she stormed off. And never came back. Because the thought of not seeing her again left me cold. "Fine, Hope. I respect you. I'm sorry I got carried away. It won't happen again." There. I'd managed to give her my most reasonable tone of voice and not choke on the words because I wasn't even a little sorry. Her shoulders relaxed, and the expression on her face softened as she finally met my gaze. "Thank you. It's not your fault. Around you, I feel—" The absurdly loud buzz of a motorcycle on the main road drowned her soft voice out. Since bikes were my thing, naturally I tipped my head up to see who would be stupid enough to ride that loud near my club. Fuck. I recognized the ape hangers and the logo on the cut. I pushed Hope behind me as I watched the Viper cruise by. His bottom rocker identified him as from out of town. Not good. Where there was one, there had to be more of them moving in from other charters. The fucker had the nerve to take an unnatural interest in

Hope, and I didn’t like it one fucking bit. "What's wrong?" Her timid voice came from behind me. Pride surged through me when I realized she'd moved and stayed put without me even having to ask. She trusted me. Her hands settled against my shoulder blades, and I swear even through the thin material of my tee and the thick leather cut, her warmth pulsed against my skin. When the Viper finally moved out of sight, I hooked my arm around her waist and hauled her in front of me. "Nothing. Just never know." Her forehead wrinkled, but she wisely chose to keep her opinions to herself. "Now, what were you saying?" Guilt flashed in her eyes. Her gaze darted somewhere over my shoulder before she answered, "I don't remember." I took her words at face value. I’d messed with her head enough today. If it wasn't for the damn ring around her finger, I'd have her on my bike on the way to my house so damn fast. But, believe it or not, I didn't believe in cheating either. And honestly, I liked her too much to disrespect her. Above everything else, I knew I couldn’t stand it if she ended up hating me. "I should make an appointment to come into your office to talk about a few business things." "My office is in my house. I meet my clients at a friend's office downtown usually." Fuck me. The thought of going to her house, seeing what she liked to surround herself with, and getting in her personal space excited me a lot more than I liked to admit. "So your friend's office, then." "Okay. You have my number. Call me and we'll set something up." Curiosity, mixed with a strong desire for her to stay, made me ask, "Why don’t you have a regular office?" Her cheeks reddened, and she fixed her gaze on the ground. "Can't afford the overhead yet. My buddy is nice enough to let me use his space, or I use a room at the courthouse, or like today, I come to my clients." I considered her words and nodded. It actually sounded like a pretty smart plan. We were interrupted by one of the girls flying into the parking lot, almost running us down. I pushed Hope out of the way and stared after the white Infinity sedan. After Lexi parked, she jumped out to apologize. "Shit—sorry, Rock." She pointed to the sky. "The glare. I didn't see you at first." I shook my head. "You need to slow down too, kid." She blushed. "Sorry, I'm late." I stifled a laugh. Lexi was always late. "Get your ass in there," I said without any bite behind the words. She was a good employee, just time challenged, which I could deal with.

"I have to get going." Hope's soft voice pulled me away from watching Lexi run through the parking lot. Hope’s keys jingled in her hand as she opened her car door. The old beater she drove surprised me. "I'd expect a lawyer to drive something flashier," I said without thinking and instantly felt like an asshole as I saw her flinch. She chose not to say anything as she slid into the car, slamming the door shut. I knocked on the window, but she ignored me, started up the car, and took off, leaving me staring after her.

4

A lthough Hope’s business card only listed a P.O. Box, using her license plate gave

me her home address. Before I knew what the hell I was doing, my bike was winding its way out of the city, through suburbia, and down what I quickly noted was a dead end street. Shit. It's not like a lot of motorcycles probably ever ventured out here. It would seriously suck if she spotted me. What the hell could I say? I decided to drop by for some legal advice? Oh, and by the way, I hacked into the DMV database to find out where you lived. Yeah, no creepiness there. Fortunately, I found her house sat back quite a way off the quiet street. Oddly enough, her street bordered state land, so a small dirt public parking lot rested at the end of the concrete. I did a lazy turn around, trying not to stare up the treelined driveway to catch a glimpse of her. I caught a piece of her car, but not much else. I brought the bike to a stop and planted my feet on the ground. Maybe she’d come outside to grab something from her car? I shook my head. This woman was turning me into a crazy-assed stalker. Part of me realized I was a little obsessed, but I couldn’t muster up a single givea-fuck. Although, it would have been awfully embarrassing if she’d caught me. Even worse if one of her neighbors called the cops because some shady dude on a bike was casing the lovely Ms. Kendall’s house. Common sense finally returned, and I headed back to Crystal Ball. The ride took about thirty minutes but did nothing to clear my head. I couldn’t forget the soft press of her lips against mine. The taste of her mouth. A hint of her fresh, clean scent still clung to me. The memory of how sweet and light she smelled up close. Nothing like the heavy floral or foodie scents I was used to the girls at the club bathing themselves in. I needed to get a grip. For fuck’s sake, I’m a biker. I shouldn’t be musing about perfume like some lovesick pansy. Of course, my little excursion hadn’t gone unnoticed. Dex ran out to the parking lot the minute I pulled in.

"Boss, where were you? We got a situation." Slipping off my helmet, I pasted on my concerned boss face. When wasn’t there a situation here? Couldn’t I take a few minutes to stalk someone in peace? "What now?" "Lexi's boyfriend is inside." He jerked his thumb toward the front door. "She's freaking out and won't go onstage." "Christ, I thought she dumped that asshole?" Dex shrugged before falling in behind me as I stormed into the club. Fucking hell. I hated this drama bullshit. "Why didn’t you or Blue kick his ass out?" Dex shrugged. "He didn't do anything. Paid his cover charge, bought his drinks." "I don't fucking care. Blue never should've let his ass in the door in the first place." Fucking bouncers were useless if they were too busy paying attention to the naked chicks on stage instead of who was coming in the front door. Dex pointed the guy out to me. Sitting in the corner, nursing a non-beer, he wasn’t causing any trouble. Yet. Stalking into the back, I knocked on the dressing room door. "Lex, come on out, babe." I leaned against the opposite wall and waited for her to poke her head out. Well, at least she wasn’t all red-faced and teary like the last time this happened. "Is he gone?" "No. Babe, he’s not doing anything. Can’t just kick him out for no reason." Slick red lips pushed into a pout. Judging by the pinstripe miniskirt, necktie, and barely-there white blouse she had her assets crammed into, she planned to do her Office Tramp routine tonight. Good thing—it always netted her a lot of cash from the corporate drones who dropped in here on their way home "Come on. Between Blue, Dex, and me, if he breathes wrong, we’ll haul his ass out." "Promise you’ll stay?" Fuck. I really wanted to go home. "Yeah, I’ll stick around." She still looked hesitant. "You don’t have to go to his table or give him a lap dance, sweetie." "Okay." "Good girl. Go get side stage. Reagan’s almost done." She didn’t bother going back in the dressing room, thank fuck. No, she put her game face on and strutted down the hallway. Tight, perfectly round ass cheeks peeked out from under her tiny skirt with each step. Still unbearably wound up from Hope’s kiss, I considered offering Lexi a ride home after her set. Inga still lurked around the club somewhere, but no way did I want to stick my dick in her twice in one day. Might give her the wrong idea. Lexi’s signature song trickled over the speakers, so I headed out front to keep an

eye on her ex. Ginger was busy giving him a lap dance, so either he didn’t give a fuck about Lexi, or he was here to make her jealous. Dropping my concerned boss face, I pasted on my scary biker mask, which I felt a lot more at home in. One hard pinch of Ginger’s ass later, Blue and I helped the douchebag out the door. On our way back inside, I pinned Blue to the wall with my finger in his chest. "No more, Blue. You pay fucking attention to who’s coming in the door." "Gotcha, boss." After dealing with that nonsense, I took my sorry ass home. Involving myself with Lexi was a complication I didn’t need tonight. My empty house bothered me for some reason. I should have gone up to the clubhouse instead. Never a quiet moment there, and always the possibility of some eager, uncomplicated pussy. I still couldn't get Hope out of my head. Was she home thinking about our kiss? Fuck, had she told her husband about that smoking-hot face-suck? Were they fighting about it right now? Or had I fired her up and sent her home to fuck another man? That last thought depressed the hell out of me. I wondered what her husband looked like. Probably some nerdy dickwad who didn’t dare go to strip clubs and had never ridden a bike. Hope most likely thought of me as nothing more than an exciting way to add a little spice to her dull, suburban life. With a nasty smile, I wondered if the next time she fucked her husband, she’d close her eyes and picture my face. Eventually I managed to get some sleep. Hope’s pretty eyes and sexy mouth tormenting every single dream. Over the next few months, I took many more drives down her dead end street. By some miracle, she never spotted me, even though a part of me always wanted her to. I was playing with fire, and it was only a matter of time before one of us got burned.

I never told Clay about the incident at Crystal Ball. That’s how I referred to it in my head. The Incident. It wasn't going to happen again, so I didn't see the point in stirring up trouble. I’d never lied to my husband before. The guilt gnawed through my stomach, but still I kept silent. I knew if I opened that can of worms, there would be uncomfortable questions I couldn't answer. All of this brewing in my head meant I couldn't forget what it felt like to be

pressed up against Rock. His mouth over mine. He was hard where I was used to softer. I had to tip my head up to kiss him, whereas Clay and I were almost the same height. I hated myself for all of these thoughts and comparisons. Clay was a good man, and he loved me. We had a solid marriage. What was my problem? Boredom? Midlife crisis? Although it was a little early for that. Dissatisfaction with the way my life had turned out? Maybe. Did I want to have a fling with Rock? Absolutely not. A man like him would only bring me heartache and probably an STD. I didn’t even like him. If I kept telling myself that, maybe I’d believe it. Since I’d sworn off ever setting foot in Crystal Ball again, Bricks and I conducted all our future appointments at my friend's office. Each time, he brought me cash in an envelope that I assumed had come from Rock. Eventually we worked out a fair agreement with his ex that allowed him to take on more parenting time with his children. He was very effusive in his thanks, and it helped to feel good about something for a change. At the oddest times, I heard the roar of an unfamiliar engine, throaty and loud on my street. The rumble reminded me of Rock, even though I realized I’d never even seen his bike. I’d never given much thought to motorcycles in my life, but now I saw and heard them everywhere. I bet he drove something big, dark, and scary looking. Situated far off our little street and shielded by trees and shrubbery, I didn't have a clear view of our road. Some days I'd fantasize about him cruising up to my front door and ordering me to hop on the back of his Harley. Months went by without a word from Rock. Still, I couldn't erase his image or touch from my mind. Then he called. "Another marijuana charge? Rock, really?" He shrugged at my schoolmarmish tone while I tried to imagine him with a case of the munchies. The only stoners I'd ever known had been in high school, and they'd all been soft, marshmallow-y types. Not hard like Rock. He seemed so in control and disciplined that I found it difficult to picture him glassy-eyed and elbow deep in Doritos. "How many does this make?" He waved a hand in the air dismissively. "It's only a matter of time until it's legal here." "Well, in the meantime, it's not. Take a trip to Colorado if you need to get high." This pending charge was a little more serious because of the amount he'd been caught with. I got the feeling there was more to the story he wasn't telling me, which ticked me off. There was nothing worse than a client lying to you and getting blindsided in court because of it. At that point in my career, it had already happened to me twice. I honestly think being stripped naked and forced to walk through the courthouse would be less humiliating. Or maybe I was just overly sensitive. Who knew?

Since the day I met Rock at his impromptu arraignment, I'd managed to log a few more hours in criminal court. Mostly minor drug charges. I seemed to have a knack for it, and my buddy Adam had taken to calling me "the pot lawyer" which embarrassed the hell out of me when he introduced me that way to colleagues. An older attorney I knew had sort of taken me under his wing and given me more confidence in handling criminal matters. It still freaked me out because defending people in criminal court meant their liberty was at stake. It terrified me to think that some flaw or weakness of mine could send an innocent person to prison. My mentor told me that once I lost that fear, I should retire. Rock and I met at Adam’s office. I'd been using the space so much, he’d given me an empty room not much bigger than a closet. I’d even started paying him rent on a semi-regular basis. Our meeting took place in the conference room, because after a filing cabinet, chair, and desk had been added to my office, I had no room left to conduct a client interview. Not satisfied I had the whole story, I gave Rock my lawyer-client confidentiality speech—as in nothing he told me would leave this room, so please just tell me the fucking truth. He flashed an indulgent smile at me. "Don't you trust me?" "I can do a better job if I have all the facts." He lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug, while I fought the urge to grab my red Swingline stapler and clock him with it. Blowing out an exasperated breath, I managed to hang onto my professionalism. Just barely. "Fine, let me make some calls and see how hard they want to pursue this. The DA portrays himself as tough on the news, but in court, he's really been backing off these petty drug charges lately." Rock warmed up to the subject. "It's a waste of time when they could be out there prosecuting real criminals." "Yes, I think that's his reasoning. But you also have a record, so he might not budge." "Do what you can. I trust you." Sure you do, I thought, still convinced he was holding something back. Oh, and let’s not forget the fact that I wished I trusted myself around him. My body remembered every second of the kiss Rock and I had shared. My heart kept thumping so hard I feared he could hear it all the way across the table. And I absolutely refused to acknowledge how damp my panties were. My cheeks burned, so I knew I had to be bright red. He cocked his head and nailed me with one of his smoldering stares. "You okay?" "I'm fine," I answered while tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "Your hands are shaking." This was true. A polite person would have ignored it. He knew the reason why. He just wanted to unsettle me.

"You're flushed," he continued. "I'm fine," I answered in a tone meant to shut him up. My phone buzzed, and I mentally pumped my fist in the air in relief. Staring at the screen, I realized I needed to get going if I wanted to make it to court on time. I stood and collected his file. "I have to be in court this afternoon." He pushed his chair back and got to his feet slowly. I was very aware of the way he watched me as I tucked his file under my arm and exited the conference room. A few quick steps down the hall, and I set the stack of folders on top of my filing cabinet. I unearthed my briefcase from behind my desk and checked to see if I had everything I needed for the afternoon. Whipping myself around, I collided with a wall of muscle. His warm, heavy hands settled on my shoulders to steady me—the first time we'd touched all afternoon. I wanted to swoon. Did women still swoon? Didn't matter…I wanted to. "I have to get going," I whispered. Dammit, why did my voice disappear every time he touched me? I’d avoided his eyes during our whole appointment. Rude, yes. But I couldn’t risk getting sucked into those stormy depths. I made the mistake of looking up. Our gazes locked and held. Studying his irises, I noted hints of blue in a sea of gray. Without thinking, my lips parted. Instead of kissing me, Rock just stared. "You have the prettiest eyes, Hope." Jinx! How’d he know I’d been thinking the same thing about him? It unnerved me so much, I broke the spell by wriggling out of his grasp. He sighed and dropped his hands.

Laying my hands on Hope did absolutely nothing to calm the storm that had been brewing in me all afternoon. The second she squirmed away from me, I sighed in defeat. I wanted to respect her marital status. I really did. Or at least I wanted to want to. "How's your husband?" That was not the right thing to say. She pinned me with an icy glare. "We're fine." "Just checking, doll. I'd never forgive myself if your situation changed and I didn't know about it." Her jaw clenched and unclenched before she answered. "My situation is not going to change."

I raised an eyebrow. Was her husband some controlling asshole? As shrewd as she was, she caught the shift in my demeanor. "God, calm down. We're just not the divorcing type. I don't believe in it." "Religious?" "No. Just a moral, decent person." Hmm. Interesting dig. "Even in abuse or adultery situations?" "No, of course not. But Clay would never lay a hand on me, and he's not a cheater. Neither am I," she finished with a pointed look. I got that. I really did. He was a lucky man. Women with her kind of depth and conviction were rare in my experience. It made it hard not to want that for myself. I consoled myself with the fact that at least her man treated her well. She deserved nothing but the best, and to be brutally honest—as much as I hated to admit it—I wouldn't be good for her. Although she turned me on like no other woman I’d ever known, we moved in different worlds. I bet she liked to get dressed up and go to fancy lawyer functions where she made uppity chit-chat and sipped white wine. I’d rather be caught dead than in a suit. Besides the massive hard-on she gave me whenever I got within three feet of her, we were not compatible. It was time to get that through my thick skull. I slipped on my shades and patted her back before leaving, wishing I had the right to do more. After our conversation, you would think I would back off, but my little trips into suburbia actually increased. I couldn't help it. When I thought the bike might garner too much attention, I started taking my SUV. Big and black with tinted windows, it was a bad-guy cliché, but it made spying in privacy a lot easier. That’s how far gone this woman got me. Of course, all these excursions didn't go unnoticed by my club. Even though I wore the President patch, I still had obligations. Because of the patch, I had an enormous amount of responsibility. I didn't let any of it slip, but I easily could have. Because of the nature of our business, a lot of our deals went down at night. Since I found myself cruising Evergreen Lane on more and more nights, this became a problem. I got sloppy. There was no excuse. It was no secret that our area had a lot of gang activity. Believe it or not, my crew played a part in keeping the worst of it out of our city and the surrounding county. That wasn't to say we weren't criminals, but drive-bys, prostitution, hard drugs— we kept them out. That didn't mean the two nearest cities bordering ours weren't teeming with guys eager to change that. It's not like people in Empire couldn't drive the five miles over the bridge to Ironworks if they needed to buy heroin or meth. Interestingly, it did not work the other way around. Dealers from Ironworks did not drive into our territory to sell the harder drugs. No one within a hundredmile radius dared to sell weed that didn’t originate in our grow house. Sometimes

rival crews tested these rules, and it never ended well for them. We had an understanding. To the east of us, Ironworks was run by an MC called the Vipers. For some reason, Ironworks was attractive to Hispanic immigrants, so the Vipers had a large portion of brown guys, but I don't think it was a requirement. We had a precarious relationship with them. They mostly dealt in prostitution. This I wanted no part of. If my girls were caught soliciting sex in the club, they were out on their asses. I did not need the hassle of Vice sniffing around. The Vipers knew this, yet they stirred up shit by attempting to send girls into my club to pick up side action occasionally. Lots of their girls were hooked on crap to keep them compliant, which I found abhorrent. I ran a clean club. My girls danced because they wanted to. They kept the same percentage of their income dancers in any legitimate club kept. I doubted the Vipers treated their women with the same respect. Crystal Ball was one of two legitimate businesses the Lost Kings operated, so I absolutely did not want anything fucking with that. My girls were clean and healthy, or they got the fuck out. Customers didn’t come into my club and pay top dollar to watch glassy-eyed girls with meth sores lazily work the pole. This was important for a number of reasons. One, Crystal Ball had a good reputation throughout the dancer community, and let me tell you—those bitches were tight. A club that engaged in questionable practices would not get top talent. The more dancers and porn stars I could rotate through my club, the better it was for business. No matter how hot the girls were, guys got tired of seeing the same thing over and over. Well, most of them. We definitely had our regulars who were attached to one girl or another, but it just kept them guessing. And kept everyone smiling all the way to the bank. To the west of us, an MC called the Wolf Knights ran Slater City. Historically, their business was in the transportation and distribution of guns—a dangerous business with serious hard time attached to it. The monetary rewards were worth it for some people. Me, I liked my freedom too much to mess with that shit. For many years we had a good working relationship with the Wolf Knights as we turned to them for any hardware needs. At one point, they tried to push into the drug trade. After a few missteps, they understood the wisdom in steering clear of the nasty shit. The Vipers did not. While I was not privy to all of their internal dealings for obvious reasons, it became widely known that there had been a shakeup in leadership. New leadership shook up the Vipers from outside. These assholes had no interest in abiding by the strict lines that had been drawn years ago. They assumed my club was small enough to intimidate into giving up territory for their meth, coke, and hooker distribution. While my particular charter was small at this time, it was not an orphan. We had a mother chapter, and we had brother chapters in surrounding areas. All I had to do was pick up the phone, and I could have enough brothers here to deal with any additional shit from the Vipers. The Wolf Knights and my club also formed a tighter alliance when faced with the sheer violent

bloodlust of the new Vipers. Rumors of rival gangs' ol' ladies or even the sweetbutts being abducted and gang raped to "send a message" had been swirling for a few weeks. Considering the number of girls in and out of Crystal Ball, this made me very uneasy and I did call in a charter club to help with protection at the strip club. A good portion of the girls had no idea the club they danced at was owned by an MC, so keeping them safe was a priority for me. It never occurred to me that the Vipers would target any female associated with us. My short-sightedness became clear while on one of my stakeouts on Evergreen Lane. While I sat staring at what I could see of Hope’s house, two bold, brazen Vipers with colors flying cruised down the quiet street. Motherfucker. My heart hammered in my chest at seeing their lazy drive by Hope's house. My hand automatically reached for the pistol I kept hidden at the small of my back. I highly doubted they were here to take a nature hike on the state land that bordered the end of the street. No, the unusual attention they paid to her driveway left no doubt why they were here. Either they'd followed me here, or they knew she worked as a lawyer for some of our club members. Didn't matter. This was bad. I’d fucked up big time. They left, but the fact that they'd even touched their bikes to Hope's street unnerved the fuck outta me. I needed to fix this immediately. First, I had to stay away from here. This was my fault. My obsession with this woman I couldn't even have was going to get her hurt or killed. I needed to end it. I had to figure out a way to get her out of my system. If she hated me, it might be a lot easier. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, I knew there was a part of her that acknowledged the chemistry between us. That knowledge made it difficult to give her up. But my inaction had caused me to lose a girl I cared about once before. I wouldn't let it happen again. Especially when now I was in a position to prevent it from happening. On my way home, I worked out a plan in my head. It would never fly unless I changed my mindset. Hope occupied way too many of my thoughts on a daily basis. I needed to go cold turkey for both our sakes. Implement my own personal Hope Kendall Detox Program. Then I could move on with my life and let her move on with hers. First, there were some safeguards I needed to put in place. Number one, I couldn’t see her any more. Seeing her made me want to spend more time with her, which made me want to kiss her, which desperately made me want to fuck her. Second, I needed to stop fantasizing about her. Fantasizing led to me wanting to see her, and well, see the first reason. That meant no more envisioning unpinning her hair, wrapping my fist in it, and taking her mouth. No more picturing myself balls deep inside her while she lay writhing and moaning beneath me. For that matter, no more picturing what she would look like naked or imagining her perfect nipples between my lips while I jerked off in the shower. And most importantly, there could absolutely be no more fantasizing about

finding her husband in a dark alley and putting two bullets in his head. Once I got myself under control, I could put the second part of my plan into motion. The one that would guarantee she would hate my guts and never want to see me again. The one that would solve all my problems—except the problem where I was pretty sure somewhere along the way I’d fallen in love with the woman I needed to destroy.

5

R ock's court date approached swiftly. I'd managed to work out an okay deal with

the new prosecutor. She'd graduated three or four years after me, which made me feel incredibly old. Rock gave me shit about the deal the day before when we'd met to discuss it. He objected to the one year of probation, which was a dance-a-jigworthy gift considering they'd originally wanted jail time. I possessed an unusual amount of self-confidence when we entered court. A bunch of his scary-looking friends accompanied Rock in a show of solidarity. I didn't think having them in the courtroom wearing their leather vests and various patches was very helpful, but as long as they didn’t cause any trouble, I planned to keep my mouth closed on the subject. After knocking at the door of the attorney conference room and told to come in, I got a shock. Theresa, the assistant district attorney I'd worked my deal out with, was not there. The district attorney himself had made a rare appearance. This was unusual for a number of reasons, and none of them were going to be good for my client. Dread marched down my spine. I pulled the plea sheet out of my file and studied it. Proof I had a deal in place. Only on rare occasions would a DA renege on a deal. "Have a seat, Ms. Kendall." Yeah, this was going to be bad. "It's good to see you, Mr. Cain. I expected Ms. Delaney. We worked out a plea earlier in the week." He shuffled through some papers. A large stack of papers. Not good at all. "Yes, I see she worked out a deal, but she never got my okay." He flipped his file closed and turned his glacial eyes on me. "Do you realize who you represent, Hope?" "Rochlan North." Maybe he had my client confused with one of his other cases. Not frickin' likely, but a girl can dream. "Mr. North is the president of the Lost Kings Motorcycle Gang. Are you aware of that?" "Club. They're a club, not a gang." His mouth flattened into a thin line, and he sat up straighter in the chair.

"We're looking at his club for a number of crimes. Prostitution, marijuana trafficking, money laundering, assault. Are you sure you're not in over your head with this one, Hope?" It would be a gross understatement to say my brain had dissolved into a puddle of jelly by this point. A low buzzing filled my ears once he started listing off alleged crimes. If what he said was true, I was indeed in over my head. I'd need to pull in my mentor and maybe another attorney to deal with all of that. I stopped myself in mid-freakout. This was a common trick. He wanted to scare me into accepting a shittier offer, and I’d been about to fall right into his trap. I straightened up and looked him in the eye, determined not to be intimidated by this asswaffle. "Tony, you know damn well the charge here is possession of less than eight ounces. If you had a shred of evidence to tie him to any of that other stuff, you'd be handing me some sort of indictment, bouncing this up to county, or calling in the AG's office. Since you’re not doing any of that, why don't you tell me what you're offering and let's wrap this up so we can stop wasting each other’s time." He'd been unnaturally still during my rundown, the rhythmic drumming of his thumb against the edge of the desk my only clue that my words had their intended effect. Clasping his hands in front of him on the desk, he leaned forward. "Fine. Here's what I'm willing to do. Five years probation." Good grief, Rock was busting my ass over the one year of probation. "I don't know if I can make that happen today, Tony. I need some time to discuss it with my client. He wasn't happy about the one year." He snorted. "Yeah, I bet. This offer is going to expire at the end of the week, Hope. You see, I've got an officer who is solid to testify. He’s also going to testify that the amount your client had on his person might have been over eight ounces. I’ll prosecute it myself." Shit, shit, shit! Over eight bumped it from a misdemeanor to a felony. I kept the tirade in my head. Antagonizing him wouldn't help me now. If it came down to a trial, I could easily argue police fuck-up with that discrepancy. I nodded calmly. "Understood. I'm going to ask Hale for a week adjournment." He scribbled some notes on the file sheet and passed it to me. "Hand that to Gloria, and I won't need to come out. Send the next attorney in, would you?" I left the room in a daze. Rock sat patiently waiting in the front row. His eyes found mine as soon as I entered the courtroom. I strode up to the side of the judge's bench and handed the file sheet to his clerk, Gloria. "Can you give me a few minutes to speak with my client before you call us up?" "Sure, hon, just nod when you're ready." I thanked her. Walking around the edge of the courtroom, I reached Rock and motioned him out into the hall. His buddies moved to join us, and I asked them to wait with a shake of my head. "What's up, counselor?" Rock asked as soon as the door shut behind us. I took a

moment to admire him. He’d left his leather vest at home. He hadn’t exactly dressed up for court, but the black T-shirt, paired with black and gray camo pants, looked neat and clean enough—not to mention the way the tight black fabric stretched over his well-muscled arms and thick chest. An evil little voice in my head whispered he'd be dark, dangerous, and sexy no matter what he wore. Shaking off the inappropriate thoughts, I focused on the problem in front of us. "The DA showed up personally. He doesn't want to honor the agreement we made. He's pushing for five years probation." "What the fuck, Hope? I thought you had this locked down?" I really didn't need him making me feel shittier than I already did. All my regular doubts about my abilities were speeding toward a meltdown without his tirade. The only thing I needed to do was get through the next half hour without crying, then I could go home and drown myself in the bathtub. He took a deep breath and in a calmer tone of voice asked, "What do we do?" "He agreed to a week adjournment, but he wants an answer by Friday." I didn't even get into all the other stuff the asshat had brought up. That was a conversation for another time and place. He nodded, his angry expression softening into something a lot kinder. His warm hand curled over my shoulder. "Thanks, Hope. You've done a really good job for me. I want you to know how much I appreciate it." The sudden sentimentality of the moment affected me. My lips pulled up into a smile, and I took a step closer. "No problem." We stood there staring at each other for a few seconds before he removed his hand. Slipping it into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and took out a handful of bills. "I want to give you this now, so I don’t forget later." I shook my head. "No. You already gave me a retainer. We're good." "Nah, take it. I know you spent more hours on this than you've billed me for." This was true. I'd never been the type of lawyer who padded her billing. If anything, I probably short-changed myself on a regular basis. No wonder I had trouble making ends meet. Arguing with him would be pointless, so I accepted the money, folding and slipping it in the pocket of my suit jacket. "Thanks." "Sure, doll." "We should make an appointment for you to come in later this week." "Yeah, I'll call you." Something sad passed over his face, but then the hard biker mask slipped back into place, erasing any softness. I nodded to Gloria as we reentered the courtroom. She called us up immediately. "Good morning, Attorney Kendall. I see from the notes you're requesting a oneweek adjournment, which the DA has agreed to?" "Yes, your honor. He's altered the terms of the plea, and I need time to review it with my client." It was a bit of a bitch move to tattle to the judge, but I wanted the stunt Tony pulled on the record. Hale raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

"Your Honor, may I speak?" Rock's voice startled me. "Say what you need to say through your lawyer, Mr. North." "Well, that's the problem, sir. I'd like to fire her and hire another attorney. I don't feel I'm getting the best representation." A sharp throb stabbed through the top of my skull. Hot and cold shivered over my skin, turning my fingers numb. My stomach cramped so painfully, I couldn't breathe. Speechless, I could only stand there with my mouth open. Judge Hale looked shocked. A hush had fallen over the courtroom. Visions of the tiny practice I'd carved for myself crumbling to nothing, losing my livelihood, foreclosure—every awful possibility passed in front of me. Shame at having to explain to my husband what happened. Would it make the County Bar newsletter if I barfed all over my shoes in open court? Projectile vomiting all over the place was becoming a very real possibility. I'd aim it at Rock, but I couldn't stand to look at him. Hale’s voice cut through my freak-out, but I couldn't hear his words over the buzzing in my skull. Finally he and Rock both looked at me. "You'll need to sign off on the motion to change attorneys, Attorney Kendall?" "Sure, whatever. I'll do it," I answered weakly. "I'm going to put this out a month so your new attorney can get up to speed, Mr. North." "Thank you, sir." I couldn't look at Rock. The judge dismissed us, and I stood there staring down at my briefcase until I was sure he was gone. The bailiff came over and put a hand on my shoulder. "You're better off, Hope. You're too good a person to be representing scum like him." I nodded dimly at Greg. We'd indulged in many friendly conversations over the last couple years, and it meant a lot that he was trying to cheer me up at what was probably the most humiliating moment of my life. Blindsided again. This hurt so much worse because I cared about Rock more than I should. I should have known better. He only wanted to fuck me, and when I wouldn’t give him what he wanted, he decided to screw me over.

"Wow, prez, that was cold," Zero remarked as we stepped out of the courthouse and onto the sidewalk. This was how he'd gotten his nickname. He had zero tolerance for bullshit and zero tact. It made him a great vice president, but a pain in

the ass at times like this. Teller, Murphy, Dex, and Wrath trailed behind us. We'd chosen to take one SUV instead of six bikes considering we were in Wolf Knights territory. Also, the police station was attached to this particular court, and we didn't need the extra hassle. "Had to be done," I bit out, expecting him to drop it. "This the broad that don't put out?" Teller didn't have any tact either. Hence his nick, as in "tell her shit she don't want to hear." I shot a glare at him, and he looked away. "She's smokin' hot, but probably means she's a shit lawyer anyway," Murphy offered. Dex wisely kept his sparks of wisdom to himself. Shrewd as usual, he would evaluate all angles before opening his mouth. I sighed. "I'll explain at church later. Just lay off the comments about her, okay?" Everyone nodded and agreed. I handed the keys to an oddly silent Wrath, because the last thing I felt like doing was driving after that brutal scene. Fuck. Publicly humiliating Hope seemed the best way out of the mess I'd created. If word got out I'd very openly cut ties with her, it should take her off the Vipers' radar. If they figured she was just some random person I had no feelings or interest in, they should turn their attention elsewhere. I couldn't risk them doing any more drive-bys of her place or worse, so this scene, no matter how painful it had been, needed to happen. As it was, I'd secured another vehicle to do my own personal stakeouts, which I feared would become a lot more common now that I had no visits with her to look forward to. But fuck me—I couldn't get the look on her face out of my head. The hurt and betrayal spelled out across her features had gutted me. It took a lot of control to keep my arms at my sides instead of wrapping them around her and calling the whole thing off. What made the fucking thing worse was I knew damn well how sensitive she was and how little self-esteem she had. With that particular shit show, I’d pretty much reinforced every negative thing she already thought about herself, and I absolutely hated myself for it. For the first time I could remember, a small part of me wondered if this life I had chosen was actually worth the pain I inflicted on others. All to keep my little family intact. The Lost Kings was the only real family I’d ever known. I’d do just about anything to protect my brothers and keep them safe, but hurting innocent people like Hope almost seemed like too high a price to pay. But the memory of a time when I'd been too oblivious to tell someone about the abuse the little girl next door took from her father convinced me I'd done the right thing. Little Cassidy Cain had been eight when her father blew her head off, shot his wife, and then turned the gun on himself. I'd been ten years old, and too

enraptured with her long, shiny hair and soft voice to recognize what the bruises she wore to school every day meant. Almost every night for the next few years, I'd wake to the sound of gunshots echoing in my dreams. Even though my father didn't let me near the crime scene, images of Cassidy's shattered face and blood-soaked hair tormented me. If only I'd made an effort to understand what her bruises meant, I could have prevented that tragedy. Never again. The Vipers knowing about Hope was a tragedy waiting to happen. Once I got this garbage with the Vipers sorted out and under control, I could explain things to her. Somehow I’d make it right and win back her trust. The chirping of my cell phone interrupted my fantasy of repairing this mess. "Hey," I answered. "I heard it went down pretty harsh. Glad I missed it," Tony replied. "Yeah, thanks for doing that." "You know I'm going to end up just dismissing this bullshit, right?" My laughter sounded forced and hollow even to my ears. We talked for a few more minutes. I thanked the district attorney again and hung up. Calling in this favor was inevitable. Hope really had worked out a decent deal. Any other guy should have taken it, but once I reached out to Tony, I knew it would go away, which in my original plan would have looked really good for Hope. Unfortunately some fucking Vipers had gotten in my goddamn way, fucking up everything—probably beyond repair. My fist slammed into the dashboard, but I barely registered the impact. Fuck! "Prez, what if she works for the Vipers too? She could be passing them intel about us, and that's why they were there," Wrath questioned after I'd given the inner circle a carefully crafted version of the story. "No." I shut that line of thinking down immediately. While in our world, that type of scenario wasn't uncommon, that was not the case with Hope. I felt it in my bones. She barely knew anything about the criminal underworld. No one could fake that kind of innocence. Wrath was my sergeant-at-arms for a reason. It was his job to protect the club, which meant he would always be the one to bring up questions no one else liked or had the balls to ask. It might not be fair, but I didn’t happen to appreciate those qualities at the moment. "No fucking way," Bricks added with a glare at Wrath, then not so surprisingly at me. He'd been giving me dirty looks ever since he heard about what went down in the courtroom. He had a soft spot for Hope after she'd helped him with his kids, which I understood, so I let his attitude slide. For now. "This mean I gotta hire a new attorney next time my ex gets a wild hair up her ass about something?" I cocked my head in my "What are you—stupid?" way. "Fucking Vipers," Bricks muttered. At least his anger was directed in the right

location. I hadn’t relished the thought of kicking his fucking ass on top of everything else. Admitting to my brothers that I’d been on Hope’s street left me feeling exposed. From the look on their faces, no one knew what to make of my little obsession with her. Somehow I’d managed to keep to myself the precise amount of time I’d spent on Evergreen Lane. Good thing, because no one had bought my lame "just looking out for an asset" excuse. I’d never set foot on Glassman’s street in the ten or so years he’d been working for us, and everyone in the room knew it. No one dared question me out in the open, though. That’s not how things worked. "So do we need to put this to a vote?" I asked with the intention of getting our meeting back on track. "Fuck, no," Zero answered right away. "Let’s do it anyway," Wrath, ever the voice of reason where the by-laws were concerned, stated. I looked at each of my men before putting the proposition out in the air. "We take out the two Vipers I saw on Hope’s street and any others who know about her." Everyone raised a hand in the affirmative. "We need to do it stealthily, so no fucking heat blows back on us, boss," Teller said after everyone had put their hands down. "No shit, Einstein," Wrath growled. "Fuck you." Teller flipped him the bird. "Simmer the fuck down. Both of you," I snapped. "We need a plan." "Think you’ll recognize the two again?" Zero asked. "Fuck, yeah. I’ll recognize their bikes, at least." I never forgot a bike. "Let’s get to work." Zero slammed his hand on the table, and the meeting broke. Wrath made his way over to me. I could see the questions written all over his face. He never knew when to keep his damn mouth shut. It was his best and worst quality. "I’m a little concerned, prez. What the fuck were you really doing out there by yourself? If you were worried about her safety, you should have had me go with you." Yeah, just what I would have needed on my little stalking adventures. "None of your fucking business." "You fucking her? Thought you said she was married." My jaw clenched so tight, my teeth ached. "She is, and no, I was not fucking her. Let it go." There were times when I wished my enforcer wasn’t so damn perceptive. Now was one of those times. Taking rival members to ground was serious business, so I understood his concern. I didn’t hold it against him. Much. He held my gaze for a few more beats before looking at the table. "Let’s get it done," he said and walked away.

Putting Rock out of my mind didn't come easily. I fantasized about storming into Crystal Ball and chewing him out in front of everyone. I imagined visiting him in prison and laughing in his too-sexy-for-words face. I’ll admit there were a few dreams where I got on the back of his bike, wrapped my arms around him, and we rode away from everything. I even dreamed of some sort of angry make-up sex on my conference room table. I’m not proud of that one. Telling my husband a quick and dirty version of the story hadn’t earned a lot of sympathy. Not that I expected it to. This kind of thing happened all the time. It was business. Not personal. Except I took everything personally, which Clay knew. He tried to cheer me up. The guilt came in waves because deep down I knew there was a part of me that was upset because I would never see Rochlan North again. I stuffed that shame deep at the bottom of my wounded heart. In the end, I packed up his entire file and shipped it off to Glassman as soon as the request came in. I also cut a check for the rest of the retainer I hadn't earned and sent it off to Rock. It came back with a note saying, "You earned it." What. An. Asshole. Damn fucking right I earned that money. I earned it with my kindness and hard work. I’d earned it with my reputation that he’d nearly destroyed. I cashed that goddamn check and used the money to pay off one of my smaller student loans. Fuck Rochlan North. I was distressed and enraged. That hurt and anger pulled me away from criminal practice and back into my family court work. No way did I want to deal with more assholes like Rock. When I picked up a call from a guy who said Rock had recommended me to him one afternoon, my rage came roaring back to the surface. "Must have been a while ago. We have since severed our relationship," I answered with as much ice in my voice as I could muster. I did not want to have anything to do with anyone connected to Rock. "I'm not accepting new clients at this time." "Oh, okay. Sorry. Do you know who his attorney is?" "Robert Glassman," I gritted out. As if that assclown needed more money. "Thanks, chica." Another asshole. I’m sure he’ll get along great with Mr. Glassman.

6

A fter

Rock’s cruel dismissal, eventually I set my outrage aside and moved forward. My practice bounced back. Maybe it had never suffered, and it was only in my head. I stayed away from criminal work. Since I didn't bother to read the paper or watch the news unless I needed to, I had no idea the area had broken out into a gang war. Even when I did finally hear about it, I paid little attention. What finally did catch my attention was the shooting of Robert Glassman. The news attributed it to a mugging, but I couldn't help but think about Rock. In the back of my mind, I also wondered about the phone call I had gotten after Rock humiliated me in court. Were the events related? I had no idea. But something told me ending my association with Rock and his motorcycle "club" had probably been best for my health, no matter how much it had hurt at the time. The incessant buzzing of my cell phone interrupted my musings. I didn't recognize the number. Hopeful for a new client, I picked it up right away. "Hello?" "Ah, is this Hope?" "Yes." "Hope. This is Mr. Richter." Clay's boss. A trickle of unease crept over my skin. It didn't have to be anything bad, though. Maybe he wanted to buy Clay a gift card for a job well done and wanted some suggestions. Maybe he had a speeding ticket he needed me to help him with. "Hi, Mr. Richter. How can I help you?" "Hope. Clay had…an accident. Can you come down to Empire Med?" Empire Medical Center was the nearest major hospital. All sorts of horrible images assaulted my head. Clay falling off a bridge. Clay getting hit by some inattentive driver. "Yes. I'll be there right away. Is he okay?" "I'll see you soon, Hope." He hung up without answering my question. The trickle of unease detonated into a violent wave of anxiety. Something was very, very wrong. Clay was only thirty-five. I knew there was a measure of risk in his job, but I also knew how meticulous and careful Clay was. His job was the only risk he took in his

whole life. He never smoked, didn’t drink or do drugs. Hell, we hardly ever ate red meat. His boss was probably overreacting. Afraid Clay's lawyer-wife would sue him. That reassured me a little. The whole trip to the hospital is still a blank. I drove there on autopilot, convinced that everything was okay. Clay was too young for anything bad to happen to him. We still had a lifetime of things we wanted to do together. A future that included traveling to exotic places, building our dream home. Maybe having children. My father died when I was thirteen. It was too cruel to think I could lose someone else I loved and needed before their time. The look on Mr. Richter's face told me I was so, so wrong. "No," I whispered as soon as I saw him. "Hope," he started. His voice held a helpless tone, completely at odds with his imposing stature. A ragged sob tore from my throat. My hand fluttered to my chest, rubbing in frantic circles. "Please, don't—" "Hope, I'm so sorry," he tried again. I rocked backwards, my arms snaked around my middle, trying to ward off the vomit slithering up the back of my throat. "No…" I moaned. "Hope, is there someone else I can call?" My mind completely blanked. For a few minutes, I saw nothing but black squares and circles behind my eyelids. "His sister, Lynn," I breathed out. We weren’t particularly close for some reason, but Lynn was his only family. She needed to be here. "Okay. Here, sit down, honey." His big hands guided me to a bench, where I dropped down and put my head between my knees. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a mistake. "Mr. Richter, are you sure?" I mumbled. He patted my back. "I'm sure, honey. The doctors will be here in a minute to talk to you. I'll help you make whatever arrangements you want. I know how unexpected…" His voice faded out. What were my last words to Clay? Why couldn't I remember? In the morning, I'd caught him getting out of the shower. We'd kissed and exchanged our plans for the day. Planned dinner. The normal mundane stuff. Had I told him I loved him? Why couldn't I remember if we'd said, "I love you?" I'd never say it again. Fresh tears blurred my vision, and I tried to catch my breath before facing the horror ahead of me. They let me see Clay. From that moment on, the reality set in with painful sharpness.

No mistake. My husband was dead. The doctor explained that a spasm of the coronary arteries was to blame and that there was no way to predict it. It didn't comfort me. He further explained that four to ten percent of heart attacks occur before age forty-five. That didn't make it any better either. Lynn exploded in a fit of rage as soon as the doctor left. "I told you over and over you needed to watch his diet better!" Too broken to respond, I turned and left the hospital. Numbness set in. I'd have to take care of things. Tomorrow. I just needed to sleep. I drove home in a fog. In a zombified stupor, I made my way into our room and crawled into bed. The tears started to flow the minute my cheek hit the pillow and I inhaled Clay's scent. He was gone.

By accident, I read the obituary for Hope's husband. I knew his first name, but I didn't realize she'd kept her maiden name. For some reason, the paper printed a picture of the two of them. Possibly an old engagement photo, I wasn't sure. Seeing her eyes and bright smile jump off the obituary page scared the fuck out of me. I almost never read the paper, and I'm still not sure why I did that day. Some would suggest fate, I guess. But as soon as I saw it and understood what had happened, I knew I needed to go to her. The beef with the Vipers had been settled. It had been a long, bloody year, but we'd come out the other side with an understanding in place. An understanding, and a lot less Vipers walking the planet, which didn’t bother me a lick. They'd made a mistake in going after civilians with loose connections to both the Wolf Knights and the Lost Kings. Hope wasn’t the first or last person outside of an MC they’d targeted. We may have been outlaws, but we also lived by a certain code. Setting their sights on people who had no clue they were even in a war and therefore had no chance to defend themselves garnered them no respect or mercy. In the end, the old, original Vipers had come and begged the Lost Kings and the Wolf Knights to help them rid their club of their new ruthless leaders, and we’d been more than happy to help—after negotiating some favorable terms for our respective MCs, of course. With this newfound peace, I was free to go back to my regular marijuana

trafficking and wink of the pink business. Hope still lingered in the back of my mind. I couldn't shake thoughts of her. No matter how many dancers or club girls I fucked, Hope’s face was the last one I saw when I closed my eyes at night. It annoyed me, angered me, then fueled me. I'd always told myself if I found a good woman—a sweet, honest, intelligent, loyal woman—I would stop fucking around and settle down with her. Unfortunately when I found the perfect woman, she was already married to someone else. Of course I'd never find what I needed hanging around my MC or at Crystal Ball, and I wasn't sure why that was or what to do about it. Although I was a bastard, a criminal, and pretty damn crude at times, I respected Hope enough to leave her alone. Surely another perfect woman waited out there for me. One who understood my lifestyle and the role of the MC in my life. That was the one thing Hope did not have. Her identity was wrapped up working within the confines of the law. Mine existed mostly outside of the law. If I could tear myself away from my insane fantasies, it would be clear that a relationship between us could never have worked anyway. Then suddenly, Hope wasn't married anymore. I honestly took no pleasure in her husband's death. I couldn't imagine how painful it must be for her to be widowed so young. The obituary didn't give a lot of details, but it sounded healthrelated. Inconsiderate prick that I was, I straddled my motorcycle and headed to her house. Cars lined the driveway and both sides of the street. I backed my bike into a spot and walked up the long driveway. People stood around outside chatting. I followed the noise to the back of the house. Three women stood clustered together. The tallest one sniffled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "My baby brother. I told her so many times to take better care of him. But she's always, ugh. They didn't even—I'll never be an aunt now." The woman started wailing, while her friends consoled her. It didn't take a genius to know she must be Hope's sister-in-law. The tone she used when speaking about Hope really pissed me off. Her "baby brother" was a grown-ass man. Clearly his sister had some misplaced grief, but putting it all on the widow's shoulders was some fucking bullshit. Ignoring the drama queen, I shouldered my way through the crowd. Even though I'd left my cut outside and long sleeves covered the majority of my ink, people moved out of my way. I guess I’d perfected the sort of demeanor that said "move or else." Maneuvering through the house, I realized how little I knew about Hope. Throughout my obsession with her, I'd never stopped to consider who she was as a person. I'd pinned a whole lot of fantasies on my idea of her based on the little I did know. The kitchen was covered in food items people had obviously brought with them, but, the bright splashes of color and number of unidentifiable appliances had me wondering if Hope enjoyed cooking. Photographs lined the walls of the short hallway. She and her husband had liked

to travel. I imagined how painful it would be for Hope to pass these photos every day from now on and wondered if anyone here would do her the kindness of taking them down and putting them away. At the end of the hall, a door stood open and I poked my head inside. Soft sniffling sounds came from the dark. When my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I recognized Hope's crumpled form on the bed. Afraid of startling her, I called out, "Hey." She mumbled what sounded like a greeting but didn't sit up. I crept into the room, feeling like a lowlife. We hadn't exactly parted on good terms, and here I was invading her space at what had to be the worst moment of her life. As I approached the bed, I took in the bright orange comforter. Since the day we met, I'd pictured fucking Hope in many different places: over my desk, up against the wall in my office, on the back of my bike, in the shower, on the kitchen counter at my house, in my bed at the MC. But I'd never once pictured what her house or bedroom might be like. Probably because I knew she shared it with another man. None of that crossed my mind as I crept up to her. No, instead I had inane thoughts about how I never pictured her in orange bedding. A regular fucking Martha Stewart, aren’t I? Sheer, black stockings covered her legs, leaving the pale soles of her feet visible through the dark, silky fabric. It seemed like such an odd, intimate piece of her to notice. It’s not like I suffered from some foot fetish. I clenched my fists to avoid running my hand up her leg. I genuinely wanted to comfort her, not perv all over her. "Hope, honey, I'm so sorry." She bolted upright at the sound of my voice. Her hands fluttered over her face, wiping away stray tears. I plucked a tissue off the nightstand and handed it to her. Wide, green eyes stared up at me. Still as beautiful as I remembered. "Rochlan? What are you doing here?" Her raw voice using my full name twisted my insides. How had I survived the last year without her in my life? I breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t start screaming at the sight of me or smash a lamp over my head. "I heard about your husband…about Clay, and wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m so sorry, Hope." She scooted back on the mattress a bit then settled back down, snuggling into the pillows. "I'm just peachy," she mumbled. I eyed the extra few inches as an invitation to sit down next to her, so I did. My hand found its way to the middle of her back and moved over the soft fabric of her dress in what I intended to be soothing circles. "I can't believe you're here," she said after a few minutes of silence. "It's been a year since you disgraced me and tried to destroy my career. Now you're in my bedroom the day I buried my husband." Her voice never rose above a rough whisper, but the words wounded just the same.

"Hope, now isn’t the time to explain, but please believe me when I tell you I had a very good reason for doing what I did." "Does it have anything to do with Glassman getting shot?" I'd forgotten how fucking sharp she was. "Yes." "So, are you putting me in danger by being here now?" "No. God, no." "Knock-knock." A husky feminine voice came from the doorway. I turned to see the visitor. A slender brunette with striking blue eyes stepped into the room. Beautiful eyes that narrowed with suspicion as she took me in. "Everything okay in here? Hope?" "Sophie?" Like the jackass I was, my eyes skimmed over the woman's tight black dress, appreciating her wispy curves. As she took in my hand on Hope's back, her delicate features screwed up in a tight scowl. I unfolded myself from the bed and stood against the wall closest to the bed. Sophie sat down next to Hope, still eying me with caution. Hope reached out and wrapped her hand around her friend's. "Thank you for everything." "You're welcome, sweetie. Are you sure you don't want to come stay at my place for a few days? I have to fly out Monday, but my brother will be around if you need something." "No, I'm okay. My mom and stepdad are going to stick around for a couple days. I appreciate it, though." "Well, after they go, come by if you want. Call me at any time." Hope nodded then asked, "How's your rock star?" Sophie snorted. "Away. We're almost never in the same place at the same time. But we can talk about that later, buttercup." "No, I need to take my mind off things." "Why don't you introduce me to your friend?" Sophie angled her head in my direction. Hope glanced at me and waved her hand in the air. "Rochlan North, this is one of my best friends, Sophia Alfani." I raised my hand in hello. "Oh! This is Rock?" She cocked her head and took me in through narrowed eyes. She'd definitely heard about me. Interesting. Although the look on her face told me whatever she knew didn’t flatter me. "Did Lynn leave yet?" Hope asked, changing the subject. Sophie dragged her penetrating gaze away from me with obvious reluctance. "No. I'm sorry, but she's being a complete bitch too." "That the one wailing about how she'll never be an aunt?" I asked. Sophie rolled her eyes. "Jesus," she muttered under her breath. "I understand. They were all they had left. I just wish…" her voice trailed off. "Hey, Mara and her judge stopped by."

Hope actually let out a giggle, and even though she had no clue, Sophie earned my undying devotion that instant for doing something to cheer Hope up. "I can't believe Judge Oak was in my house. He scares the pants off me." Sophie chuckled. "She wanted me to tell you if you need her to cover any of your cases to let her know. If she can't cover it, she said Ross or Beth can. Adam said he'll go through all your files, so don't worry about that. You know I'd help you too. I'm just never here." "No, you've already been a big help. Thank you." "All right, I have to get going." Sophie lifted her gaze to me, but her next question was directed at Hope. "You sure you're okay here?" Hope opened her eyes, meeting mine. "Yeah, I’ll be okay."

After Sophie left, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Rock shifted away from the wall. For the first time since I’d met the big, scary biker, he looked uncertain. Nope. Hadn’t lost my mind. Rock was actually here. In my bedroom. I was sure any minute now Lynn would stick her nose in the room and blow a gasket. The walls pulsed and closed in around me. Pulling in air became a struggle. Why had I let Lynn talk me into hosting all these people in my house? I couldn’t handle the additional stress. Entertaining made me nervous on a good day. Today, all I could think about was Clay. I wanted to make him proud, but I was failing miserably, which was why I decided to give up and lie down on our bed. Then Rock showed up. To see if I needed anything. After what he’d done, I figured I’d never see him again. Figured he hated me for some reason I’d never understand. How could I anticipate he’d care enough about me to not only learn about my husband’s death, but to find out where I lived and to come see me? It made no sense. Maybe I was hallucinating? "You okay, doll?" The bed dipped as Rock sat next to me. His big, warm hand rubbed over my back in a soothing motion, and I leaned into his touch. Nope. He felt much too solid to be a figment of my imagination. An idea popped into my head, and I grasped his other hand. "Did you bring your bike?" He didn't hesitate before answering, "Yes." "Would you take me for a ride?"

He cocked his head to the side, watching me with hooded eyes. "You need to get out of here for a few?" "Please." This was crazy and all wrong. I knew it deep down. But I just wanted the pain to stop, if even for a few inappropriate seconds.

I’d never been sentimental, but Hope’s simple request, coupled with the bereft look on her face, left scratches on my heart. I didn't know if having her family see her ride off with some strange guy was the best idea, but I couldn't say no to her. "You can't ride in that, though." I nodded to her dress. "Okay." She stood and crossed the room to flip the lights on. I took in everything. Lots of smooth, gleaming wood furniture. Two dressers stood against opposite walls. One looked like a tornado had blown through, the other neat and orderly. The awkwardness of sitting on the bed she'd shared with her husband sunk in, so I stood. Not sure what to do, I offered to leave so she could change in private. "No, please stay?" She shut the door and locked it, then ambled toward one of the doors facing the bed. Looked like an explosion of clothes inside a modest walkin closet. She shut herself inside, and I cursed myself for imagining her naked on the other side. After a few minutes, she emerged in a pair of dark jeans and a loose blouse in swirls of black, green, and blue. Her long hair flowed free around her shoulders. I took in her bare feet. "You got a pair of boots with a small heel?" She nodded and stepped back into the closet, this time leaving the door open. A few thumps and shuffling noises later, she surprised the hell out of me by coming out in a pair of knee-high black leather boots adorned with silver studs. It seemed Hope had an inner bad girl I knew nothing about. She shrugged into a form-fitting black leather jacket and looked up at me questioningly. My mouth watered at the sight of her. I cleared my throat. "That'll do." She walked me through the house, stopping to speak to her mother for a few seconds. Even though the woman eyed me with suspicion, Hope didn’t bother introducing me, and I didn’t take offense. She ignored her sister-in-law altogether, which made me proud of her. We left through the front door. For some ridiculous reason, I wanted to take her hand as we walked through the grass and onto the driveway. Like the decent guy I wanted to be, I kept my hands to myself. I didn’t need to tell her the bike at the end of her driveway belonged to me. She knew because no one else in her life rode a

bike. Only one on the street. "I've never been on a motorcycle before," she said softly. That didn’t surprise me at all.

I kept staring at Rock's bike. I was terrified of motorcycles. Or at least I used to be. I didn't know what I was anymore. A big, hard ball of pain surrounded by bone and flesh. Animated, but barely. That's all I was in that moment. Numb, but hurting. Awake, but unaware. The agony was physical and relentless. I wanted to claw my way out of my own body. I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. Rock regarded me with a soft expression. I expected him to snort when I told him I'd never been on a bike before, but just as he’d been in the house, he was sweet and understanding. "It's easy, doll. I'll get on first." He bent over and folded down a peg on either side at the back of the bike. "These are the passenger footpegs. Once you're on, plant your feet there, and keep 'em there. You don't want to come into contact with the rear wheel or anything else. These are the exhaust pipes. They get hot. Do not touch them with any part of your body." He took out a helmet and adjusted it, then placed it over my head, fastening it, then checking to make sure it stayed put. "Where's yours?" I asked. "You're wearing it, doll." "Rock—" "We'll be fine. You got a lot more important information in that pretty little head than I got in mine." He tapped the top of the helmet twice for emphasis. I couldn’t help but smile, and the corners of Rock's mouth turned up in response. He extended his leg over the bike and sat in one graceful move that I instantly envied. From his pocket, he unfolded a pair of sunglasses and slipped them on. Looking back at me, he continued explaining what I thought would be a simple process. "Put your hand on my shoulder, then swing your leg over the seat. Slide gently up onto the bike. Once you're on, put your feet on the pegs. Even when I stop, you keep your feet on those pegs where they'll be safe." He stopped and cleared his throat. Sitting on the bike was more comfortable than I expected, at least at first. There was a small bit of space between us, and I struggled to maintain it. "Doll, you're going to need to get a little closer than that." Oh.

I let gravity do its job until my thighs snuggled up against him. "You can place your hands on my hips or wrap them around my waist to hold on. It will keep you in touch with my movements. Keep your weight centered over the bike. Don't move around a lot. Lean when and where I lean, okay?" "Okay." Nothing happened for a moment, and I realized my hands were still resting at my side. I settled them on his hips. Absently, my hands slid over the smooth material of his Henley. Satisfied, he twisted the handle and the bike roared to life. My heart fluttered, and I opened my mouth to tell him I’d made a mistake when he rocketed down the street. We were probably going slow, but it felt crazy fast to me. I squealed and wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him tight. When we reached the end of my street, he stopped at the sign and put his feet down. His words sailed through my head, and I remembered at the last second to keep my feet on the pegs. "You okay?" he shouted over the rumbling engine. "I think so." "Wanna go up to Fletcher Park?" Tears stung my eyes hearing that name. "No. Please. Anywhere but there." Clay proposed to me at Fletcher Park, and the thought of even a glimpse of the gazebo where he’d sat me down and gotten on one knee tightened my chest. A stab of guilt poked through. What the hell was I doing on the back of this man’s bike on the day of my husband’s funeral?

7

I t may have been under the worst possible circumstances, but I had her. Hope was

on the back of my bike. Willingly. I couldn't fuck this up. I wanted to talk to her. Explain why I acted like such an asshole last year. But then she slipped her arms around my middle, rested her chin on my shoulder, and my mind was wiped clean of all thought. Sure, I remembered how to turn the key and twist the throttle, but once the wind whipped around us, it was too late for words. Her reaction to my suggestion of Fletcher Park surprised me. It's a popular scenic park with a gorgeous spot to overlook the entire three-county area. From her frantic refusal, I assumed it had something to do with her husband. I wondered if she'd tell me one day. As we wound down the open county roads, I figured out where I wanted to take her. It was odd. Probably inappropriate. But I didn't care. For some reason, I wanted her there. Although the MC owns two businesses in the city, they're completely legit. Our clubhouse or conference center, as we sometimes jokingly called it, is out in the country. Nestled deep in the woods, it's not easy to find unless you know where you're going, which was our intention when we bought the property a few years back from a bunch of Hippie-Buddhists who had gotten into a little trouble with the IRS. Technically, a corporation with some flowery sounding name owns the land and buildings the club is situated on. Believe it or not, bikers have a sense of humor. As I slowed the bike down, Hope lifted her head. Other than molding herself to my back, which was a bit distracting, she'd been a perfect passenger. She made no sounds, though, and that had me worried. For a first timer, I expected some squeals or a sharp intake of breath. Something. But she was silent the whole way. The bike took the transition from highway to gravel easily. Thanks to the little sensor on the handle bars, the tall, metal gates swung open as we approached. They'd shut behind us once we we were safely inside. Without that sensor, we would have had to wait for someone up in the center to realize we were out here or punch in a code in the panel next to the gate. I sensed Hope's confusion and could only imagine the questions she'd have when we stopped. The property was long and narrow at the bottom. Inside the gate,

a massive Buddha garden statue greeted everyone. He's surrounded by low stone benches. Prettily landscaped flowers surrounded the big meditating man. He was there when we moved in, and no one wanted to move him. Club girls or prospects kept him nicely groomed. A long line of pine trees lined both sides of the driveway. Glimpses of other smaller statues and rock gardens could be seen through the trees. After the last hill, the land flattened out and the clubhouse came into view. The driveway circled around to the back of the building. This place used to function as a conference center, but it fit all our various and complex needs. Clubhouse, meeting rooms, bedrooms, kitchen, bathrooms, gym, a very large, private basement that we used as a grow house. To the left sat our crown jewel—an enormous, heated garage. Because what else are bikers going to do all winter, except tear down our motorcycles, and make all the repairs, modifications, and upgrades we've been planning the whole riding season? The minute I shut the bike off, one of the club prospects ran out of the garage to meet us. He had to be in his second year of prospecting, or he wouldn't be allowed up here. Every time I saw the kid, he reminded me of Howdy Doody, but I kept that to myself because apparently I'm old and no one else knew who that was. "Should I get off first?" Hope asked. Several answers came to mind, one of which was "hell, yeah." I managed to restrain my inner asshole and answered her with the respect she deserved. "Yup, just reverse what you did to get on. Steady yourself on my shoulder." Without having to tell him, the prospect came over and helped Hope off the bike, then disappeared back into the garage. Quiet, but useful—just how how a prospect should act. Hope scrunched up her face in pain and rubbed her hands down the front of her jeans. "My thighs burn." I swear. I wanted to be a gentleman, but she was killing me.

I wasn't sure where Rock had taken me. What I saw on our ride took my breath away. But where we ended up looked like some sort of sophisticated camp where people came to spend the weekend meditating and practicing yoga. Glancing up, I noticed the garage where the orange-haired kid ducked back into after helping me off the bike. It was filled with bikes in various stages of repair and disrepair. Several classic cars, a jeep, and a truck also took up space in there from what I saw. Three or four bikes were lined up against the back stone wall facing out. Rock got off his bike and opened a compartment to take out his leather vest, shrugging it on.

I hadn't seen him wearing that vest in a long time, and the sight of it did something to my insides that I chose to ignore. He held out his hand to me, and I took it without hesitating. As he led me inside, the massive Lost Kings mural that greeted us shocked me. It was the same design that adorned the backs of his the vests he and his friends wore. A skull with an elaborate crown sitting on top of a garland of red roses with Lost Kings MC spelled out underneath took up an entire wall. My feet stopped moving as I stared at its shocking beauty. "Like it? Bricks did it." "Wow, it's really something. He's very talented." On closer inspection, it was more detailed and embellished than the back patches, but the idea was the same. No one sat behind what I guessed used to serve as a front desk area. It seemed to serve as some sort of biker bar, because bottles of liquor lined the shelves behind it. One hallway extended down the left side of the building. There were chairs, tables, couches, and a large screen television taking up the open front room. A wide staircase off to the left, across from the front desk, invited further exploration. "Want a tour?" Rock asked, after studying my face for a moment. "Sure." He tugged me down the first hallway, pointing things out as we passed them. "Storage closet, bathroom, yoga studio." My feet stopped at that last one. Rock gave me a lopsided grin. "Well, it was a yoga studio. It's more of a private dance room now." I knew he owned a strip club, so the room didn't require more explanation, but he threw open the door anyway. Indeed, someone had installed a shiny silver pole in the middle of the room. Two walls were covered with floor to ceiling mirrors, and the back wall consisted almost entirely of a wide, cushioned bench. I was both disgusted and intrigued by what must go on in there. I spied a glass jar filled with condoms on a table inside the door. Rock's eyebrows shot up and he smiled at me sheepishly before closing the door. At the end of the hall, another hallway extended to my right. "There’s a gym, bedroom, and laundry room down that way." In front of us was a huge kitchen and dining room area. There was one large table that could easily accommodate twenty people and several smaller tables. An empty buffet area sat close to the open kitchen door. As I turned, I saw a fully stocked bar running the length of the front wall. A door in the kitchen led to the outside, making it easy to bring in food and drinks without traipsing through the entire building. "Are you hungry?" I shook my head and dropped Rock's hand so I could take everything in. More skull and crown murals adorned this room. The one behind the bar was fitted with angel wings as well as red roses. Rock walked up behind me and slipped his hands over my shoulders. "Ready for the rest of the tour?"

"Sure." He led me back down the hall and into the main area. We passed the steps and headed to the door that sat in the middle of the wall. Whatever was behind the specially carved, solid wood door must be special. "Want to see the boardroom? Girls aren’t allowed inside, but I'll give you a peek," Rock teased. I wanted to be offended, but curiosity kept my mouth shut as I let him lead me inside. It was indeed set up like a boardroom. Or a biker's idea of a boardroom: large, battle-scarred wooden table, worn leather executive chairs. The chair at the head of the table looked more like a throne and had the word "President" carved across the top. I raised an eyebrow at Rock, and he shrugged. "The last president's idea. The whole king/throne thing." Oh, yeah. That made sense, I guessed. On the opposite side from his "throne," a black leather sectional and big screen television took up the space at the end of the room. He backed me out of the room and took me to the next door. "The other officers and I share this workspace. It’s nothing special." After that, we walked over to the staircase, and I followed him up. The first landing was wide enough to accommodate a vintage motorcycle. Photographs of the club throughout the years lined the wall. I tried to pick out Rock's face to determine how long he'd been a member, but we passed by too quickly. One day, I'd like to sit and study all these photos. Don't ask me why. Instead of room numbers, there were words or names outside each room. "Free" for the rooms near the staircase. There was also a large dorm-like bathroom at the left end of the hallway. A small laundry room was situated next to the bathroom, and absently, I mused that whoever thought of that was pretty smart to avoid lugging loads of laundry up and down the stairs. Rock led me to the right. At this end, the signs changed from "Free" to words like Guest, Family, Road Captain, Treasurer, Vice President, Sergeant-at-Arms, and at the very end of the hall, President. I noted the last five doors had deadbolts. Rock pulled out a key and opened his door. I should have been nervous. I should have been feeling some sense of wrongness at entering what essentially amounted to Rock's bedroom. But only curiosity pulled me along. Would his room be some disgusting, perverted man-cave or an elegant gentleman's oasis? It was neither. Or maybe a little of both. A king-size bed dominated the far wall. It was covered in black bedding. Black comforter, black, white, and gray sheets with a dainty scroll pattern, then more black pillows scattered on top. Drawers were built into the bottom of the bed frame. He had one dresser and a large flat screen television taking up one wall. A door to my right appeared to lead to a bathroom. A trunk sat at the foot of the bed. Some oddly shaped furniture scattered in front of the television—what I thought were video gaming chairs, but may very well have been some sort of sophisticated sex furniture, for all I knew.

"Do you live here?" "No, but I spend a lot of time here." "It's nice." How many women have joined him in that bed?

It took a lot of self-control to lead Hope out of my bedroom. I couldn't even come up with a good reason for bringing her in there. It didn't seem to bother her, though. If anything, she seemed a little too fascinated. "I should head back. My family will wonder what happened to me." I knew she was right, but I didn't want her to leave. Things were so complicated for her, I didn't know when I'd be able to see her again. "Of course." Thinking it was better not to prolong the agony, I took the shortest route to her house. It was almost dark, and I concentrated on avoiding any suicidal deer that might decide to hop in the middle of the road. Red lights and sirens broke up our peaceful ride. I swallowed a string of curses. For a moment, I considered trying to outrun the sheriff—just for fun—but not with Hope at my back. I pulled over and felt her strain to keep her balance with the sharp braking. I set my feet down flat on the ground and kept my hands on the handlebars where the cop could see them. The soft crunch of gravel under his boots told me he was approaching us with caution. I continued to face forward, bracing myself for whatever he was about to accuse me of. "Evening, sir. Any idea why I pulled you over?" "Nah, why don't you just tell me?" I hated playing games with cops. "You're not wearing a helmet. New York has a helmet law, sir." Hope must have been worried I'd antagonize the cop some more. "It's my fault, officer. I asked him to take me for a ride on his bike unexpectedly, and he let me use his helmet." The cop turned his keen eyes to Hope, and his whole face broke into a smile. "I know you. You work with Barry Hansen sometimes, right?" Instant jealousy filled me at the sound of another man’s name in connection with my girl. "Yes," she answered. "He speaks very highly of you. Says you'll end up being a better lawyer than him." Hope's body tensed, but her voice came out firm and polite. "That's very nice to

hear. Thank you." He swung his gaze between Hope and me. "Okay. Since I can appreciate that you were just trying to keep the young lady safe, I'll let you go with a warning. But, look into getting an extra helmet, sir." Seemed like Hope's connections just got me out of a ticket. What irony. "Will do. Thank you," I said without choking. "Thanks, officer," Hope echoed. After checking she was secure behind me, I started up the bike and took off. The turn for her street came much too fast, and I fought the urge to keep on riding. Before I was ready to let her go, we were back in her driveway. Most of the cars were gone. "You can pull up to the house," Hope shouted. I didn't think it was the best idea, but I wasn't about to argue with her either. I shut the bike off as I pulled up to the back door. Hope got off and started fiddling with the helmet. I had to smother a smile as she struggled to figure out how to get it off. Finally, I rescued her and rested it in my lap. She shook her hair out, and I noticed she was wearing it a little shorter than last year. It was still as beautiful as I remembered, and I'd have given just about anything to run my fingers through it or wake up with my nose buried in it every damn day. "Thank you, Rock. Thank you for taking my mind off of things for a little while." Her lips quivered as she choked out the last few words, and my normally stone-cold heart broke for her. She had a painful road of grieving ahead of her, and there wasn't a lot I could do to help. I wanted something from her that I knew she couldn't give me at the moment. "Anytime, Hope. If you need anything, call me." I took out a card and scribbled my cell number on the back. I can’t put into words how much I wanted her to use it. When she was ready. She took the card, staring at it for a moment before slipping it into the front pocket of her jacket. "Thanks." Then she turned and headed into the house. One year. I decided right there in her driveway. One year to grieve. Then I was coming back to claim my woman.

8

Eight months later…

Slipping out of bed in the dark, I stare at the bedroom door for a while. My chest

still rises and falls with each heavy breath. A quick glance at the clock shows me it's three in the morning. I didn't really need to see the clock. The darkness surrounding me is so familiar by now I could have easily guessed the time. Every day is like being punished for living, while Clay is in the ground. I want to sleep. It's all I want to do. All day, every day. Sleeping takes me away from the misery of being alone. Stretching out my arm, I fumble with my bedside lamp. The damn thing looks pretty, but it's useless. It takes a few seconds for me to find the switch and click it on. With the weak glow, our bedroom comes into focus. I've barely set foot on "Clay's side" of the room since he died. I can't bear it. I lied to Sophie about my mother and stepfather sticking around to help me out. My mother hasn't been "motherly" in almost twenty years—she's not going to magically start now. All this grief belongs to me and I can't stand being a burden on anyone, not even my best friend. Clay's sister only stopped by to give me grief. Eventually she got bored and went away for good. While going through his things, I discovered he'd taken a very large life insurance policy out right after we got married. That, coupled with the large insurance policy payout from his employer because he died on the job, means I don't have to go back to work if I don't want to. After struggling for so long to be financially secure, the money is like some sort of cosmic joke. The fact that I came into it under the worst possible scenario is almost too tragic to think about. I crawl out of my grief stupor long enough to pay off Clay's car, sell off my old shitbox, and pay off the house and my student loans. After that, I have no obligations, so I am free to bury my head under the covers and let the world carry on without me. I pay the electric bill when they send me those fancy yellow notices that warn me they're going to shut the power off. The cable gets turned off, and I don't even notice for a few weeks. The car insurance and cell phone have been directly debited from our account for years. Not that it matters—I almost never

leave the house anymore. Friends call to check on me, but after a while they stop. Probably because I am rather unpleasant to talk to and not very good at returning calls. I decline every invitation, and eventually people stop bothering me. I'm so fucking angry. I'm pissed at Clay, but I can't be because it's not his fault. In fact, he made sure I'd be well taken care of in case something like this ever happened. Good thing, too, because I'm a mess. He knew me well. He knew how hard it had been for me as a teenager going from one rat-infested apartment to another because my mother couldn’t get her shit together after my father died. I swore I’d never live that way again, which is part of the reason Clay and I both worked so hard. One day bleeds into another, and before I realize it, weeks and weeks have gone by. I barely eat. I barely get out of bed. The pain is relentless. I almost wish I drank so I could dull the agony. I keep telling myself tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll do something. Go back to work? Buy some groceries? Wash my hair? Tomorrow I'll do something. I just don't know what that something is. For months, I exist like this. Then one afternoon, out of the blue, Sophie stops by. Dear, sweet, patient Sophie who just can't take a hint and leave me the fuck alone. The look on her face tells me how appalled she is by what she finds. "Oh, honey." I don't even care enough to be embarrassed. She cooks a simple dinner of spaghetti. It's the first real meal I've eaten in months. I know it's good because she’s a wonderful cook, but I barely taste anything. "Honey, you need to see a doctor." I grit my teeth and push my plate away. "I'm fine." She purses her lips but, bless her soul, doesn't push me any further. After her visit, I try a little harder. I pull myself out of bed each day before noon for an entire week. The first trip I make to the supermarket is loud, bright, and makes me want to curl up in a ball on the floor. As I drag the groceries into the empty house, I burst into tears.

I want to check on Hope, but I also know she needs space. One year. I said I’d give it a year, but it’s the longest damn year of my life. The MC lacks the excitement of the previous year. Earnings are good all around.

Even in a bad economy, or perhaps because of the bad economy, people are desperate for any escape. My clubs provide that escape for many people. For some ridiculous reason, I tell myself I'm not going to be with any other woman until I can be with Hope. I guess I want to see if I'm still cut out for monogamy? I don’t want to waste her time or mine if I can’t learn to control my dick. Besides, I peg her for the type of girl who would rip mine off if she ever caught me with another woman. There is this piece of me that demands if I can't have Hope, I won’t have anyone. I don't discuss my decision to only self love for the foreseeable future with any of my brothers because they'd probably strip my patch. This decision creates all sorts of new opportunities for me. Once my mind isn't clouded by an endless parade of available pussy, I find I have a lot of time to get shit done. I grow my custom bike business. I spend a lot of time training at Wrath’s gym punching things. It’s an oddly freeing feeling, to not have my dick make all the decisions for a change. My plan could be for nothing. For all I know, Hope’s out banging guys left and right to ease her pain. Except…I know her. She loves hard. The likelier scenario is she’s still reeling from her husband’s death. It’s part of why I want her so bad. The decent guy inside of me recognizes that a year may not be enough time for her to deal with her grief. I ignore that guy—he’s a dick. After asking around, I determine she hasn't gone back to work. She appears to be off the grid entirely. Oddly enough, I don't drive by her house anymore. I'm afraid I won't be able to stop myself from doing something stupid like knocking on the door. Or kidnapping her. I do have one of the prospects check on her from a distance to make sure she’s safe. Over the last six months or so, I’ve scaled back my role at Crystal Ball dramatically. Since I’ve imposed this bizarre vow of celibacy on myself, being surrounded by hot, naked, down-to-fuck chicks all the time is a hazard I don’t have patience for. But, there are things that need to be done, so I still spend time there once or twice a week. I choose the busiest nights because I figure there will be less downtime to give in to any temptation. An interesting guest comes into Crystal Ball one night. I almost don't recognize her at first. She's so fucking hot I think she must be here to audition for a job, but she and her boyfriend take a seat in the back corner of the club. Lots of couples come into Crystal Ball to add some spice to their relationship. Usually the woman is completely freaked out and nervous. Not this girl. She’s not catty toward the dancers either. She seems secure in her relationship. This isn’t some last-ditch effort to keep her man. It bugs me that she looks so familiar, though. Maybe they’ve been in here before, but, that doesn’t feel right. I’ve met her in a different situation. Then I realize it's Hope's friend, Sophie. My eyes scan the dude, and I realize he looks familiar too. How's your rock star? Hope’s words pop into my head, and now it's clear why he

looks familiar. He's the singer for a semi-famous rock band. Heck, some of the girls even dance to his songs from time to time. My feet are headed in their direction before my head knows what’s on the agenda. "Sophie, right?" She looks up, instant recognition crossing her face. She doesn’t smile, but she doesn’t tell me to fuck off either. It doesn’t dawn on me right away, but she’s not surprised to see me. She turns toward her boyfriend. "Jonny, this is a friend of Hope’s. Rock." Jonny nods but doesn’t offer to shake my hand, which is fine with me. "Hope’s in a bad place right now," Sophie says with no other niceties. This girl is no bullshit, a quality I appreciate. I pull a chair over and sit at their table. One of the waitresses—Willow, I think— sashays over to ask what I want. "Scotch neat, babe." I pull her close and whisper, "Whatever they’re drinking tonight is on the house, got it?" Her eyes dart to the couple and back to mine. "Sure, boss." After Willow drops off my drink, I tug her close again. "Have Lexi dance to ‘Hold On,’ okay?" Willow, bless her heart, looks confused but agrees. When she leaves, I nod at Sophie. "I imagine things are tough for Hope." "No. Not tough. She won’t get out of bed. She’s not eating. Won’t talk to any of her friends. I wanted to respect her wishes and give her time to grieve, but I finally muscled my way in to see her Friday, and she’s in a bad way." It’s distressing to hear this, but I’m not sure what Sophie expects me to do. I know what I want her to ask me to do, but I’m not about to suggest it first. "Where’s her family?" I ask. Sophie snorts out a laugh. "Her mother is useless. And you remember her sister-in-law?" Yeah, I remember the bitch wailing at the funeral as if everything revolved around her. "Okay, why are you telling me this?" Sophie tilts her head and pins me with a sharp but not unkind stare. "Don’t dick me around about this, okay? Do you care about Hope at all? If you don’t, just say so and I’ll figure something else out. No judgment." I flick a glance at Jonny. While his gaze is focused on the stage, I get the impression he’s still invested in our conversation. Fuck it. "Yes, I care about her. It kind of seems like an inappropriate time to do anything about it, though." She twirls a chunk of hair around her finger while she seems to contemplate what she wants to say next. "I’m not saying you need to proposition her or anything gross. Look, I know what you did for her after the funeral. Taking her mind off things for a little bit. I also know what went down between you two before

that." She pins me again with her perceptive blue eyes before shifting her gaze slightly to the right of me and raising her eyebrows. What she’s focused on is the hallway that leads to my office. So, apparently Hope told her about our encounter—the searing kiss that even a year and a half later I can’t get out of my fucking head. Jonny eyes my cut, specifically the President patch, and puts his hand over Sophie’s. "Babe," he warns. Shaking my head, I hold up my hand. "We’re good, man." The opening notes of "Hold On" blast through the speakers. Jonny lets out a groan and shakes his head. "Fuck," he mutters. Sophie bursts into a fit of giggles. I’m coiled so tight with tension I can’t stand the distraction, even though I caused it. We were close to something huge, and I need Sophie to focus on what she came here to do. "What’s on your mind, Sophie?" Ignoring her boyfriend’s discomfort, she leans toward me. "You’re right. It’s still too soon for her. But the one year anniversary is in a few months, and I don’t want her to be alone." Sophie’s pretty, red lips curl into a smile. Something is brewing in this chick’s head, and fuck if I don’t like how her mind works.

9

B less Sophie’s heart, but she’s relentless. Even though she travels for work a lot,

we manage to have dinner almost once a week. I sort of drift in and out in between her visits, but over time I begin to feel like myself again. Some days there is this gaping, empty hole in my heart, and I can’t figure out why. Then it hits me. Clay’s gone. A few months after Sophie first barged in my door, I find myself remembering this crazy, impromptu trip Clay and I took to Rhode Island one Labor Day weekend. My face actually pulls into a smile. Since we drove there on a whim, on a holiday, it took us hours to find a room. The one we finally found smelled like stale seawater, but we didn’t care. I unpack some of the photos I’d hidden away after the funeral. Remembering the story behind each one has me in tears. The buzz of my phone stirs me from my melancholy. I’ve started turning it on again. If I don’t and Sophie can’t reach me, she shows up on my doorstep. Or worse, when she’s out of town, she sends one of our friends or her brother to check on me. As a result, I’ve learned it’s easier to leave the damn thing turned on. When my friend Mara calls, she regales me with stories about her baby, Cora, that make me chuckle in a sad way. Clay and I hadn’t decided if we’d wanted kids yet. He would have been a wonderful father. Sophie is on the other end of the call. We chat about superficial things for a few minutes before she turns serious. "I know the one-year anniversary of his death is soon, sweetie." Closing my eyes, I suck in a deep breath. I’ve been dreading Thursday. "Yes," I breathe out. "Let me take you out to dinner. You shouldn’t be alone." "No." "Hope—" Even Sophie isn’t going to strong-arm me into changing my mind. "No. I appreciate it, Sophie, but I need to be alone that day." Even over the phone, I can tell she’s not happy with my answer. I take a deep breath. "But, why don’t we do happy hour on Friday?" The words come out in a

rush before I change my mind. "Okay! That’s great. Do you want me to come pick you up?" Although her office is about ten minutes from the bar we normally go to for happy hour, Sophie lives roughly forty-five minutes in the opposite direction. Asking her to drive out to get me and then drive me home seems rather obnoxious. "Nah, I’ll be okay." "If you change your mind, let me know." I do change my mind about fifty times before Friday night. Thursday is cold and dark. Seems fitting for sitting at the cemetery, which is exactly what I do. I have to circle the block five or six times before I find a parking spot in front of Hamilton’s. This is why I hate hanging out downtown so damn much. I’m flustered when I enter the bar, but as soon as I spot my friends hogging up their usual corner, I feel better. Afraid the greetings will be awkward, I cringe as my friend Ross stands up to give me his seat. But, he simply hugs me. "It’s good to see you, girl," he whispers against my hair. "You too." "Take my chair. I’m gonna chat with Brian." I sit, and Sophie reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. "I’m glad you made it." "Me too." And I realize I actually mean it. Lilly waves at me and gives me a big, warm smile. She’s the only non-lawyer at the table and one of the most fun people I’ve ever met. In small doses. She and Sophie have been friends forever, so I’ve naturally gotten to know Lilly pretty well over the years. Lilly is a knockout and crazy smart. She paid for graduate school by working as a stripper and has no regrets. She’s been on the prowl for a rich husband for as long as I’ve known her and makes no apologies for it. Her love of one-night stands and bad boys keeps getting in the way of her long-term goal to be a trophy wife. "We are getting pitchers of margaritas, baby!" Lilly shouts. "Mara is still nursing, so she’s DD." Mara flips Lilly off and leans over to give me a big hug. She looks fantastic, and I glance down at my hastily thrown on jeans and blouse. Since I’ve mostly lived on a diet of air and water this past year, I’ve lost a lot of weight. I didn’t notice until I tried to find something to wear tonight. My hair has also suffered. I haven’t been to a stylist in over a year. My bangs have long grown out, and the rest of it is long, wild, and messy. It seemed like a waste of time to bother with makeup, so I didn’t. Looking at my friends, I kind of wish I had put more effort into my appearance tonight. But, I’m actually here and that was a big step, so I mentally pat myself on the back, push aside my unease and try to join in the conversation. After my second margarita, I’m hammered. I never had a high tolerance for alcohol to begin with, so the two drinks hit me hard. We order food, and I actually find myself salivating at the thought of a plate of Hamilton’s famous loaded nachos. It’s the first time I’ve cared about food in so long it surprises me. The

alcohol has done its job.

The yuppie bar Zero and I are sitting in is exactly the type of place I normally avoid. Young urban professionals surround us with their obnoxious chatter until I want to put my fist through the wall. Z is amused I even stepped in the front door and is enjoying my suffering. The second I spot Hope walking over the threshold, it’s all worth it, though. She doesn’t notice us up on the second level, but I see her right away. I cringe at how skinny she’s gotten. Her creamy skin is pale, except for the dark rings under her eyes. Her clothes swallow her whole, and her normally lustrous hair hangs lank and messy. She’s still gorgeous, and I still want her so fucking bad I ache. One of the guys at Sophie’s table stands up and hugs her. Rubs her back, and whispers in her ear while he’s at it. My fists clench under the table seeing this guy all over my woman. But as I watch him go up to the bar and flirt with the bartender, I manage to unclench. "Your girl’s here now," Z says. "Yeah, she’s here." "Gonna go talk to her, or sit there like a stump all night drooling over her tight ass?" "Not yet." I flick my gaze at him. "And keep your eyes off her ass." He shrugs and drains his Corona. Sophie said she’d get Hope tipsy so I’d have an excuse to drive her home, and from what I can see, her plan is working a little too well. Seems my girl can’t hold her liquor worth a damn. We pay the bill but continue to sit there. Z has taken an interest in one of Hope’s friends, and since we don’t know her name yet, he just keeps referring to her as "Big Tits." Part of me hopes when we go downstairs in a little while, he says it to her face and she knees him in the nuts. After two margaritas, Hope is staring glassy-eyed out the front window. Sophie lifts her head and gives me a pointed look, and I take that as my cue to haul my ass down there. "Let’s go." We amble down the stairs, and I smother a grin at the way people can’t get out of our way fast enough. We’re easily the biggest guys in the bar and certainly the only ones wearing colors. This is the furthest place from a biker bar that I can imagine, and the clientele doesn’t know what to make of us. Since Hope’s back is to

me, Sophie waves us over with a wild swing of her arm. "Hey, Rock!" she shouts. Hope’s not the only one swimming in a tequila haze. As I get closer to their table, I spot Hope’s reflection in the window she’s facing. Her eyes widen as she sees me coming up behind her. She turns around and stares up at me with her rosy lips slightly parted. It’s a fight not to crush my mouth against hers and carry her out of the bar comic-book-villain style. For some inexplicable reason, she reaches up and extends her hand to me. Not in a handshake sort of way, but in a lifeline sort of way. The gesture floors me, and I stand there like an idiot for a couple beats before wrapping my fingers around hers. "What are you doing here?" Her breathy voice ripples over me. I can’t think of one good reason Z and I would ever set foot in this type of place, so I hesitate. "Just in the area and got hungry. How you doin’, Hope?" Z asks. Her eyes widen, and she cranes her neck to get a look at Z. I can’t remember if they’ve ever officially met, and I think even in her alcohol daze, Hope realizes that. "Who are your friends, Hope?" Big Tits asks. Hope shakes her head and turns toward her friends. "Rock, you've met Sophie, this is Lilly, Mara, and Ross is over at the bar. Guys, this is a former client of mine, Rock, and—" "Z," he adds helpfully. Hope’s eyes are glassy, her cheeks are flushed, and she sways slightly in her seat. "How much have you ladies had to drink?" I ask. Mara curls her lips in a smug smile. "I haven’t had a drop. These bitches are making me drive them all home." Z snorts. Sophie gives me a not-so-subtle wink. Time to shine. "Hope, I’m headed out in your direction. I can bring you home." "No, I can’t leave my car down here." "Doll, you can’t drive like this. I’ll have someone come get your car." "Where you headed, sugar?" Z directs the question to Lilly. I’ll admit, I’m mildly annoyed he didn’t use the other nickname for her. She looks like a firecracker. She cocks her head, and the corners of her mouth twist into a seductive smile. Z’s gonna have his hands full with this one. "You gonna give me a lift all the way up to Lake George?" she asks in a throaty voice. "Shit, I’m not driving all the way up there—I was gonna drop you off at Sophie’s," Mara grumbles. "I’ll take the drive," Z answers so fast it’s almost comical. "Sophie, you can stay in our guest room," Mara offers. "Yeah, sure," Sophie mutters. She’s busy watching Hope and me. "Oh, hellooo, gentlemen." The kid from the bar is back and looking Z and me over. Mara grabs his hand and tugs him toward her. "Ross, this is Rock and Z, Hope’s friends." He nods at us and leans down to whisper something in Mara’s ear, making her giggle. Time for the reason I came here. "Hope, do you want to head out now, or I can

come back and get you…" "No, I’m ready." She stands up, wobbling until I steady her. I pull Z to the side. "Before you get your dick wet, call Dex and have him bring a prospect down to grab Hope’s car. Bring it to the clubhouse, and tell him to leave the keys on my desk." His gaze slides over to Lilly, but he nods like a good little VP. "No problem." Curving my arm around Hope’s waist, I tug her out the door. No resistance at all. She tucks herself into my side and lets me lead her to my bike. "Think you’re okay to ride?" She sways a little and whispers, "I don’t know." "Feel like you’re going to be sick?" "No." "Well, if you do, tap me, okay?" She nods once. I dig out a helmet and strap her into it. She looks so fucking adorable, I want to kiss her senseless. When I strap on my own head gear, a faint smile drifts across her lips. "You got another one so we don’t get pulled over again?" My heart squeezes in my chest. "Yeah, doll, I did."

Somehow the night ends up with me riding on the back of Rock’s bike. How does he just keep showing up out of nowhere? With my brain still swimming in tequila, most of my attention is focused on holding on for dear life and not barfing. Rock promised he’d take care of my car. I trust him—trust mixed with a bit of "so drunk I don’t really care." Rock’s hard body keeps me warm. That and the hooded sweatshirt he slipped over my head before we took off. It’s worn, soft, and saturated with his scent. His firm stomach ripples under my hands as he guides us out of downtown. Uncurling my fists, I flatten my hands over his abs. The soft fabric of his T-shirt halts my exploration. Can I slip my hand under his shirt without being too obvious? Will he crash the bike if I do? He’s headed toward my house, but it’s the last place I want to go right now. He’ll drop me off. Maybe walk me to my door, and then who knows when I’ll ever see him again? "Rock?" I shout, hoping he can hear me over the wind. "You okay, doll? Need me to pull over?" Jeez, I’m such a pathetic mess. He thinks I need to puke. "I’m okay. Don’t take me home."

He doesn’t say anything, so I repeat my request. "I don’t want to go home!" I shout over the roar of the bike. "Where?" I hug him tighter with my thighs and arms. "Anywhere." We keep riding, and eventually I rest my chin on his shoulder and close my eyes. I don’t exactly fall asleep, because I don’t want to end up road pizza, but the buzz of the bike lulls me into a contented state. The bike comes to a stop. "Hope, you awake?" He’s backed the bike in against the wall. Across from us is his MC center, clubhouse, whatever. A shiver works its way through my belly. A picture of his bedroom flashes in my head. I don’t think I’m ready for this. "I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go this late at night," Rock explains. I loosen my grip around his middle and dismount. Rock kicks the stand down and gets off the bike. The parking lot is jammed with cars and more motorcycles. Throbbing music and happy voices can be heard all the way out here. He leads me inside by placing a hand at the base of my spine. The way he guides me with such confidence makes me feel safe and protected in a way I don’t think I’ve ever felt before. I’ve made such a big deal my entire life of being independent, I’ve never allowed anyone to shelter me. People shout greetings at Rock when we come in the door. A few guys nod at me. A lot of half-naked girls give me the stink-eye. I instantly feel out of place. For one thing, I’m over-dressed—by a lot. I’m not sure what Rock expects from me tonight. I’m not sure what I expect from myself. Rock leans down to speak in my ear. "Are you hungry?" I shake my head. What I am, is bone-weary tired. Rock brushes a strand of hair off my cheek, his fingers lingering. Without thinking, I lean into his touch and close my eyes. "Can’t hold your liquor, can you?" he asks in a low, teasing tone. There’s no point denying the obvious. "No." He takes my hand and tugs me toward the stairs. "Come on, you can sleep it off." Little butterflies wake and dance in my stomach, and it’s not just the alcohol that woke them up. The noise from downstairs fades as we leave the staircase. New sounds come alive. At least half of the rooms up here are being put to good use. We pass an open door, and I can’t help but stare at the two guys and girl inside. She’s riding one of the guys cowgirl style, while her lips are firmly wrapped around the cock of the man in front of her. Heat streaks through me at the sight. I’ve never seen anything so erotic up close. I’m excited but confused by my reaction. Rock notices I’ve stopped and takes a few steps back. "Would you fuckers learn to shut the damn door?" He growls, grabbing the knob and closing it for them. "Sorry, Hope." He takes my hand again, but stops to stare at me. My cheeks heat

up even more, and I know my face must be the same color as the inside of a watermelon. "Did you want to watch them, babe?" "N…No," I stutter. "Did you want to join them?" "Oh my gosh! No." He chuckles at my girlish response and tugs me down the hall to his room. It’s pretty much the same as I remember, except the sheets are red this time. I push down the memory of why I was here the last time. Clay’s funeral. Clay’s funeral. The words keep rattling around in my head. I can’t shake them loose or make it stop. I press my fingertips to my forehead, wishing for some internal silence. Rock’s voice breaks in. "Hope? Are you okay? Do you want to use the bathroom?" Once inside, I splash water on my face. Looking in the mirror is a damn horror show. My hair is ratted and wild. My cheeks are flushed, but the rest of my skin is disgustingly pale. I have deep, dark circles under my eyes. It’s been a long time since I bothered to look in a mirror and really see myself. Rock must think I’m pathetic. With all the beautiful, willing girls trolling around downstairs, why he’s wasting his time on a messy, drunken widow is beyond me. Maybe he’s just hoping I’ll pass out so he can march downstairs and get lucky. Can’t say I blame him. I almost smack him with the door when I open it. He’s waiting for me and helps me over to the bed. Gravity takes over, and my ass hits the mattress. My body tips over and my head sinks into a fluffy, detergent-scented pillow. Somewhere in my addled brain, my inner neurotic is telling me this is a bad idea and that I’m not being very safe or smart. But, the rest of me knows Rock would never hurt me. I’m already sliding down the well of consciousness when I feel him pick up one foot to slip off my boot and then the other. A warm, soft blanket pulls over me. Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go runs through my brain, but I can’t get my mouth to form the words. I’m so tired of being alone. Finally the words reach my tongue, and I force them out.

"Don’t go." Two simple words, but she whispers them with such aching sadness, my feet are nailed to the floor. I had no intention of leaving Hope alone. I’ve waited for this

moment since the day I met her. Of course, in my many fantasies she wasn’t passed out drunk. Or still grieving the loss of her husband. But, I’m not a particular guy. I’ll take my girl however I can get her. We can work out the details later. "I’m here, Hope." She doesn’t answer. Light snoring tells me she’s out. As quietly as I can, I get ready for bed. She’s on top of the covers, but I pulled a blanket over her. She should be warm enough. Without jostling her around, I slide into the opposite side of the bed and under the covers. I stare up at the ceiling just listening to her breathing beside me. What I really want to do is gather her in my arms, but I’m not sure how that would be received. I mean, in my head she belongs to me, but it’s not like she’s aware of my crazy claim on her. She whimpers and kicks in her sleep. Thinking she’ll settle down, I wait. When the whimpering turns to crying, I can’t take it. I roll over and pull her against my chest. With the blankets between us, she’s safe from all the lusty things I want to do to her. For now. The whimpering stops, and she goes back to light snoring. Eventually I find a comfortable spot and follow her to oblivion.

Even before I fully come awake, I know where I am. In Rock’s arms. I’m not sure how or when that happened, but I’m not alarmed about it. His familiar, comforting scent wafts over me. My stale clothes cling to me, and my mouth feels like I ate a kiwi, skin and all. I try wriggling out of his embrace, but his arms only band around me tighter. When the drumming in my head settles down, I squirm and wiggle until I’m facing him, and holy shit—am I stunned. Up close, with his face relaxed from sleep, he’s almost beautiful. My eyes linger on the stubble along his jaw, my hand itching to rub it. Then I realize there’s no reason I can’t. As I tug my arm free to do just that, my hand brushes against his warm stomach. It’s then I realize he’s bare from the waist up, and my tongue begs to dance over his skin. I’ve seen glimpses of his tattoos before, but never have I had such an up-close, unobstructed view, and I certainly had no idea about all the ink decorating his chest. Without thinking, my hand traces over the words curving just under his collarbone. Strength from Loyalty. My index finger skips down to the pirate ship covering his chest and most of his stomach. It’s large and very detailed down to the billowing sails, wood grain, and skull and crossbones flag. Rock’s warm hand circles my wrist, halting my exploration. "You’re tickling me, doll," he says in his husky, morning-rough voice.

"Sorry." The very idea of Rock being ticklish makes the corners of my mouth twitch. "I’ve just never seen tattoos like that up close." He rubs his hand over the hard slab of muscle masquerading as his stomach and glances down. "Your husband didn’t have any ink?" "God, no." I realize that sounded judgmental, which I didn’t mean. He cocks an eyebrow. "Do you have any?" "No." His lips turn up and his hand lifts, then stops mid-air. "One day I’ll tell you the stories behind each one." I like that, but I’m also curious right now. "What’s ‘strength from loyalty’?" "It’s a Lost Kings saying. If you’re loyal to the club, you’re unbreakable." I mull that over. "So everyone in the club has proved their loyalty in some way?" "You could say that. We have each other’s backs. I know any one of my brothers would throw down for me, and I’d do the same." "Throw down?" "Fuck with one of us, fuck with all of us." "That sounds dangerous." "It is," he says simply, and I’m not sure what to make of that. I let my gaze roam over his arms. His deliciously defined arms. "You still tired?" Startled that he caught me gaping at him again, I come up with a lame excuse. "Just checking to see how many women’s names you’ve got tattooed on you." He snorts at that. "None. My dad had the names of three different bitches inked on him by the time I was fourteen. Told myself I’d never make that mistake." My jaw drops at the way he says "bitches" but it doesn’t seem to faze him. Huh. Once I’m free, I roll out of bed and head for the bathroom. Inside, I glance at the shower longingly. How I wish some clean clothes would magically appear. I wash up the best I can. Waking up next to Rock left me feeling uneasy and off-balance. My stomach coils in knots. A little lower, a relentless throbbing makes it difficult to concentrate. It’s been so long, I'm not even sure my girly bits still work. Just like last night, Rock is waiting outside the bathroom door when I emerge. "I grabbed you some clothes from the lost and found box—they’re clean, don’t worry. Nothing fancy, but I figured you might want to shower or something." What he hands me appears to be black yoga pants and a skimpy pink tank top. They both smell clean, but I’m not sure I’ll be comfortable parading around in so little. I’ll do it though, because I’m touched by the sweetness of the gesture. "Thanks." "Take your time." I hurry through the shower so I can get back to Rock. He doesn’t have a lot in the way of beauty products anyway—some basic manly shower gel and a two-in-one type of shampoo I’d normally never stick in my hair. It doesn’t matter, though. Now that I’m here with him, I don’t want to waste a second, because I’m not sure when our time together will end. Glancing down, I notice my legs are a hairy mess.

It’s been awhile since I gave my appearance a second thought. I hesitate. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I plan to let Rock see my legs. Do I? Locating a razor and some shaving cream, I do a quick sweep. It’s not perfect, but at least should he happen to see my legs for some odd reason, he won’t have to call TMZ and tell them he located sasquatch either. Hopping out of the shower, I dry off in record time. The thought of putting my panties back on disgusts me, so I brave the tight, stretchy black pants without them. I can’t go without a bra, so I slip that on and then the tank top. The outfit leaves me feeling pretty naked, but since there’s no full-length mirror to tell me otherwise, I pretend I’m not walking around on display. I’ve hidden in here long enough. Rock’s sitting at the edge of his bed facing the bathroom when I exit. Unfortunately, he’s put on a shirt. I’d kind of been looking forward to exploring all that skin and ink. He just sits there staring, and my skin tingles under his gaze. Even though the room is warm, I shiver and quickly run my hands over my arms. "Shit, that’s not warm enough for you. You can borrow one of my shirts." He bolts off the bed and opens a dresser drawer. The edges of his frayed denim trail over his bare feet, and I can’t stop thinking that even his feet are sexy. "Here, doll." He hands me a blue shirt and sits back down on the bed. Ghosted gray lettering spells out LOKI across the front of the T-shirt. On the back is a grayed-out skull wearing a crown. "What, does your club sell merch?" He chokes out a laugh. "Yeah, something like that. It’s not always appropriate to wear our colors certain places, but we still want people to know who we are, so—" "Colors?" He draws a quick circle in the air over his chest. "The vest with patches," he explains. "Right. To let people know the whole 'fuck with one, fuck with all' thing?" He narrows his eyes and doesn’t answer right away. I didn’t intend to insult him, but I think maybe that’s exactly what I did. "Sorry," I say while slipping into the shirt. "Don’t be. I keep forgetting how innocent you are." An unladylike bit of laughter snorts out of me. "Innocent? You think I’m innocent?" His face softens. "I mean, you don’t know anything about MC life." I’m not sure what to say to that, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "What is this?" I could mean a hundred different things. More detail about his MC’s business, which I am ninety-nine percent sure is made up of illegal activities. Or the this that is the two of us here in his bedroom. Is he going to drop me off at my house later and it will be another year until I see him? Will he ever fucking kiss me again like he did that ridiculous day in his office at the Crystal Ball? Because right this second, I am so ready for another kiss from him. I don’t have to feel guilty about how much I want him anymore. That thought gives me pause. I should feel

guilty for wanting another man so soon after my husband’s death. Especially this man who I’d been attracted to even before Clay died. It’s so, so wrong. "Come here, Hope." Oh man—hearing him say my name liquefies my insides. I don’t think or hesitate to go to him. Because he’s so big and his bed is pretty high off the ground, we’re almost at eye level when I reach him. His firm hands settle on my hips and pull me between his knees. "This can be whatever you want it to be."

10

I ’m lying, of course.

What’s between us can only be one thing. Hope is mine. Permanently. Christ, it hit me like a fucking Mack truck when she came out of the bathroom, dressed in the skimpy pants that clung to her in a way that made it clear she wasn’t wearing any underwear. I’d been a bit of a dick bringing up that outfit, but I had no idea what size she wore, so I figured the stretchy pants should work no matter what. The tank top was the true dick move because I could have easily given her one of my shirts from the get-go. But, I was dying to see more of her. It’s stupid too, because the thing that amped me up more than anything was seeing her in my Tshirt, with my club’s logo in living color across her breasts. She nibbles on her bottom lip, then sets her hand on my shoulder. "This is nuts. We barely know each other, but somehow everything makes sense when you’re around." Her voice isn’t much more than a whisper, but every word pierces my soul. I can’t even express how good it feels to hear her say that, although I’m not deaf to the anxiety in her words either. Pulling her hand to my mouth, I press a kiss into her palm, then meet her eyes. "It doesn't matter how long we've known each other. I know you. I want you. Just be here with me. If that’s what you want." "What will people think? It's been barely a year," she says in a rush. I’m the wrong person to pose that question to. I’ve wanted to claim her since the second I laid eyes on her. Her marital status never mattered to me. I’m not a complete asshole. I am sorry for her loss, and I do recognize that if not for Clay’s untimely death, she wouldn’t be standing here asking me these questions. I take no pleasure from the situation either. But it is what it is. "I don't know what to tell you. I know you can't help overanalyzing everything. It’s your nature. But try not to. You'll never be happy if you're always trying to please other people's idea of what you should be." She nods and tips her head down shyly, so I tug her a little closer. Now I have her standing between my legs, and all I can think about is ripping every last piece of

fabric off her. My hands settle at her hips, and I feel her bones jutting out. She’s gotten painfully skinny this last year. I want to take her downstairs to the kitchen and feed her until those generous curves are back. The nervous look fluttering over her face has me worried I’ve gone too far. I pry my hands away from her hips. She’s still grieving. Still fragile. All those questions just proved that I have no business doing this. I shouldn’t have listened to her friend last night. My whole idea to wait a year and come claim her like some Neanderthal was fucking stupid. I want—no, I need—her to be ready for another relationship before we start anything. Because once I finally have her, I am never letting her go. Of that, I’m certain. It’s this goddamned self-imposed celibacy thing. I’m wound up so tight I could blow at any second. "Are you okay?" I manage to ask. She steps in closer until her knees knock into the side of the mattress. Her breasts are at chin level, and I resist sinking my face into them. Although, as I flick my eyes up to her face, I catch a hungry look that makes me think maybe I’m wrong. I’m the one who is overanalyzing things. Maybe she wants this too. My hands find their way back to her hips. Her lips part, but no words come out. She’s struggling and frustrated. It finally dawns on me that she needs me to make the first move. I forget that she’s nothing like other women I’ve known, and I relish the idea of being the one in charge. Every woman I’ve been with in the last few years has been a quick fuck. There was no point in establishing who wanted what because we were both after a release and nothing more. Not one of them needed me to take the lead. This is going to be so good. I want to unlock every last sensual detail about Hope. I run my hand down to the hem of her shirt and then up underneath until I encounter smooth, warm skin. "I like how you look in my shirt, baby." In a quick move, I pull the shirt up and over her head, dropping it on the nightstand. My hands slide down and cup her sweet little ass. She gasps and puts her hands on my shoulder for balance. "Hope, I really want you." The most gratifying, honest smile lights up her face. "I want you too." Thank fucking fuck. I stand up and she stumbles back a step, but I’ve got her. I slide one hand up into her hair and tip her head back so I can taste those sweet lips again. She’s so soft and eager. I touch the tip of my tongue to her and she opens for me. While my tongue explores her mouth, I let my hands roam back down to her ass. Her little cheeks fit my hands perfectly as I pull her up and into my hips. The move startles her, and she breaks away. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why—I’m hard as steel, and my jeans are doing a lousy job concealing my condition. Her hands slide off my shoulders. Oh, hell, no. "You okay, Hope?" Her teeth sink into her lower lip, distracting me so that I almost miss her words. "I’m scared."

"Of me?" I know I’m an animal, but I’m trying so hard to be gentle with her. The corners of her mouth turn down, and her eyes lower till she’s examining the floor. "Of this." Her little hand flutters in the space between us. "I haven’t been with anyone but my husband in over twelve years." She whispers the last part, but I hear her. Inside, I’m thumping my chest. Not that this is news to me. Of course she hasn’t been with another man. Everything about Hope radiates loyalty and honor. Deep down, I know it’s the reason I want her for myself so fucking bad. Our differences may be staggering, but in this, we're the same. If we make a promise, we keep it. As bad as my first marriage had been, I’d never strayed. Unfortunately, my ex had not felt the same way about fidelity. But Hope is different. I know it in my bones. "I kind of figured," I tell her as gently as possible. She nods but doesn’t look up. "Before that?" I’m such an asshole, because if she decides to ask me a similar question, I’m not sure I’ll be completely honest. But my curiosity wins out over common sense. "High school boyfriend," she whispers. Goddamn. "I’m not going to hurt you, baby." Finally she meets my eyes. "I know that." Those words mean a lot to me. Her trust means everything. "We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to." I’ll probably die from the most spectacular case of blue balls if I don’t get inside her soon, but I’ll do things at her pace. Then she does the most amazing thing. She places her index finger over my lips. "No more talking. Kiss me." No need to tell me twice. I wrap her in my arms and turn her toward the bed. My lips find hers, and this time I don’t hold back. I want her to understand who and what I am. How much I want her. She falls back on the bed, taking me with her. One hand is tangled in her hair, and my other is at her hip. One of her soft hands sneaks under the hem of my shirt, brushing against my skin. Grabbing the back of my shirt, I lift it over my head. She helps me yank it all the way off and toss it to the floor. Her gaze roams over me, heating my skin with pride at the way she seems to appreciate what she sees. Now she’s breathing hard, making her breasts rise and fall, ready to spill out of the skimpy tank top. My hand slips up under the material, and she sits up just enough for me to take it off completely. I’m left staring at her lace-covered breasts. They fill my hands nicely, and she arches off the bed when my thumb brushes over the fabric covering her nipple. So fucking gorgeous. She’s so responsive, it makes me crazy. I drop my mouth over hers and take another long, slow kiss. Her hands frame my face, sliding over my cheek and jaw. I can’t get enough of her touch. Groans of appreciation mingle with the sounds of our kissing. She rakes her nails through my hair, sending sparks down my spine. This time, I break the

kiss, frantically moving my mouth over her jaw, down her neck, along her clavicle, and down the valley between her breasts. I look up, but her head is thrown back, eyes closed. Using my fingers, I pull the lacy cups of her bra down so I can feast on her nipples. I suck and flick my tongue against the hard peaks until she twists under me. Those sharp little nails are still buried in my hair, lightly grazing my scalp, sending shivers all over me. Still tonguing her nipple, I let my hand roam down her side. She wriggles when I tickle her ribs, tease her belly button, but goes stiff as a board when I cup her pussy. Christ, the flimsy little pants are soaked. I rub my thumb restlessly over her mons and smile like a devil as she starts writhing under me. As I slide my hand up to the waistband, she goes still. "Don’t. I’m a mess. Down there." I honestly have no idea what that’s supposed to mean. My face must be full of what-the-fuck, because she sighs and braces herself on her elbows to look at me. She’s flushed from her chest up, and it’s a beautiful sight. "You’re used to all those neatly groomed strippers, and…I’m not…I haven’t done that in awhile." I’m still feeling clueless, but it’s starting to sink in. "Uh, baby, I don’t really give a shit. I just want your sweet little pussy." I can’t help being crude. The absurdity of her thinking some fucking pubic hair is going to stop me from what I’ve been drooling over for two damn years almost makes me laugh. Without giving her another chance to protest, I hook my fingers and yank the pants down her legs. She squeals and slams her eyes shut, but her hips shoot off the bed and her legs fall open, giving me one hell of a view. I should have jacked off this morning. The minute she got in the shower, I should have run downstairs and jerked myself because I’m not going to last very long. I want our first time to be perfect for her, and coming in five seconds like a teenager isn’t going to cut it. She’s all pale, creamy skin and glistening auburn curls. So fucking beautiful. I slide farther down the bed and push her legs up and over my shoulders. Using my fingers, I carefully rub over her clit hood in firm little circles until her body relaxes and she starts moaning. Then I spread her open, using my tongue to tease her first with soft licks, then light sucking. One finger slides into her easily, so I add another. She’s so hot, wet, and damn tight, my mouth stops moving for a minute. A little whine from her gets me going again. My tongue swipes up her pussy, and I tease her clit with soft little flicking motions. Her breath hitches, and her hips arch up against my face. My fingers work her soft at first, gliding in and out. I settle my mouth over her clit, stroking with my tongue gently for a bit, then harder until her legs tremble. Sweet little whimpers, begging, nonsense words echo in the room as she convulses around my fingers. Her hips jerk uncontrollably, but I keep at her, wringing every last drop of pleasure I can out of my girl.

Brilliant sparks keep firing behind my eyelids. He’s turned my body to jelly. I can barely move. It’s been so damn long since I came like that. Guilt creeps in when a tiny voice inside says I’ve never come so hard in my life. It’s just the passage of time. It’s been so long that you forgot what an orgasm was. That soothes my brain, but my body isn’t buying it. The urge to touch Rock overrides everything else. He crawls up my body, kissing every inch of me along the way. "Hope? Are you with me?" I nod because I can’t form any words right now. My hands slip over his shoulders and pull him down to me. Then I’m kissing him, tasting myself on his lips and not caring one bit. I can’t get enough. My fingers fumble with the button of his jeans. Together, we work the rough material down his legs. His hard, warm body blankets me, his thick erection resting on my thigh. I spread my legs and bump my hips up, begging him with my body for more. I need him to fill me hard, hot, and thick. "Baby, I really need to fuck you now," he whispers harshly. Mindless, I pant out a desperate sounding, "Yes, yes." I hear him rip open a condom and watch him roll it on. God, he’s beautiful and huge everywhere. I seem to surprise him by tipping my hips up and wrapping my legs around him. He’s in the perfect position to slide right in, but he stops and looks into my eyes first. "It’s been a while, baby. I’m probably going to embarrass myself." I’m not sure what he means. What’s a while for Rock? Twenty-four hours? A week? The man surrounds himself with hot, available strippers on a daily basis. I can’t ponder this any longer because he finally drives his cock deep inside in one hard thrust. "Fuck," he groans, drawing the curse out until instead of being vulgar, it’s the sexiest word ever spoken. I grip his very fine ass, digging in my nails in an attempt to pull him closer. Finally he begins to move. Each slide in and out has me gasping and moaning. Sensations spread through my core. Every place where our bodies are connected burns with need. In no time, he goes from gentle, sensuous slides to hard, forceful pumping. I widen my legs, bringing my knees up, wanting him as deep inside me as he can get. He hooks one of my legs over his shoulder and then the other one. Pleasure pours through me with the new angle. Every merciless thrust pushes me closer to another orgasm, and then I come, screaming and shaking. His cock jolts

inside of me, pulsing as he comes. He shrugs my legs off his shoulders and nuzzles my neck before turning to capture my lips in a searing kiss. "Thank you," he murmurs before moving away to dispose of the condom. Everything inside of me is still racing and trembling. Absently, my fingers reach up to pinch my still-hard nipples. "Jesus Christ, you’re the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen," Rock whispers. Embarrassed, I drop my hands. He slides back into bed and pulls me to him. Slowly, he takes my lips in a tender kiss. His hands stroke my back with startling gentleness considering how hard he just fucked me. A slow burn starts up, and I want him again. His soapy scent has been replaced with a lusty sweatiness, and it makes me want to lick him all over. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against his chin. The feeling of contentment that washes over me is false because I know this might be all the time we have together. Rock can’t be interested in me long term. I doubt he does long term, and let’s be honest—I'm nothing like the girls he’s used to. Now that he’s gotten fucking a straight-laced girl like me out of his system, he can go back to banging strippers or club girls who have a hell of a lot more experience to offer him than I do. It’s insane, but I want to keep him. I shouldn’t want anyone in my life permanently already, but I can’t help it. It’s sad and horrible that Clay died so young, but I feel like a year-long fog is lifting and I’m grasping at the sunlight. His big hand brushes hair off my cheek. "You look so serious." Yup, seriously crazy about you. But I keep the words to myself. The last thing he wants is a desperate-to-beloved woman in his bed. If this is going to end, I at least want it to end nicely. I force a smile. "I’m starving." Concern darkens his face. "Let’s feed you, then." I’m actually sleepy, but my stomach rumbles, so I get dressed. I sigh when I turn around and see he’s covered—I still haven’t gotten to explore those tattoos. "What’s wrong?" "You put a shirt on. I wanted to study all your tattoos." He throws back his head and laughs. "You can play discovery later." He holds out his forearms to me. "You can study these while we eat." I guess that will have to do. I like the promise of later. Downstairs is a mess. There are plates, empty bottles, plastic cups, and all sorts of other stuff scattered on every surface. Sleeping bodies in various states of dress and undress are draped over a few of the couches. The door to the meeting room is firmly shut, and I wonder if anyone is in there. Rock ignores the mess and leads me to the kitchen. My curiosity is piqued as we near the "yoga studio." I can’t even imagine what must have gone on in there last night. The door is only open a crack, so I can’t see more than the wall and a sliver of one of the mirrors. We enter the dining area. A few guys are sitting around one of the smaller tables.

I recognize Bricks right away. A big grin lifts his cheeks, and he stands. "Hi, Bricks." He comes closer and eyes Rock, who nods at him. Odd. "Hey, Hope. It’s good to see you." The quick hug startles me. As his counsel of record, when his ex filed another bullshit violation against him, the court had sent it to me. I promptly got a letter directing me to send it to another attorney. Feelings hurt all over the place on that one. I’d done damn good work for Bricks, but given the way things ended with Rock, it hadn’t surprised me. The enthusiastic way Bricks greets me does, however, surprise me. I want to ask him, and I think he senses my question because he shoves his hands in his pockets and shifts from foot to foot. Rock must feel what’s coming too, because he squeezes me tight to his side and kisses the top of my head. The other guys at the table where Bricks had been sitting look up in surprise. Is it me, or does Rock’s open affection grab their attention? Surely they’ve seen him with other women before? "Joining us, prez?" one of the guys asks. He’s tall and broad, with curling blond hair licking the edge of his jaw, a sharp nose, and a sexy amount of scruff. "Prospect is helping Trin with breakfast," a shorter, and only slightly less muscled than the rest, guy informs us. Rock seems conflicted. Is he already embarrassed to be seen with me? But then he pulls out a chair and gestures for me to sit. Again, the guys give him a strange look. Rock pulls a chair close to me and falls into it. Even though we’re in two separate chairs, we’re pretty much touching from shoulder to thigh. I’m absurdly happy. I don’t get to savor the moment, though. A tall, voluptuous blonde girl comes out of the kitchen with a tray of food. She’s both beautiful and cute. Suddenly I feel like an old sea hag. I thrust my hands into my hair, trying to tame it into something less messy. "Hey, Rock-n-Roll," she calls out with a smirk. "Hey, Trinity, you behaving yourself?" Rock answers. "Never." She stops and sets plates in front of each of the guys. When she sets the last plate down, the hulking blond guy, who looks like some kind of Viking warrior, yanks her into his lap and gives her a wet kiss on the cheek. She giggles and slaps him away, then focuses her attention on Rock. "What are you hungry for, Rock?" His hand covers mine and squeezes, drawing her attention to me. "Oh, hi. I’m Trinity." She waves a few fingers at me and scrambles out of the Viking’s lap. "Hi, I’m Hope." "Well, what can I get you?" Her mouth does this nervous upward half-smile thing, and I feel bad that she seems so damn uncomfortable. I take a look at what the guys are scarfing down—eggs and lots of bacon—and my stomach rolls. "Is there any cereal? Special K, Rice Krispies? Something like that?" I start to

push my chair out. "Actually, I can go—" Rock’s hand grasps me tighter as he pulls me back down. "It’s fine, Hope. You’re my guest." Trinity is on her way to a full freak-out. "Bring me what they’re having, get Hope her cereal, and two waters, please, Trinity," Rock directs. She nods but doesn’t say anything, just scurries back into the kitchen. I’m not even sure how to react to that. "You know how she got the name Trinity, right? All three holes—" "Wrath! The fuck?" Rock growls. The Viking slides a guilty look my way. "Sorry, Hope." The guy next to him snickers, then sticks his hand out to me. "Excuse our president’s shitty manners—I’m Teller." Rock grunts in response. "She knows the names of the important people." I grasp his outstretched hand briefly. "Nice to meet you, Teller." Bricks shakes his head and fixes his gaze on me. "Rock told me you did the mural in the front room. It’s really spectacular," I say in an attempt to make some normal conversation. It’s the right move because Bricks’s face lights up. He rolls up his sleeve to show me the tattoo on his bicep, a mini-version of the mural. I can’t help but lean over and trace the lines. "Wow, that’s amazing." He seems shocked that I’m touching him, so I snatch my hand back. "Sorry." "No, it’s fine." And we’re back to awkward. Trinity breezes back in the room, setting down a giant family-size box of cornflakes in front of me as well as a bowl and a gallon of milk. "Jesus Christ, Trin, how much ya think she’s gonna eat?" Wrath mumbles at her. Rock raises an eyebrow, but there’s no way I’m going to let him give this girl a hard time. She probably hates me enough already as it is. "It’s fine. Thank you, Trinity. I’m starving." She throws me a grateful look and disappears into the kitchen again. I get busy pouring my cereal, because I wasn’t lying—I am hungry. "So Bricks, how is it going with the kids?" "Great. Sue’s finally chilled the fuck out. But if shit goes down again, I want you taking care of it." Rock tenses up next to me but doesn’t say anything. "I’m not really—" "It’s safe now. Vipers are in the fucking gr—," Wrath starts. Rock’s fist slams into the table, rattling my cereal bowl. "Are you fucking high?" "What? She doesn’t know?" He jerks his chin in my direction. All hell is breaking loose around me, but I’m not sure why. "Know what?" I ask.

"Nothing," Rock growls. Wrath looks to Teller and Bricks, but they both shake their heads. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.

I’m going to kill Wrath. It’s a shame because we’ve been brothers a long time, but the motherfucker has got a death wish this morning. Maybe I’ll just ram my fist down his throat so he’ll finally shut the fuck up. We finish our breakfast in silence. At least I do. Hope is radiating confusion, and she barely ate a thing. Yeah, I’m going to kick Wrath’s ass for this. My girl has definitely checked out of whatever we had going on this morning. This is exactly why I hesitated to sit down and break bread with these pricks. I might trust them with my life, but I sure as fuck don’t trust them not to say shit my woman isn’t ready to hear right now. When I finish, she taps my arm. "I need to get my car," she says softly. Damn. I’m not ready to let her go yet. After seeing her get so excited checking out Bricks’s tattoo earlier, I was looking forward to taking her back upstairs and letting her get busy tracing my ink. Maybe with her tongue instead of her fingers. "It should be out front, doll." Her lips purse, and I sense she’s about to get the very worst idea. "I didn’t know where we were going to end up last night, so I figured it was safest here." She accepts that, thankfully. "I’m going to run upstairs and grab my shoes." She wriggles her bare foot against my leg, and inside I’m thanking Buddha she’s not angry with me. I want to be a gentleman and tell her I’ll go get them for her, but there’s no fucking way I’m leaving her at the mercy of these douchebags. "I’ll go with you." But, she’s already out of her chair. "I know the way. Be right back." I need to have a moment with Wrath, but I’m also hesitant to just let her run around the clubhouse unescorted. Not that anyone would hurt her, but I don’t want any of the guys thinking she’s up for grabs. "If you run into anyone, make sure to tell them you’re with me." She gives me an odd look, then leans down to kiss my cheek. It’s the sweetest kiss I’ve ever received, and I’m momentarily stunned. By the time I open my eyes, she’s almost out the door. Wrath thinks I won’t notice him trying to sneak away. "Stop right there, asshole."

He sits back down. "What the ever-loving fuck is wrong with you?" Teller and Bricks are laughing. "Shut the fuck up. You two weren’t much better." "Prez, I thought she knew at least a little bit." "Well, she doesn’t. All this shit is new to her, and if it’s all right with you, I’d like to break her in slowly, got it?" He smirks at "break her in slowly" until I give him a hard glare. "Yeah, sure." "And treat Trinity with some respect, would ya?" At that, Teller shakes even harder with laughter. "What’s so fucking funny, dipshit?" I growl, knowing I am not going to like the answer. "Everyone’s had a piece of Trinny." I don't know what's gotten into my brothers today, but they all seem eager to test my fucking patience. "So fucking what? She tossed your homely ass a pity fuck —be grateful, not a dick about it." Teller backs down with a pout. Fucking babies. "Boss is right. She’s a nice girl, and she does a lot around here," Bricks adds. "Ass-kisser," Wrath grumbles. I’m tired of these guys. "Assholes, all of you." I punch Bricks in the shoulder, so he knows I’m not lumping him in with the two assholes I’m actually pissed at. Then I’m out of here. Hope’s been away from me for much too long. The way she bounds down the stairs makes it impossible to believe she’s over thirty. At first, she flashes me a bright smile, like she’s happy to see me, then it dims, and I’m guessing she remembers she’s annoyed with me. Fantastic. I take her hand, and we head outside. It’s a perfect crisp, cool morning. "You warm enough?" "I’m good." "Look, I’m sorry." "I feel like I had breakfast in a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language." That’s actually a really good way to describe it, and I tell her so. "So, it’s a biker thing?" "Yeah." "What are Vipers?" Shit—I’m not ready to have this conversation with her yet. But if I want her in my life, she needs to be aware of some things. "Not what—who. They’re a rival MC. They run Ironworks and most of the surrounding county right up to the Vermont border. We had some problems with them, but it’s over with now." I can see her processing this information. "Oh. Okay," she finally says.

Obviously none of it really sunk in. I’m having a tough time here, because I want to be straight with her, but I also don’t feel like giving her information that’s going to unnecessarily scare her and possibly push her away from me. Not when I finally have her in my life in the way that I’ve wanted for so long. We’re still walking. We’ve cleared the wall that surrounds the conference center and are crunching over leaves into the woods. "How much of this do you own?" "All together, about three hundred acres." "Wow. Impressive. What are you going to do with all that land?" It’s a good question. One I’ve been contemplating a lot myself lately. I own a house down in the city, but I spend so much of my time out here it seems like a waste. It would probably be a lot safer if more of us lived up here. Trinity lives here full time. She’s the only club girl with her own private room because she takes care of the place for us too. Two guys stay here round the clock to keep up on the grow house. Wrath, Z, Teller, and Murphy mostly live here full time, although Teller splits a lot of his time at his grandmother’s house helping take care of his little sister. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to start adding some other buildings. Maybe build a house up here if I had someone to share it with. "A lot of the guys hunt in the fall, so there’s that. We put in a small shooting range." "Isn’t that dangerous?" "Not if you know what you’re doing." She’s silent. "Why haven’t you gone back to work, Hope?" She doesn’t answer for so long, I wonder if she didn’t hear me. "I can’t." I gently place my hand on her arm. "What about your house and stuff, honey?" We’ve stopped walking, and she’s just fidgeting and staring off into the woods. "Clay had some insurance money. I’m okay for now." "Oh, that’s good." It’s really none of my business. But I am relieved to know her husband thought to make sure she was taken care of if anything ever happened to him. "This last year has just been…awful." My arm snakes around her waist, and I pull her close. I can’t stand the thought of her in pain, emotional or any other kind. I also can’t shake the feeling that if I push her too fast, I’ll lose her. What I want to say is "you’ve got me" or "I’m here for you." But, I get the sense she’s not going to react well, so I just offer her a shoulder to lean on for now. After a few minutes, she wraps her arms around my waist and tips her head up. There it is. Those beautiful green eyes that have haunted me since the first day I spotted her in that crowded courtroom. Even when I confused or annoyed her, she saw me. To her, I wasn’t a guy she wanted to ride for selfish reasons or some lowlife criminal. She saw me and treated me with respect, even if I irritated the shit out of

her. "This is nice here. Peaceful." The look on her face is serene, and I’m so done for. We take in the mountain views together a little longer. She stops and gives me her sweet little frustrated look again. I lean down to kiss her, and she throws her arms around my neck, clinging to me. With my hands under her ass, I lift her up so she’s at the perfect kissing level. Somehow, before I know it, I’ve got her pinned to a huge pine tree. Her legs are wrapped around my waist, and her hot core sears me right through the layers of clothing between us. I’m so fucking hard I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of my jeans. I really need to get out of them and into her. The bark of the tree bites into my knuckles, and I realize it’s going to rip her back up if we keep going. Her hands have moved south, and she’s tugging at my belt. "Baby, hang on. I gotta set you down." The loss of her wrapped around me is swift, and it sucks. But the second her feet touch the ground, she turns and braces her hands against the tree. The position is sexy as hell, and she makes it worse by arching her back and thrusting her ass higher into the air. Oh, hell fucking yes. She watches me over her shoulder as I slip a condom out of my pocket and struggle to free myself to put it on. "Aren’t you a boy scout." "A guy can dream." This playful version of Hope wriggles her ass at me in an invitation I have no intention of turning down. In one swift move, I pull her pants down to her knees and grip her hips. I’ve got to bend a little to get the right angle, but once I sink inside her, it's heaven and nothing else registers. We’re not in danger of being seen out here. There’s no reason for any of the guys to come stalking through the woods looking for us, but I have this insane urge to cover her up. Hope’s body is mine, and even the thought of the woodland bears and deer getting an eyeful annoys me. She whines as I pull out and turns to give me this pissy expression that is cute as fuck. I pull my shirt over my head. "Stay like that, baby." Dropping the shirt to the ground, I sit down with my back up against the tree. She’s still braced against it, staring down at me. "Come here." I reach my hand up and she takes it, kicking off her pants the rest of the way. Okay, now she’s more naked than before. Then she’s straddling me and easing herself down with painful slowness onto my aching cock. "Fuck, Hope." She presses up tight and kisses my jaw, staring into my eyes. After a few agonizing seconds, her eyes flutter half-closed and she’s rocking up and down on my cock, driving me nuts. Now there’s too much clothing in my way. I want her tits in my mouth, and there’s my sweatshirt and a couple other layers preventing that. Snaking my hands under the material, I fill my hands with her lace-covered breasts, rubbing my thumbs over her nipples. This is crazy. I want my hands all

over her at once. Fingers sinking into her hips, pinching her nipples, cupping her shoulders to hold her down so I can thrust up into her. Her shouts echo around us in the woods. It’s possible they heard that back at the clubhouse, but I don’t really give a fuck. Everyone will know I’m out here pleasuring my woman. Big deal. The walls of her snug little pussy contract around me, calling my own orgasm. Now it’s my sharp groaning filling the air around us. She rides out the storm, her face buried in my neck, licking and nipping at my skin. My hands grab her face, and I pull her to me for a victory kiss. We sit still for a few minutes, our foreheads touching, my hands settled at her waist. Finally, I nudge her and help her stand. She turns around and bends down to pick up her pants, and it’s a fight not to take her again. Except, I’m spent. I bury the condom under a pile of leaves. "That’s not so green," she jokes. She’s dressed, but has this very appealing, freshly fucked look about her. She should always look like this—rosy cheeks, reddened lips, mussed hair. I pick out a few small twigs that got tangled at the ends of her hair. "I miss those cute little bangs you had when we met," I say absently. Her face freezes, and she runs a self-conscious hand through her hair. "I haven’t really—" I press a quick kiss to her forehead. "Doll, you’re beautiful no matter what." The tight expression softens. I note that her self-esteem issue hasn’t improved. It will be my pleasure to help her work on that. When we’ve righted our clothing, I take her hand and lead her farther into the woods until we reach the clearing. "Oh my gosh, you have windmills! That’s so cool!" She claps her hands together in a very girlish gesture and grins from ear to ear. The enthusiasm she displays just guts me. I’ve never known a sweeter woman. There are four windmills up here that power the center. From a distance they’re unremarkable, but up close they’re pretty impressive. What they mean to the MC is that when we have large spikes in power usage, the electric company isn’t placing a phone call to the DEA. Maintaining our grow house downstairs takes a lot of energy. It’s the most important reason we bought up this hippie compound. Selfsufficiency. "It was too dark to notice last night, but the roof is covered in solar panels too." She turns to me with this adorable, curious expression. "I had no idea motorcycle clubs were so environmentally conscious." "Actually, this was all here when we bought the place, but it’s nice not to get an electric bill." "What about wintertime? It must be brutal up here on the mountain." "We definitely need the plow truck, but the wind that gets generated here yearround is pretty insane. It hasn’t been an issue yet." Her expression has turned thoughtful, and she’s quiet as we hike back down. Wrath greets us out front when we return. He’s lucky I’ve had some time to calm

myself. The urge to throat punch him isn’t as strong as before. Hope gives him a warm smile he’s not worthy of, and the bastard has the nerve to grin back at her. As he pulls her keys from his pocket and hands them to her, the urge to connect my fist with his Adam’s apple returns. The look in my eyes must be murderous, because he holds out his hand. "Prez, we got that thing this afternoon." Right this second, I don’t give a fuck about the exchange we have going on with the Green Street Crew or their little bitch shotcaller. I’m not ready to let Hope out of my sight. With a tilt of my head and a raised eyebrow, I let him know he better not spew club business in front of Hope again. But, he’s not completely stupid, or he’s finally sober, because he doesn’t elaborate. Taking Hope by the elbow, I turn her away from Wrath—the nosy bastard doesn’t need to hear our conversation. "I’m sorry, doll. I do have some business to take care of this afternoon. It will probably go late." She turns and places her hand over my heart. Fuck, if I’m not ready to take her again, right on the hood of her own damn car, in front of everyone. "I understand. Uh, thank you for last night." Her cheeks flame. In a lower voice, she says, "And this morning." Oh, damn, she’s cute. And she’s making it impossible for me to say goodbye.

11

I ’m so giddy driving home from Rock’s that I almost get lost. My GPS is confused

up here in the mountains. Once I reach Route 156, I know where I am and my house isn’t actually that far away. My cell phone died sometime during the night, but I don’t realize it until I walk in the door and plug it in. It blows up with blinking lights and beeps, telling me someone has been trying to reach me for a while now. Gee, wonder who it could be? Sophie, of course. Before she ends up at my door, I call her back. A text isn't going to cut it with her. Squealing greets me on the other end so loud that I pull the phone away from my ear. "Tell me everything," she gushes. "Jeez, calm yourself, you nosy perv." But I can’t help breaking into some giggles of my own. "Did you?" "None of your business." "Oh my God, you did!" I sigh, because I’m not really one to discuss certain private details. I know Sophie and Lilly carry on like two drunk sailors, but I’ve never been comfortable with that kind of talk. I’m such a prude. To take some of the attention off me, I ask, "You get home okay?" "Funny story, actually. Jonny made it home from tour early and came looking for me as a surprise, but I was at Mara and Damon’s." "Did he find you?" "Eventually," she answers without any more details. "Oh, and Ross finally went home with Brian." "Wow, he’s been trying to get in his pants for a while." "Yeah, he says thanks. The big, scary bikers worked like a good luck charm." Okay that’s so ridiculous, even I have to laugh. When I finally stop, my foggy brain remembers the way Lilly and Z had been making fuck-me eyes at each other. "Lilly get home okay?"

"She got a ride," Sophie says and then bursts into laughter. I roll my eyes at the ceiling. Sometimes I can’t believe we’re the same age. The first thing I do after getting off the phone with Sophie is make a hair appointment. I call up a place that has a day spa attached to it. Asking Sophie or one of my other friends to go with me would probably be a good idea, but I want the alone time. Colors Day Spa is that perfect mix between edgy stylish and uppity salon. They’ve been in the area forever, but I never went because I didn’t have the money. Now I do, and it’s a completely different experience. When I walk in the door, I’m greeted by a friendly girl who leads me to a beverage counter. She pours me some cucumber water, which, I discover, is fabulous. I opted for a full package, and for the rest of the afternoon I am washed, plucked, waxed, polished, trimmed, conditioned, and massaged until I feel it’s a crime to get back into the clothes I wore in here and drive myself away. The difference is amazing, and I can’t stop staring at myself in my rearview mirror. I had missed my bangs. Now they are back, perfectly trimmed and styled. Clothes are next on my agenda. My pants are currently being held up by a belt I had to punch extra holes in. I pick up a few pairs of jeans, some sweaters, T-shirts, sleep sets, and one dress. Feeling more than a little guilty, I head to the lingerie department and splurge on some racy new bras and barely there panties. Just in case. If Rock liked me at my worst, imagine what he’ll think now. My stupidity hits me dead in the middle of the mall. We haven’t made any plans to see each other again. Although we said goodbye with a nice amount of affection this morning, there was no second date planned. No "I’ll call you later." Nothing. I slump down on one of the benches, my burst of energy deflated. "Damn." I turn my head and catch the scent of the shampoo the salon used. It’s enough to perk me up out of my slump. So what if we didn’t make plans? He was definitely into me. He’ll get in touch. I’m not going to turn into one of those crazy, clingy women. I’ve got my own shit going on. Except I don’t have anything going on in my life. Up until two days ago, I had been in a depressed fog. I’ll figure it out, though. I gather up my packages and head home.

"Tell me again why I put up with these Green Street dickwads," I ask Wrath as I watch Hope drive away. I should have been the one to drive her home, or at least let

her follow me so she doesn’t get lost finding her way back. But, she insisted she’d be fine, so instead of taking her upstairs and tying her to my bed like I wanted, I’m watching her cloud of dust. "'Cause they buy almost everything we grow," Wrath offers. I grunt in response. "And when we stopped moving stuff for the Mexicans and growing our own shit, they stuck with us?" Yeah, okay. That was a dicey time in our club’s history. Wrath and I go way back. We’ve been friends since I found him living on the street as a teenager, supporting himself by beating the shit out of people in unsanctioned, underground fights. Two years younger than me, he’s the closest I have to a blood brother, which also probably explains why half the time I want to kick his ass. There is no one else I trust with my life more than Wrath. Together with Z, we’d seized our opportunity to take the Lost Kings in a new direction almost ten years ago. We’d originally joined to belong to a brotherhood of riders looking for freedom. The MC represented the family we never had. It meant something. But the club started moving in a direction that was bad for everyone but those at the very top. Were we ever going to be legit civilians working straight nine to fives? Fuck, no. But we didn’t have to be thugs who lined their pockets at the expense of their brothers either. "Still doesn’t explain why that mouthy little punk insists I be there for every damn drop." "I think he’s got a crush on you, prez." Wrath thinks he’s hysterical. I think I want to kick his ass again. "So, what’s the story with the uptight lawyer chick? How was she?" I cock my head to the side, seriously concerned about my friend’s mental health. "Do you have some sort of death wish you need to discuss with me?" "She your old lady now?" I don’t even need to think about this. "Yeah, she’s gonna be." Wrath takes a step back, eyes wide, and nods his head. "Wow, that’s big, prez. We don’t got any old ladies right now. So, that’s huge." Fuck, yeah, it is. Like I don’t have enough bullshit to deal with. The club is going to want more info on Hope. They need to trust whoever we bring into the fold. Unless I keep her completely isolated from the club, over time it’s only natural she’ll overhear stuff, and they’re going to want to know they can trust her. I’m sure the fact that she’s a lawyer will also cause problems, although I don’t understand why. In fact, since she’s bound by confidentiality oaths that I know she takes very seriously, they should just simmer the fuck down about it. Wrath’s right about one thing, though. There are no active ol’ ladies at the moment. In fact, the whole club is pretty young. At thirty-seven, I’m almost the oldest member. I’ve also been in the longest at about twenty years. With one exception, all our older members are either dead, or retired. The retired ones usually go cause trouble down in Florida. They come up and give us grief for a few

weeks during the hottest parts of the summer and then ride back down the coast, taking their ol' ladies with them. "I’m sure Trinity wouldn’t mind you making her an ol’ lady," I say just because I feel like giving Wrath shit right now. "That’s never going to happen, prez." "Why? She’s a good girl. She’s gorgeous. Knows when to keep her mouth shut. Knows her way around the club." "That’s the problem—she knows her way around the club a little too well." "Oh please—you’ve fucked every skank in a hundred mile radius, so what’s the difference?" I hate this attitude some of the guys get about club ass being good enough to fuck but not good enough to settle down with. In reality, it would cause a lot less problems. Although considering my thing for Hope, I’m hardly in a position to be handing out advice on this subject. "The difference is, I wouldn’t be his old lady if he got down on both knees and begged in front of the entire club." Oh shit. I didn’t see Trinity hanging out around the corner. The hurt in her voice makes me wish I’d kept my damn mouth shut. Giving Wrath a hard time isn’t worth the pain his shitty comments probably just caused her. "Fuck, Trinny. I should make you wear a damn bell around your neck," I tease to smooth the tension. She comes fully around the corner. There’s a smile on her face that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thanks for sticking up for me, Rock." I hold out my arms, and she comes over, giving Wrath a death glare on her way. I give her a quick hug. "You’re a big help to the club, Trinny, and we all appreciate what you do." "I know that’s not true. But I know you appreciate it, and that’s all that matters." I give her an affectionate pat on the side and watch Wrath’s nostrils flare. It’s absurd because Wrath knows damn well she’s like a kid sister to me. "You headed out, babe?" I ask. "Kitchen’s all cleaned up for now. There’s still some girls inside, so if it gets messed up again, they’ll take care of it." "Good deal. You coming back later?" Her gaze slides over to Wrath before she answers, "No, I’ve got a date tonight." Wrath turns and goes inside without another word. Trinity giggles. "That was fun." "Thanks, babe. He’s had it coming all morning." She turns back with serious eyes. "I liked Hope. Will we be seeing more of her around here?" "That’s the plan." "Good. It’s about time you find the right woman. You do so much for everyone. You deserve to be happy too, Rock." This is probably the most serious conversation Trinny and I have had in years.

"Think you can show her the ropes? Ease her in slow?" "Of course. You know I’ll do anything for you, prez." A soft smile plays over her lips, and I wonder what’s going on in her pretty head. "Don’t worry about Wrath and me. It’s never going to happen. I’m over it." "Trinity—" "Seriously, Rock. I’m fine." I find Wrath sulking in the war room. "You done busting my nuts about Trinity?" "Yeah, I guess." He plants his hands on the table and stands. "Let’s check shit out downstairs. Prospect is bringing the van up." "We’re not taking the fucking prospect," I warn him as we walk side by side down the steps to the grow house. It’s humid as fuck and smells like sweetened shit once we pass through the sealed door. There are no plants in this first room. It’s all packaging. Stash and Teller are busy weighing and packing up the weed we’re bringing to GSC. "Where’s Sparky?" Teller looks up and rolls his eyes. "Singing to his plants." Not unusual at all. Sparky is a goldmine for the club, but he’s also spent way too much alone time with the bud. He’s fashioned a small bedroom for himself down here, but during the early growth stages, he sleeps on a cot next to the plants. "Great," I mutter. Pushing through the next sealed door, I find Sparky is indeed singing to his little plants. The six rooms back here are a grower’s wet dream. Sparky could make a fortune if he went around setting up grow houses freelance. But he chose the club a long time ago. His brilliant plan is what got us out from under the violent Mexican cartel. After the initial sticker shock of setting up the grow house, things have been profitable. It’s less money than we made with the Mexicans, but it’s also a lot less risk and a lot less Kings in the ground. My brothers’ safety means more to me than the ability to buy a new Escalade every year. Sparky’s dad made his living as an electrician, so he learned the trade at a young age. Put himself through engineering school, but for some reason decided he’d rather live an outlaw life instead of the life of a buttoned-up professional. Finding this conference center was the key to putting Sparky’s plan into action. Self-sufficient, large, secluded, and two different alternate energy choices to choose from. Couldn’t ask for more. He altered the downstairs to suit his needs without destroying the entire facility, which is where a lot of grow houses ran into trouble. I didn’t know every detail, but the place hadn’t burned down yet and none of us had died from mold exposure, so I figured Sparky had done a good job. The different strains of bud he grew had a reputation and were in high demand. The money rolled in, and everyone was happy. Sparky glances up with a finger pressed to his lips. "Shhh, boss, these guys don’t know you yet." I nod, not because I think the plants give a shit about a proper introduction, but

because I don’t want to upset Sparky’s precarious grasp on sanity. Jerking my finger to the door, I silently tell him to meet me outside. He makes some adjustments and follows me out. "This is prime growing time, boss. I gotta be with the plants," he whispers as soon as the door seals behind us. "Yeah, we got the drop with GSC tonight. Anything I need to know?" This part excites Sparky. He rubs his hands together in his mad scientist way. "Follow me, boss." We go back into the front room where Teller and Stash have everything bundled into three large crates. One crate has a red bar painted on the side, one has a green cross, and the last one has a purple circle—Sparky’s way of keeping everything organized. Giddy with the excitement of explaining how his babies work, he runs a loving hand over each crate, stopping at the purple marked one. "This one is Purple Ghost. Tell them it’s best for stress, anxiety, and insomnia because it’s gonna leave the smoker happy and euphoric, but a little sleepy." "Got it." He gives me a narrowed-eyed look as if he senses I’m not as enthralled with all of this as he is. He touches the next crate with care. "Okay, this one is the Jaded Bastard. It’s taken me like two years to perfect this one. Sticky-icky and dank. They should charge the most for this one, okay?" "Okay, I’ll pass that along." He nods. "What’s special about it?" I prompt. Sparky bounces right back to happy with my interest in his creation. While I don’t buy into all this bullshit and I don’t for a minute fool myself that we’re somehow offering a medical service, I am at my heart a hustler, and I do want to talk up my product to the buyer. He thumps his fists together in front of his face for a few seconds before answering. "Okay, okay. This is awesome for pain relief. Anyone with migraines, arthritis, fibromyalgia or shit like that, this is for them." Pain relief. Jesus Christ, what ever happened to straight-up Motrin? I point to the last crate, and Sparky is off. "This is the best. She’s a beauty. Definitely charge more for her." He doesn’t realize he already said that about the last one, and I don’t point it out. "Red Widow." I suck in a deep breath. It’s a coincidence, but it feels like some weird omen. "The Red Widow relieves depression better than any Prozac. It’s gonna leave them happy and uplifted." Wrath, who’s been silent the entire time, starts laughing like an asshole. Sparky is instantly insulted. "Naw, you done a good job here, bro. It’s just Prez already found his own uplifting Red Widow." Satisfied with that answer, Sparky heads back to his plants.

I jab a finger in Wrath’s direction. "Get those crates loaded into the van, and keep your mouth shut. One more word out of you, and you’re staying here tonight." "Rock, I’m only joking. You can’t go without me." He’s right. I picked him to be my enforcer for a reason. Although I’ve got a good relationship with GSC, it doesn’t mean these drops aren’t dangerous. Still, he’s been working my last fucking nerve all day. "Simmer the fuck down, or I’ll cut you out. Don’t press me." For the most part, club profits are split evenly. Twenty-five percent goes directly to the club account. The rest is split among all members, except for the ones who go to the actual drop. They get an extra bump. So by mouthing off, Wrath is risking his fat envelope of cash. Sparky also gets the bump and paid at the same level as officers for obvious reasons. Not the way things were run when I was coming up in the club. The guys at the top took everything, leaving scraps for the ones below. My view on this is, we all assume a certain level of risk and should all be rewarded for our sacrifices. I would never be comfortable sleeping in my mansion knowing the guys below me were struggling to pay their bills or some shit. I don’t operate that way, and I know for a fact that method does not generate loyalty. Leadership still makes more because there is more work and more risk involved, but in the end, all of this is a team effort. I try to pay everyone fairly. What they do after that isn’t my concern. "Come on, let’s load this shit in," Wrath barks to Stash and Teller. Stash pounds up the cellar stairs and throws open the Bilco door. "Hoot! Bring the van over." Convinced they can handle this without me, I go upstairs to get ready. The rumpled sheets remind me that mere hours ago, I had the woman who has haunted me for two years underneath me. My cock hardens at the memory of her soft skin and slick heat. Fuck. I miss her so much I already feel twitchy. I can’t believe I’m turning into such a mushy asshole. Especially when I have serious business to attend to this evening. The timing couldn’t be worse. We only do this drop once every two months or so. I need to get my head straight. Even the shower stall teases me. I find a few long strands of Hope’s hair inside. Fuck me if it looks like she didn’t use my razor too. The idea of her in here all nervous, maybe prepping herself for me, makes me want to go hunt her down and fuck her senseless. I’ve barely dried off from my shower as I stand in my closet and pull down my Kevlar vest. I always wear one on these drops. Like I said, I have a good relationship with GSC, but you still never know. I don’t trust any of these little shits. I pull on a sweatshirt and then strap on a holster. In it goes two 9mm pistols. The clips I carry were made illegal by New York’s bullshit gun control legislation last year because they hold ten rounds. But it’s not like these little street punks say "oh, I’m only allowed to put seven rounds in," so neither do I. I throw two extra fully loaded clips in the cargo pockets of my pants and head downstairs. I poke my head in the back of the van to verify all three crates are loaded in. At

least Wrath is good for something today. Z and Teller are in the front seat. Wrath and I will take our bikes. A prickle of unease settles over me, and I step back inside the clubhouse. "Bricks, glad you’re here. Why don’t you and Murphy tag along tonight?" "You sure, boss?" "What’s wrong, prez?" Wrath asks from behind me. "Just got a feeling. Don’t worry—I’ll pay them out of my cut." He sighs. "That’s not what I meant. We always go with four guys. What’s got you worried?" I’m not one hundred percent sure what’s crawled up my ass tonight. "Nothing. I just want them to go on a drop. See how it’s done." "I’ll find Murphy and meet you outside," Bricks says and takes off. "You got a bad feeling?" Wrath asks. I roll my shoulders, feeling the weight of the two pistols at my sides. "Have them ride in the van." It’s obvious Wrath wants to question me more about this, but he knows better. I get on my bike. Four guys pile into the van, and we take off. I take the lead with Wrath right behind me, and the van follows. Now I’m wondering if I shouldn’t have had two of the guys drive behind the van. It’s never good to start questioning yourself in this line of business. Empire certainly isn't the biggest county in New York, but even so it can take at least an hour and a half to drive from one end to the other. The ride into the City of Empire takes a good half hour then another fifteen minutes to drive through the city and into Riverwalk Park where we meet. It’s right off the highway, but except for a few homeless folks who bed down there each night, it’s usually deserted. At the back of the park, thick trees give us plenty of privacy. Once we clear the empty parking lot, I signal the guys to back the van down the narrow road leading to our drop point. I go ahead of them to make sure everything looks legit. Spotting Gunner, I park my bike and greet the young shotcaller. "Where’s your crew, man?" I ask after we do one of those weird male ritual armto-elbow-bump-handshake things. "Fuckers are late. Always chasing pussy, you know?" "I know, but you gotta lay down the law. You’re the boss." I end up counseling Gunner like this more often than I care to admit. He’s had a lot of responsibility dumped on his shoulders recently. I like the kid, but I don’t think he’s going to last long. His crew doesn’t respect him. The rumbling of a car halts our conversation. Headlights sweep over the pavement. Wrath strides up to me, hand on his piece. I recognize the two in the SUV—Pinky and Kidd. They wave and pull their SUV near the van, practically blocking the road. My gaze darts to the sidewalk and grassy area along the road. It’s heavily crowded with shrubbery, but I could get my bike through it if I had to. Same for the van. It could plow through the evergreen trees in front of it with ease if it became necessary.

Why am I thinking like this? To some degree, my brain works like this everywhere I go. Tonight for some reason, my mind is working overtime. "Let’s see the goods." Gunner laughs. He claps me on the shoulder and swaggers to the van. Pinky and Kidd meet us at the back of the Van. Wrath, Zero, Teller, and Bricks also join the party. Gunner raises an eyebrow at the extra manpower but doesn’t have the stones to ask. Murphy flings open the van doors from inside and pushes one of the crates to the edge. It’s the one full of Jaded Bastard. Gunner snorts. "That’s an MC out in Oakland, you know?" I didn’t know and wonder about Sparky. "Small outfit. Like ex-cops or some shit," Gunner elaborates, like I give a fuck. I start giving him the sales pitch, and he takes out a small notepad and one of those little golf pencils and actually writes down notes on each strain. It’s precious, really. When we’re done with the presentation, Kidd hands Gunner a thick envelope and a small duffel bag. I quirk my eyebrow at the envelope—our regular fee should fit just fine in the duffel. Gunner pulls me aside, and I signal the guys to move the crates over to the SUV. "It’s a tip from Loco to say thanks for taking care of the Viper problem." The Viper problem went down last year, so I don’t know what’s taken Loco so long to get around to "thanking" me. It’s fucking bizarre too. No one parts with money for shits and giggles in our world. I open the envelope, and there appears to be twenty grand in it. Interesting. Gunner could have kept it for himself, and I never would have known the difference. Ah—it’s a test. Fuck me. Gunner is not long for this world. No respect from below, and no trust from above. Christ. "Thanks, man. I’ll give Loco a call and tell him I appreciate it." I don’t want to be responsible for this kid’s demise. As I tuck the envelope into the waistband of my jeans, the roar of Harley pipes fills the quiet night. Way too fucking close. They’ve definitely entered the park. My gaze darts to Gunner, who looks about ready to shit himself. That’s not encouraging or surprising. "Wrap it up!" I shout to my guys. The four head into our van and lock it down. Wrath tosses the duffel in through the front window to Z and jumps on his bike. Kidd and Pinky are standing outside the SUV looking confused. Gunner is staring into the woods. "G, where’s your piece?" He turns and gives me a look like he has no idea what I’m talking about. Slowly he lifts up his shirt and pulls out a Glock. I unholster one of my pistols and screw on a sound suppressor. We’re not quite in the city, but we’re not exactly out in the wilderness either. Two Harleys sneak around the front of the SUV, firing shots wildly into the air. What the fuck? I recognize one of the punks from the 18th Street Boyz, a rival to

GSC. Why the hell they’re on Harleys, I have no idea. Not exactly their ride of choice, which is obvious from the way they can't seem to control the machines. The first idiot brakes and aims his weapon at Gunner. Wrath comes out of nowhere and punches the kid off the bike. Both bike and rider hit the ground. The other kid doesn’t appear to have a weapon out yet. He’s still stunned from seeing his pal knocked to the ground and getting his ass kicked by the fury that is a six-foot, six-inch, two-hundred-and-sixty pound sometime-underground fighter. I’m not too shabby in the fighting department myself. Wrath and I have trained together for years. Launching myself at the kid, I tackle him to the ground. He gets in a few solid punches, but they only spur me on. When he’s finally limp, I yank him to his feet. Wrath does the same with his trophy. "What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" I shout. The punk I’m holding spits in my direction. "I ain’t gotta answer to you, old man." "This old man just kicked your fucking ass," I remind him before shoving my fist into his gut. He doubles over and barfs. Gunner has finally woken up out of his stupor or coma or whatever had him paralyzed. He puts his gun to the punk’s head. "You trying to jack us? On fucking Harleys?" Yeah, about that. "Bricks, Teller, get over here." "You punks lift these from someone?" I only get moans from the one on the ground at my feet. Wrath’s thug is more talkative. "Yes! We picked them up outside the Green Room." That’s Viper territory. "Are you two suicidal or plain stupid?" Gunner moves like he’s going to shoot them. "Not so fast." I nod at Bricks. "Grab some zip ties and a sharpie." He’s back in a few seconds. We drag the little punks to the tree line and lean their backs against the trunk of one particularly thick tree. Running the zip ties together, I tie the two in a backwards hug against the tree. We zip tie the bikes to the next tree over. For fun, I paint a little message on each of their foreheads. Don’t steal from Vipers. Wrath shrugs and nods. "Should do." Gunner, Pinky, and Kidd come up beside me and laugh. "Go down to Green Room and tell them where they can find their bikes, okay?" Gunner going there will cause a lot less problems than one of us will. Plus, this whole clusterfuck seems to be a GSC problem, not a Lost Kings one, so I don't want to get any more involved than I already have. All this adrenaline coursing through me has me jonesing to see Hope. A flick of my wrist tells me it’s only nine-thirty. She’ll still be up. "Take the money to the club and put it in the safe," I whisper to Teller. As the club treasurer, he'll count it and sort it before storing it in the safe. We'll do our split at church tomorrow night. He gives me a fist-bump, and the four of them take

off in the van. "Where you going, prez?" Wrath asks with a smirk. My none of your business stare isn’t working tonight. "Hope’s." "Tell her I said hi." Yeah, right.

12

Tired from my shopping trip and spa day, the first thing I do when I get home is

take a nap. Pathetic, I know, but I’ve done more in the last two days than the last twelve months combined, so I feel entitled. When I wake up, it’s dark outside. I check my phone, but there are no calls or texts from Rock. My pride is a little stung. I picture him at Crystal Ball with girls like Inga on their knees for him, and my stomach lurches. This is stupid. We had one night together. I said goodbye to him less than twelve hours ago. He doesn’t owe me a phone call or anything yet. Besides, I remind myself, he said he had business to take care of. Who knows how late that goes? It’s not like he keeps conventional business hours. Feeling sweaty after my nap, I pile my hair on top of my head and take a quick shower. After wrapping a towel around myself, I sort through my purchases from this afternoon. I pull out a pair of satin pajama shorts with frilly bows on the sides and a tiny matching cotton T-shirt. Since I feel all sleek and smooth from my spa day, I want to wear something worthy of my new appearance. My feet are cold, but I don’t want to wear anything that will cover up my pretty sky-blue pedicure, so I jack the heat up instead. Seems practical. My nap has left me restless. I consider calling Sophie, but she said Jonny was in town, so I don’t want to bother her. I flip through Netflix and decide to start watching a television series that’s been taking up space in my queue for a while now. A little popcorn sounds good, so I tug out my air popper and find a jar of kernels. The second my butt cheeks kiss the couch cushion, I hear the distinctive rumble of a motorcycle. My heart races. It has to be Rock. Sure enough, a few minutes later there’s a knock at my door. I peek through the window first, then throw the door open. His face makes me stagger back a few steps. "Oh my God!" I pull him inside and press my fingers against his chin so I can get a look at the bruising decorating the right side of his face. "What happened?" "Nothing." He takes my hand and squeezes it, then kisses my fingertips. "You always dressed like that when you answer the door in the middle of the night?"

"No, I uh…" His question annoys me as it sinks in. "I checked to make sure it was you before I opened the door," I mutter. "Now, what happened to your face?" "Work accident." The corners of my mouth pull down—I hate seeing him hurt. "I’m not made of glass, baby. Trust me, I’ve endured much worse." That doesn’t exactly make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. In fact, it kind of terrifies me. Before I spiral into a full freak-out, he takes hold of my shoulders and really looks me over. "I like what you’re wearing. It’s awfully cute." I shrug. "I went shopping today." He kicks the door closed with his boot. "Oh yeah? What else did you do?" My lips purse into a pout. "I went to the spa." For the first time, he notices my hair. He sucks in a breath, then blows it out slowly over my forehead, ruffling my newly clipped fringe. "You’ve got your bangs back." My shoulders jump again, and I smooth the short hairs back into place with my hand. I’m still a little self-conscious about the cut, and the way he’s staring at me isn’t helping. His hands drop to my waist so he can pull me closer. Automatically, I go up on tiptoes to meet him halfway for a smoldering kiss. His arms wrap around me, pulling me into the protection of his body. The smell of leather and crisp outdoors surrounds him, and I inhale deeply. The movement of his lips against mine becomes more urgent as he pushes me backwards into the kitchen. I should know the layout of my own damn house, but I’m so lost in his drugging kisses that I bump into the counter. Rock doesn’t miss a beat. He picks me up and plants me on the counter, shoving his way between my knees. He breaks the kiss and touches his forehead to mine, looking me in the eyes. "Your counters are the perfect height," he whispers. His devilish grin only adds fuel to the fire racing through my belly. "You’re at the perfect height," I remark as I push against him and slide off the counter. Hunger and curiosity toy with his expression. I need to use my hands on his hips to steady myself as I sink down to my knees. His belt takes a moment to figure out. Rock’s hands slide over mine as he undoes it, then he lets me take over unsnapping the button and pulling down his zipper. The hard length of him fills my hands. With a light touch, I run my fingers over the satin-soft skin, testing and admiring. Opening my mouth, I flick my tongue over the smooth head, then slide it along the underside as I take him fully inside. Above me, he lets out a low groan, then a hiss as I wiggle my tongue. His hands tangle in my hair, but his touch remains light. I’m slow and deliberate in my exploration. It’s been a while since I’ve done this. My head swirls with dizzy desire as I pull back to stare at his heavy erection bobbing in front of my nose. Wild hunger spreads from my belly to my clit, but I

resist the urge to touch myself. This isn’t about me. Curling my hand around his shaft, I run my fingers up and down the silky smooth skin. I lean in and inhale his scent. Wild, salty, musky man. My tongue darts out, tasting the sensitive skin of the smooth head of his cock again. Above me, Rock lets out a sharp grunt. Hmm… I can do better than that. With pleasing him in mind, I lean in and circle the fleshy head of his cock with my tongue. I let my eyes drift shut, and my hand moves up and down his steely hard shaft. With aching slowness, I take him into my mouth. My tongue dances along the underside, earning a hiss of male appreciation from above. His fingers sink into my hair a bit tighter and his hips thrust forward, pushing him more firmly between my lips. A fleeting sense of panic wells up inside me, but I bat it away. I want him so much. Slowly I slide him out until the head of his cock is squeezed between my lips and then I take him deep again. A few more times, and his hips jerk with frantic need. My eyes pop open, and I stare up at him. The fierce, hungry glint in his eyes sends a pinch of heat to my clit. "Hope," he rasps. "Baby, stop." I hum in disagreement and hear him suck in a hissing breath. When his eyes drift shut again, I push my hand into the opening of his jeans, cupping his balls. "Jesus, Hope," he snaps. His hands curl under my arms, lifting me from the floor. I let him go with a soft, wet pop. The cool counter under the backs of my thighs takes a moment to register. Rock's hands cup my face, and he brings his mouth over mine, kissing deeply. The hem of his T-shirt tickles my thighs, and I tug it up, needing his hard, hot flesh against me. His leather vest gets in my way, so I ease it from his shoulders. He removes his hands from my face but keeps his mouth fused to mine, so I can slide the leather off. I fold it and set it neatly on the counter next to me, breaking our kiss for a second. In shock, I stare at what the vest has revealed. Strapped to his body is a holster stuffed with two guns. My jaw drops, and I jerk my hands into my lap, afraid to touch them. He unsnaps the leather straps and slides them off his body. Very carefully, he bunches it on top of the vest. I’m not sure what to make of that particular accessory. Guns make me nervous. But then his hands are in my hair, his lips on mine, and I get to work divesting him of his Tshirt. He breaks the kiss long enough to take the shirt off, draping it over the guns and vest. If the guns didn’t shock the shit out of me, the bulletproof vest he’s sporting under all that sure does. "Rock, what—" "Shhh. Later, baby." He strips off my shirt next. Immediately, my hands fly to his abdomen, tracing the hard ridges of muscle, trailing over the lines of ink. He is chiseled perfection everywhere. His hands cup my breasts, his thumbs finding and teasing my nipples. The raw desire on his face makes me squirm. "Rock," I whisper. His hands drop to my waist, where he tugs at the shorts. After a brief struggle,

he tears them off and captures me in another kiss. His hard body pushes between my thighs, his cock lining up— He groans and reaches over. My eyes pop open, and I watched him fish a small box out of one of the pockets in his vest. "Someone was hopeful," I tease. "We've only got three, baby. Let's make 'em count," he replies as he rolls the condom down his shaft. His hands settle at my thighs as he pulls me to the edge of the counter. Lifting my legs, I wrap them around his hips, opening myself to him. He pushes and nudges, but the angle isn’t quite right. He lets out a frustrated grunt, picking me up and impaling me fully. I clasp my arms around his neck and fuse my mouth to his. My hips buck wildly in the air, grinding against him. Rock yanks his mouth away. "Couch?" he asks breathlessly. I throw my arm in the direction of the living room. "That way." Still carrying me, jeans slipping down his thighs, he shuffles us into the living room. Lowering us to the couch, he groans as the new angle shifts him deeper inside of me. My hands rest on his wide shoulders for balance. "That a girl. Ride me like this." He won’t have to say it twice. Planting my knees in the couch cushions, I rise up and slam back down. "Ah, fuck," Rock groans in my ear. "Again." One of his hands clasps my hip, the other zeroes in on my clit. "Oh, baby, what did you…?" He’s too far gone to finish the thought, but I know what he meant. "Waxed. Today." His arms wrap tight around me. "So smooth. I can't wait to fucking lick you all over." Just the promise of his tongue sliding all over that newly bared flesh sent a fresh wave of warmth to my pussy. I spread my legs wider, slamming myself down harder. He pumps his hips up meeting me thrust for thrust until we’re both panting. "Fuck, Hope." "Uh-huh." He grabs both my hips and begins pounding up into me. Animalistic sounds of pleasure rise from his throat as he keeps pumping. Our flesh crashes together in a fierce, slick tempo. Every inch of him stimulates me. The tension finally snaps as my first climax breaks over me. Sharp, almost painful waves of orgasm. Rock’s eyes glow with crazed lust, but it only tips me further until I explode again with him. A painful cramp seizes my leg, and I jerk on top of him. Because I'm crying out from both the pain in my leg and the pleasure of my orgasm, Rock doesn’t realize something is wrong until he opens his eyes. "Hope, you okay?" "Leg cramp…still coming."

How fucking absurd was this moment? The pleasure subsides, giving way to the torturous tightening in my calf. "Stand up, baby." He helps me dismount and stand, but I still can’t straighten my leg. Rock leans over, kneading my calf muscles and urging me to put my weight on the leg. When it finally stops hurting, I burst into hysterical giggles and tears. "Are you okay?" I collapse on the couch next to him and flex my foot a few times. "I think so. My God, that’s never happened to me before." He strokes my legs a little longer, then pushes off the couch. "Let me get you some water. I’ll be right back." His fingers skim over my cheek before he strides into the kitchen. He returns, jeans zipped but shirt still thankfully off, and hands me a glass of water. The couch cushions roll under his weight as he settles down beside me. The water cools my throat—I hadn’t realized how scratchy it felt. When I’m done, I set the glass on the end table behind me. Rock’s watching me intently. "Better?" "Yes, thank you." It dawns on me that I’m completely naked and don’t care. "Come here." Rock reaches out and tugs my hand. I don’t hesitate to crawl into his lap. Sitting sideways, I loop my arms around his shoulders and kiss his unbruised cheek. His arms anchor me to his lap, his thumb stroking a restless pattern over my hip. The bruising on his face looks worse. "Let me get ice for that," I offer, scooting off his lap. Heavy footsteps follow me into the kitchen. "I would have brought it to you," I tell him without turning around. "It’s okay. I don’t want you out of my sight." My lips curve up in a shy smile. I pull out the freezer drawer, searching for ice, frozen peas…something. I finally find some frozen broccoli. Better than nothing. I glance over at Rock, who’s unlacing his boots by the door. A little thrill shoots through me, as I interpret the act as his intention to stick around. His worn jeans are loose but still give a hint of the firm ass underneath. I have the insane urge to run over and squeeze him. Instead, I find a kitchen towel to wrap around the bag. When I turn around, Rock is right behind me, and I let out a soft squeak. "You’re so stealthy without the boots," I remark. His lips turn up in a grin that quickly turns to a grimace. Gently, I press the freezing package to his face. "Are you going to tell me what happened now?" "No," he answers simply. He takes the bag from my hand, but keeps it pressed to his face. I tamp down my fury. We just had this explosive sex, and he’s been nothing but sweet to me since he got here. We don’t know each other well enough that I’m ready to unleash all my inner bitchiness on him, but I’m pissed that he’s being so cryptic.

My face must betray my anger, because Rock reaches out and traces a finger over my cheek, down my neck, and along my collarbone. His touch sends shivers over my skin, and my nipples tighten in response. Just like that, my rage disappears. I can’t contemplate the effect he has on me right now. Spotting my clothes on the counter behind Rock, I cross the kitchen and jerk them into my hands. "Hey, don’t cover that sexy body." I snort in response. Cold hands curl over my shoulders and turn me around. "Think we can grab a quick shower?" "Yeah, of course." He sets the towel on the counter and places the vegetables back in the freezer. Something profound glitters in his eyes as he holds out his hand to me. I take it and lead him into the hall bathroom. I’m not sure why I don’t take him into the master bath in my bedroom. I’m not ready to have him in the space that Clay and I shared. In fact, guilt over how we defiled my couch starts to poke at me. Clay and I saved for a year to buy that couch and never once had sex on it. I’m not sure what to make of that. Shame washes over me. Rock presses his hands to my cheeks, capturing my attention. "You with me, Hope?" "Yeah." "Got any towels?" I turn my head, realizing I haven’t set foot in this bathroom in more than a year. I’ve had a cleaning person come into the house a couple times, but there’s still a thin layer of dust over some of the fixtures. I open the small closet behind me and pull out two fluffy towels, setting them on the edge of the sink. Rock pulls back the shower curtain, and I bite my lip. Clay’s favorite shampoo and body wash are lined up on the shallow shelf. How could I be so stupid? There’s a reason I never set foot in here. This was Clay’s bathroom. Since he went to work earlier and didn’t want to wake me, he always showered and dressed down here instead of the master bathroom. I’m not sure how to stop this madness brewing inside of me, or how to express to Rock how much I don’t want to be in here. As he waits for the water temperature to adjust, he shucks his jeans. The ass I wanted to grab a few minutes ago is well within my reach, but I can’t do anything about it. My eyes drift up and widen as I take in the full back tattoo. It’s an urban jungle scene featuring a vibrant skull wearing a crown. "Lost Kings MC" curves underneath the scene. "That’s really beautiful," I whisper. Rock twists his torso. "That’s right. You have some exploring to do." My gaze darts up and down his body until he steps into the shower. He holds the curtain open, beckoning me toward him. I poke my head in the closet and grab a hair tie. Twisting my freshly styled hair into a knot, I join Rock in the shower. "Why the pirate ship?" I ask when he turns to face me. His body blocks most of the water spray, so I’m relatively dry where I am.

"MCs are like modern day pirates. At least to me they are." I’m not sure what to make of that. Reddened, bruised skin along his upper chest catches my eye, but I’m not going to ask any more questions. Not when the scent of Clay’s shower gel is filling the space between us. Tears blur my vision. "Hope, are you okay?" "Yeah, I’m just a little tired." "Go ahead and get out, baby. I’ll be done in a sec." Relieved, I get out and wrap a towel around myself, sit down on the closed toilet seat, and let the tears roll silently down my face.

Something happened the minute we walked into the bathroom. Everything about Hope changed. None of the sexy shower games I’d been planning seemed right. I glanced at the bottle of Dove for Men I held in my hand and bit back a curse. I’d been so relieved she hadn’t taken me into her bedroom. It never occurred to me her husband might have used this shower. I want to punch myself for not being more sensitive. In my heart, she’s already my girl, but, I have no idea how she’s processing everything. Besides her permanently in my life, I have no other wants. I need her in my arms, on my skin, in my bed, on my bike every second of every day. I have no idea if she feels the same. Pushing her away in the kitchen probably didn’t help. Hope’s not like other women. She’s not going to accept non-answers from me without pushing for more. Even though she's not quite back to the sharp-tongued lawyer she was when we first met, eventually that side of her personality will return. When I come home beat to fuck, she will demand to know why every single time. Her clever mind and caring heart are what I like and admire most about her, so it's completely unfair for me to hold the truth back. From what I knew, guys either told their old ladies everything or nothing. Bits and pieces of the truth only caused problems. Hope would be the kind of old lady I would have to tell everything to. She would accept nothing less. What I didn’t know was if she could accept me. All of me. Who I was and what I did. Hell, the day we met, I was in handcuffs and shackles, but here we are. I'm not stupid enough to think she’s forgotten about our first encounter. I finally have my shot with her. Now I need to reconcile the Hope I’d built up in my fantasies with the Hope in my reality. So far, real Hope surpasses dream Hope in every way. Soft sniffling reaches my ears, and I snap the shower off. Pulling back the

curtain, I find her huddled on the toilet seat with a towel wrapped around her. Without looking in my direction, she grabs the remaining towel off the sink and hands it to me. I start rubbing the towel over my face and wince when I get to my cheek. "You up for a late-night drive?" I don’t know what else to do except get her out of this house. She sniffles one last time and focuses her eyes on me. "Sure." "You got a backpack?" Her brows squinch together, and she purses her lips in that cute way she does when she’s considering something. "I think so, why?" "Pack some clothes—I want to take you back to my house." A hesitant little pause. "Okay." She stands, tugging the towel around her tighter. I step out of the tub and put my hands on her hips. She reaches up and brushes her lips against mine before leaving. The minute the door closes behind her, I let out a sigh of relief. I’ve got to get us away from all the grief surrounding this place. Hope’s mood improves once we leave her house. My instincts were right to get her out of there. To get us away from whatever ghosts she’s wrangling with. Anytime I’m on my bike, my mindset improves. It’s the freest feeling in the world. Having Hope at my back makes it perfection. We didn’t discuss whatever happened back there. I didn’t bring up the fact that she’d obviously been crying, and she didn’t offer any explanations. She met me in the hallway dressed in jeans, a pair of sexy-ass boots that hugged the curves of her calves and ended just below her knees, and one of my hoodies. A bursting-at-theseams backpack dangled from her hands. Looks like she packed a lot in there. Quite honestly, I was prepared to rent a U-Haul and bring every last one of her belongings to my house right this second. The only thing that unnerved me about that scenario was how little the inclination bothered me. We wind our way into the city. My house is only a few blocks from Crystal Ball. It sits in a nicer part of the city, but isn't anything fancy—a small, brick bungalow with a wide stone front porch. I’d fenced the entire lot in. Pressing a small button on my keys swings the gates open. They click closed behind us once we are safely inside. Motion-sensor lights flicker to life, illuminating the wide driveway and extra large garage I’d installed a year after buying the place. A sophisticated alarm system protects the garage as well as the house. Between tools, bikes, and parts, I actually have more of value in the garage than in my entire house. Although I want to show her my personal workspace some day, right now I want to get her inside. I haven’t been to my house in a few days, and although I left it tidy, it’s a bit stuffy. Hope stands in my mudroom, watching me toe off my boots. Her hands fidget with the backpack, so I ease it from her shoulders and take her hand. "You want a tour?"

She tips her head up, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Sure." The first room we enter is the kitchen, and she stops in her tracks. "My goodness." My lips quirk at the awe in her voice. The kitchen isn’t large by any standard, but it’s ample enough. I had wide granite counters and top-of-the-line appliances installed, because when the mood strikes me, I enjoy cooking. There hasn’t been anyone I wanted to cook for in a very long time now. My favorite part of the kitchen is the built-in corner booth and table. It’s nestled into a large bay window and can seat eight. Most mornings when I’m actually here, I end up eating perched on one of the bar stools lining the island counter. "It’s lovely," she finally says. "I’ll whip up a nice breakfast for you in the morning." "The big, bad biker cooks?" "The big, bad biker does lots of things," I correct. I tug her into the living room. Typical single guy room. Even though I hardly watch television, there’s a large screen against one wall. A leather sectional takes up the opposite side. We pass a half bath. The guest room is really just more storage space for bike parts. I lead her upstairs. My bedroom is very similar to the one at the club. Hope stifles a yawn as she crosses the threshold, and a bit of guilt pricks me. I’m used to being up all hours of the night, but clearly she’s not. While I’m all keyed up, she looks like she’s ready to keel over. "Come ‘ere, doll." I sit on the edge of the bed and pull her to me. Reaching for her boots, I pull the side zipper slowly down her leg. One warm hand braces against my shoulder while I help her out of the boots. Barefoot in her tight jeans and my over-sized hoodie, she appears much younger and very fragile. The certainty that I am made to take care of this woman punches me in the gut. "Did you bring that sexy little outfit to sleep in?" "No." A shy smile plays over her lush lips. "Hmmm, what are you planning to sleep in, then?" Her gaze drops to the floor. Her timid act isn’t an act at all. She really is very reserved. When she doesn’t answer, I lift the hoodie up, pulling it over her head. Underneath, she’s wearing a pale blue tank top, and it’s clear she didn’t bother with a bra. Saliva pools on my tongue. "I can sleep in this," she murmurs. Yes—yes, she can. Or nothing at all. I reach for the button of her jeans, then help her peel the material off her legs. She has these bright blue boy-cut cotton panties on. It’s a lot more material than I usually prefer in a woman’s underwear, but they suit Hope. Without thinking, I reach out and trace my fingers along her hip bones. She recoils. "I didn’t realize how much weight I’d lost," she whispers. "You’ve had a hard year, Hope, but you’re beautiful no matter what." I stand and pull her to me. The way she melts in my arms stirs something in me.

More than just my cock, although he is also ready to come out and play. I reach down and pull the covers back. "Go ahead and get in. I’m going to lock up and shut the lights off." Obediently she crawls into my bed and snuggles down under the blankets. I rush through my nightly routine, eager to get back to my girl. The sound of her breathing tells me she’s already asleep when I return. I strip everything off in the dark and get in next to her. Happy and content are inadequate words to describe my state of mind. Staring at the ceiling, I think about how many times in the last two years I fantasized about having her in my bed just like this. It’s similar to how I felt as a kid every year before Christmas, except instead of being disappointed when that fat, jolly bastard skipped my house, this time I have everything I want. I roll over and pull her to me. She sighs and wriggles against me. It’s a long time before I can fall asleep. All night I dream about Hope, even though I’m holding her in my arms. Before I’m fully awake, it registers that my hand is in her panties and I’m stroking the smooth skin of her freshly waxed mound. She sighs and turns slightly, spreading her legs. My eyes snap open. It’s still darkish in my bedroom. My fingers trace lower, slipping in the moisture I find. Fuck. My middle finger slides in between her folds and presses into her pussy. I marvel that I ever fit my cock in her—she’s so damn tight. My head falls against her chest. Her plump nipples are standing up straight under her thin tank top. I take one between my teeth and tease it with my tongue through the material. A sharp intake of breath above tells me she’s finally awake. "Rock?" she asks, her voice groggy. "Yeah, baby. Stay right there." Pulling my hand away from her is excruciating, especially when she arches her back at the loss of my fingers inside her. I roll to the side and snatch a condom out of my nightstand. She tries to turn and face me, but I hold her in place with one arm, while rolling on the condom with my other hand. Mercifully, she wriggles out of her panties, and I strip off her tank top. We’re nothing but hot skin on skin. My leg sneaks between hers, and I pull her thigh over mine, opening her wide. "Stay like that." "Yes," she breathes. I line up and sink into her from behind. My hand covers her, my fingers finding her clit and drawing slow circles around it. She moans in response and starts thrusting back against me. My other arm is trapped beneath her, but my hand finds her nipple and rolls it between my fingers until she’s thrashing against me. My assault on her clit is relentless until she jerks in my arms. Her head is thrown back, mouth open, and she’s strangling my cock while she comes. I bring my hand to her chin and turn her head so I can take her mouth. She kisses me back with such force, I’m gone. I push her onto her stomach, throwing the pillows out of the way as we roll. It’s still not enough. I grip her hips and pull her to her knees. Her shoulders press into the mattress.

"Up, baby, I want to see your tits swing." She gives me the oddest look over her shoulder, but complies. Fuck, she’s so fucking hot on all fours just for me that I just pound into her like a mad man. "Fuck. Can’t get enough. You’re so fucking hot like this." My hands curl over her shoulders as I keep fucking her. She’s screaming and panting and jerking in my grasp. Her pussy clamps around me, sending me over the edge. Gone. Just fucking gone. After, she snuggles into my side. It’s like our bodies are made for each other. She presses these tender little kisses against my face and neck. The sweetness of this woman is going to be my undoing. "Thank you for knowing I needed to get out of my house and bringing me here," she whispers between kisses. My arm is curled around her back and my hand spread over her hip. I glance down at her. "Do you want to talk about it?" "Do you want to hear it?" "I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t." She seems to consider that for a minute before speaking. "You said this could be whatever I wanted. But, I have to know. Or I think you should know. I can’t be. I can’t do casual hookups. If that’s all this is for you, please just tell me now before…" She stops her stumbling little speech and buries her head in my side. "I’m sorry," she mumbles against my skin. "Baby, look at me." When she finally does, I continue. "This isn’t casual for me." I want to say more. I want to tell her that I decided a year ago she would be mine and I haven’t even looked at another woman since, but I realize that’s going to sound a little crazy and stalkerish, so I swallow that admission down. "I could never be casual with you," I clarify. Some of the tension drains from her body. "I’m just feeling a little sad and guilty, I guess." "I understand. Why don’t you get a little more rest. It’s still pretty early. We can talk more in the morning." She nods against my chest, all her long, silky hair teasing my skin. I’m so thankful she’s in my arms, but I can’t help but notice Clay’s death did a number on my girl. She’s definitely lost that feisty streak that got me so worked up when we first met. This softer, more vulnerable version of Hope calls to every protective instinct I have inside me.

13

Sunlight streams through a tiny break in the curtains. Stretching out my arms on

either side, I determine I’m alone in Rock’s bed. Disappointment washes over me. Waking up with him earlier had been divine, and I can’t say I wasn’t wishing for a repeat. Murmuring voices reach my ear, and I assume he’s downstairs watching television. My tank top is tangled somewhere in the sheets, but I find it and slip it on. I find my little boy shorts down on the floor where I kicked them earlier and shimmy those on too. After a stop in the bathroom to freshen up, I head downstairs. Just as I come into the living room, I realize it’s not the television. Rock has company over. "Fu—" I turn and try to scramble back up the stairs, but trip, landing painfully on my knee. "Hope, are you okay?" Rock comes rushing up behind me. "Stay there," he says to whoever is in the living room. I think it was that guy, Z, but I’m not sure. Rock’s hand touches my back, and I tip my head up. "I thought you were watching television. I didn’t realize someone was here, or I would have put more clothes on," I say miserably. Rock’s face breaks into a huge grin, and he chuckles. Then his strong arms are around me, picking me up and hoisting me in the air. "You’re going to hurt your back," I warn. "Please, Hope, you barely weigh anything," he answers, sounding pretty insulted. "I’m so embarrassed." "Don’t be. Z got an eyeful of your sweet ass. Now, I have to punch him in the face a few times. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll agree it was worth it." "Don’t you dare!" I yelp as he sets me down on the bed. He kneels down in front of me, gingerly touching my knee. "When you’re dressed, come downstairs so I can put some ice on this." The concern in his voice tugs at my heart. "Thank you," I whisper. He places a gentle kiss on my knee and stands.

I shimmy into my jeans. If I can just find a shirt…Rock’s setup here is similar to the one at his clubhouse, so I pull open one of the dresser drawers and find his stash of T-shirts. Feeling a little strange pawing through his things, I grab the first one I touch—black with a Harley logo on the front. It almost reaches my knees, but at least I’m covered. Just in case he plans to carry out his threat and beat Z up, I hurry downstairs. They’re huddled in the kitchen in the middle of a serious conversation. Both of them glance up as I step into the room. I’m too embarrassed to meet Z’s eyes. I mumble hello, but keep my gaze focused on Rock. "Hey, Hope." "Hi, Z." I chance a quick look at him. "Well, I’m gonna get going. Sorry I intruded," he says with a smirk. Rock punches him in the arm, making Z wince, then laugh. As soon as the door closes behind him, Rock motions me over. Wrapping myself in his arms chases any lingering unease away. "I borrowed one of your shirts. I hope that’s okay?" I murmur into his chest. His hands are absently rubbing circles over my back. "It’s more than okay, baby. You can have anything of mine you want." Wow. He said it sort of off the cuff, but those words turned me inside out. "Now, you must be starving, so have a seat and let me make you breakfast." His hands move to my waist, and he pops me into one of the bar stools lined up along the island in the kitchen. Opening the freezer, he takes out one of those blue ice packs and brings it over to me. I take it and set it on my knee, and instantly the sting starts to fade. If I’d been home, most likely I would have ignored or forgotten about the minor injury, but with Rock looking after me, that was impossible. Watching this big, bad biker crack eggs into a bowl, sauté onions and potatoes, and toast bread really gets to me. His T-shirt fits snugly over his heavily muscled back, and because he’s facing the stove, I’m able to openly admire him. Watching him work in the kitchen gets me so hot and bothered that by the time he sets my plate in front of me, I’m practically panting. "You okay?" I mumble an affirmative answer around a mouthful of eggs. "So good." I manage to force out before attacking the crispy potatoes. We eat in silence. After a few minutes, I push my plate away. "I’m so stuffed." Rock stares at me in awe. "You barely ate anything." I shrug. "It’s a lot for me." "You need to keep your energy up, babe." "Oh yeah?" He nods, finishes his coffee, and slides off his stool. Taking my hand, he leads me outside and across the wet grass. He pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and opens the side door to the massive garage taking up a good portion of his side and back yard. "I want to show you my workshop."

Okay, now I’m intrigued. Besides running the strip club and his motorcycle club —which now that I think about it is a hell of a lot more than a "club"—I wasn’t really sure what else he did. Of course, once we were inside, I felt silly for even wondering, because the space is filled with motorcycles in various stages of puttogether-ness. He walks me through each project. Considering he uses the space to work on what should be filthy vehicles, the garage is surprisingly clean. It hurts like lightning when I step on an upturned piece of metal with my bare foot. "Ow!" "Fuck. I forgot you weren’t wearing shoes." In true Rock fashion, he sweeps me into his arms, sitting me down on the counter lining one wall of his garage. The pain is so intense I fear blood’s spurting everywhere. As Rock picks my foot up to examine it, I breathe a sigh of relief that everything is intact. For a few minutes, he works on rubbing the sting away before setting my foot down. Slowly he leans, placing one hand at the back of my head to angle my head for a kiss, and then seizes my lips. The sensual assault on my mouth ends abruptly, and he rains kisses down my neck until the T-shirt I’d borrowed gets in his way. He tugs it up and drops it on the counter next to me. My tank top doesn’t make much of an obstacle either—he simply slips the straps off my shoulders and pulls the material down, exposing my breasts to his hungry gaze and ferocious mouth. The pain in my foot becomes a distant memory. The slow, seductive, teasing licks and kisses feel so good I squirm against him. Wanting, no, needing more. His hand dives between my thighs, the heel grinding against the seam of my jeans. Dear God, not quite enough pressure to get me off. But still so fucking good. The scent of Rock, his strength and skill—all of it overwhelms my senses. His body covers mine, and his hands work in between us to unfasten my jeans and tug them down my body. My eyes flutter open, taking in the open side door. I want to tell him to slow down, his neighbors might see, but he shoves a finger inside me and my head lolls back. He keeps seeking, stroking until he’s pressed deep and finds that perfect spot that sends little shudders through my body. He adds another finger and oh, they keep rubbing that secret place. Dropping to his knees, he places my feet on his strong shoulders, spreading me wide, and sucks my clit into his mouth. The pressure, his flicking tongue, his magical fucking fingers—all of it makes me squirm, but he uses one hand across my stomach to hold me down and keeps up his seductive torture. The panting and moaning noises filling my ears are coming from my own mouth. My back arches as I explode in a powerful climax. Neighbors be damned because a scream rips from my throat and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Rock stands up slowly, letting my feet fall but pressing my knees to his hips. He rubs his hands along my body from exposed breasts to bare pussy. His arms slip around my waist, and he gathers me close, then drops his head to suck my nipple into his mouth.

A noise startles me out of my sex haze, and my eyes drift open…to see Wrath standing in the doorway. Arms folded across his chest, watching us. Waiting. My mouth opens to warn Rock or protest, but at that moment, his teeth bite down just enough on the tip of my nipple that my head falls back and a moan escapes instead of a warning. Watching us. I struggle and push against Rock, trying to pull my tank top into place. Wrath is still standing there with a lazy grin stretched across his lips. "Don’t worry about me, darling. Nothing I haven’t seen before," he says with a wink. Rock stands and spins so fast I’m almost thrown off the counter. His body shields me from view, and I’m grateful. I hike up the straps of my tank top. "What the fuck!" he explodes. Clearly shocked at his friend’s outburst, Wrath backs up a few steps. Good grief, they really do watch each other. I scramble into my T-shirt. My jeans are on the floor, so for the moment the T-shirt is all that’s covering me. My cheeks burn with the sting of a nasty sunburn. Sensing danger, Wrath holds out his hands. "Sorry. Door was open. I tried calling you." "Out," Rock barks. Wisely, Wrath backs out and shuts the door on his way. I can’t help but burst into tears. "Shhh. Hope, it’s okay. I’m sorry I got carried away." "I can’t believe I’ve embarrassed myself in front of two of your friends already today!" I wail. "Baby. You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re beautiful. You’re mine. Don’t worry about it." "But you’ve done stuff together before?" Rock’s spine stiffens. "Please don’t tell me a three-way interests you, baby. I’ve known him more than half my life. He’s like a brother, but right now the thought of him touching you makes me want to slit his throat." "No. God, no!" He growls and takes my mouth in another one of his blistering kisses. The ferocity of his words and kiss should scare the shit out of me, but they don’t. In fact, his intensity turns me on, burning right through any lingering shame at being caught. He breaks our kiss and picks up my jeans, handing them to me. I clutch them to my chest since it’s too awkward to put them on while I’m sitting on the counter. Rock seems to understand my hesitation to jump back down onto the concrete floor where I stepped on who knows what before, so he picks me up and carries me outside and into the house. In the mudroom, he sets me down so I can step into my jeans. Entering the kitchen, we find Wrath at the counter. He looks up and gives me

a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Hope." My mouth twitches in a nervous smile, but I can’t form any words. Rock glares at his friend and nudges me inside. "What are you doing here?" "I gotta talk to you." "You’re killing me. I already dealt with shit this morning with Z." "This is about something else." Wrath’s eyes skip to me and then back to Rock. Taking the hint, I give Rock a quick kiss on the cheek. "I’m going to go upstairs and take a shower." Feeling a little bolder now, I motion him toward me and whisper in his ear. "Join me when you’re done." He makes this low, growly noise in his throat that sends tingles through my belly.

I know I need to deal with whatever has Wrath standing in my kitchen looking all twitchy. But I don't want to. I want to be upstairs in the shower with Hope. Soaping up her slick body, sucking on her hard nipples, and slamming my dick into her hot little pussy. The few seconds out in the garage before we were so rudely interrupted weren’t nearly enough. "Prez, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—" I cut him off to make things crystal clear. "Hope is off limits to you. I am not fucking around on this. You ever look at her in anything other than a friendly way, and I will fuck you up. You treat her with respect." Wrath stares at me for a while before answering. "Got it. Maybe next time, you know, shut the fuckin’ door or something," he adds. Laughter I didn’t want to indulge in tugs the corners of my mouth up. "Yeah. Didn’t mean to get carried away out there." "I get it, bro. Chopped hogs, hot girl—" He stops when he catches me glaring at him. "What? I can’t notice how hot she is in a friendly, respectable way?" he taunts, throwing my words back at me with a grin. Asshole. I consider kicking his ass, but it seems like a lot of work when I have Hope waiting for me upstairs, with any luck, naked. "Make this quick so I can go soap up my woman." One corner of his mouth twists in a knowing smirk, but he wisely chooses not to

comment. "We’ve got a big problem." "Jesus, we always have big problems. What is it this time?" "The brother of that fucker we took care of last year is in the area asking questions." "You’re going to need to be more specific." "Viper. But this is like an actual blood brother, not club brother." "And he’s just now getting around to looking for the prick?" Wrath shrugs. "He just got paroled." "Goddammit. How many came with him?" "Don’t know." "Fuck! We really don’t need this now. We finally have peace between all three clubs." "Got that, brother," he agrees. "He wants a meeting on neutral ground." I glance up at the ceiling, envisioning all that soapy water sliding off Hope’s body. The last thing I need on my hands was another damn war with the Vipers. "Nothing is neutral here." He shrugs. "Get everyone over to Crystal Ball. Call some of the Nomads in and a few of the downstate guys. See how long it will take them to get up here. I’ll call Ulfric." "You’re gonna bring the Wolf Knights in on this?" "Fuck, yeah. They need to know if shit’s about to blow up right next door to them." I stop and run my fingers through my hair, planning out the next few steps I need to take. "I need to get Hope home." "You better warn her." Fuck. "Warn me about what?" No, no, no. But yes, Hope’s standing in the doorway dressed in jeans and a thin blue v-neck sweater, her hair damp and curling around her pale face. Wrath eye-fondles her for about five seconds too long, prompting me to clear my throat. Goddamn—he never quits. "Go," I growl at Wrath. He shoots me a look that clearly says he’s glad not to be the one who has to stick around and explain this bullshit to Hope. "I’ll get everyone together and send a prospect out to her house." Motherfucker. I give him a murder glare, and he darts out the door. Hope crosses her arms over her chest, lifting her breasts, momentarily distracting me. "Up here, Rock," she says, pointing two fingers at my eyes and then back at hers, a slight smile on her lips. Good, she’s not pissed. Yet. "A situation has come up with the club that I need to take care of." "Strippers or Motorcycle?" I huff out a laugh. "Motorcycle."

"Okay. What is the situation?" "It’s too long to get into right now." "Give me the condensed version." "There's a rival club we had some issues with about two years ago. I thought things were settled, but someone has come up from another charter asking questions." "That’s as clear as mud." "It’s the best I can do right now." Her face lights up with understanding, and I dread the question she’s about to toss out. "Does this have something to do with Glassman’s shooting and what you did to me back in Slater City Court?" "Sort of." "Am I in danger?" Fuck me, but this woman is too smart for my own good. "I don’t think so." "You don’t think so?" she asks, disbelief dripping from each word. Running my fingers through my hair, I’m stunned by how much this woman affects me already. "You shouldn’t be." Because I put the two assholes who knew about you in the ground sixteen months ago. But I keep that last bit to myself. I don’t think she would appreciate the thoughtfulness of the gesture. "Why does Wrath know where I live?" I can lie and say he doesn’t, but I have an uncanny feeling she’ll know. "Back when you first started doing work for me, I got some information that the Vipers had taken an unusual interest in you. So until that situation resolved itself, I used to send the guys over to be sure you were safe." Her jaw drops, and she stares at me. "You put my life in danger? What if one of them had approached me at the office or when I was leaving court, in the parking garage?" Her voice rises with each word until she’s close to screaming decibels. "You didn’t think to warn me?" "I needed to assess the situation. The best course of action was doing what I did that day in the courtroom." Her eyes bug out even more. "That’s why you embarrassed me and almost ruined my career?" she asks with very little heat behind the words. I round the counter and put my arms around her. Thank fuck she lets me and doesn’t push me away like I feared she might. "I am so sorry for that, baby. You have no idea how much I hated every second. The look on your face almost killed me. I just didn’t see another way. But you weren’t mine to protect then. If…if things had been different, I would have had you up at the clubhouse on lockdown with everyone else until it was safe." "You could have warned me. Something." She sniffs and buries her head in my chest. "The less you knew, the safer you were." It’s true but inadequate. Smoothing my hand over her damp hair, I think of how to make this right.

"I think one of them called me," she says, her voice muffled by my shirt. Curling my hands over her shoulders, I gently push her away so she can continue. "A short while after that incident, someone called saying you gave him my name. I told him we had parted ways, and he asked who your—" She gasps and squeezes her eyes shut. "I gave him Glassman’s name. Am I the reason he got shot?" "No. They would have found out some other way." By her expression, it’s obvious I’m not very convincing. "What do we do now?" "I’m going to take you home. You’ll be fine. There is absolutely no reason to connect you to me right now. Hoot will either be there when I drop you off or shortly after." She lifts her lips at the mention of the prospect’s name. "Do you have any weapons in the house?" "No! God, no." "Do you even know how to use a gun?" "Absolutely not." Fuck. I was afraid of this. How could she live alone so unprotected? She didn’t even have a damn dog to alert her to trouble. "All right. We’ll deal with that another time. As soon as I take this meeting, I’ll come by your place. Pack some stuff, because we’re going to go up to the clubhouse for a few days until things calm down." She opens her mouth to argue, but I shake my head. "This isn’t negotiable." "Fine. But no more secrets, Rock. I won’t tolerate it." "No more secrets," I agree, not quite sure I’ll be able to keep that promise.

14

I ’m far from satisfied with Rock’s answers, but I know it’s all I’m going to get out

of him. He’s cagey when we leave. We take his black SUV instead of the bike. His gaze darts all over the place to check the yard and street out before he let me leave the house and get into the vehicle. The entire way to my house, he constantly scans the rearview mirror. It drives me nuts. I’m furious at him. I’m scared for him. Obviously something big happened, and I feel helpless to offer anything of use to him. When we pull into my driveway, he gets out and comes around to open my door. Taking my hand, he helps me out of the SUV and walks me into the house. "Do you want something to eat before you leave?" He runs his hand through his hair while we stand in the kitchen. "I better go." "Okay." Not sure what to do, I stand there twisting my fingers in the edge of my T-shirt. "Come here." He pulls me into his arms and captures my lips in a searing kiss. Before we get carried away, he pulls back. "Everything is going to be okay. I promise." I nod, and he releases me. One foot out the door, he turns to stare at me one last time, and then he’s gone. Anxiety rips through me. I can’t bear the thought of losing someone else I care about. As soon as he clears my driveway, I pick up the phone to call Sophie. She’s there within the hour. My problem is that I think I’m in love with Rock. It’s insane because, well, it’s insane. I just lost my husband. I’m the worst wife ever. Disloyal and rotten. The fact that I knew Rock before Clay died bothers me the most. If we had just met now, I don’t think I would have been so conflicted. Deep down, I know I had feelings for him even before Clay died. Sophie wants every last detail. I end up disclosing enough to shut her up for a while. "So, what’s the problem?" she asks.

I can’t keep it inside anymore. "I feel like it’s my fault Clay died." "What? That’s crazy." "I know. But, I knew Rock, and we had that kiss. I still thought about him all the time. I feel like I caused Clay’s death by wanting someone else." Oh my God. Did I just say that out loud? Instead of relieving some of the guilt, it expands, filling my chest with crushing pain. Sophie doesn’t tell me what an evil bitch I am. She wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tight. "You’re one of the sweetest, most caring people I know. Clay was wonderful. Anyone around you for two seconds knew how much you guys loved each other. I am so sorry he’s gone. He never should have died so young. But, it is not your fault." "But—" "No." "But, if I—" "No. Honey, the doctors told you. There was no way to know. He could have gotten hit by a bus, hell, he could have hit a tree skiing, or fell off a bridge at work. A thousand things can happen to any one of us at any time. It doesn’t mean you can never be happy again." "It’s barely been a year, though. Isn’t that wrong?" "No. Says who? If it feels right, what does it matter?" Oh, it felt right. That was part of the problem. I couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before, and that’s where a lot of my guilt sprang from. Her advice sounds eerily similar to Rock’s response when I posed the same questions to him. "Well, the other part is his club. It seems like they’re into dangerous stuff." I didn’t dare bring up what had gone on earlier. I didn’t want to end up endangering my friend. "You know, I took an oath to uphold the law and all." Now I have Sophie’s attention. "Okay. That’s a different problem. I don’t know a lot about MCs. Jonny is familiar with them. He definitely said Lost Kings are someone you don’t want to fuck with." "Jonny knows?" Sophie’s gaze darts away from mine for a second. "Sure, I mentioned it." "He wants me to learn how to use a gun, Sophie. That’s nuts." Whoops. Wrong person to voice that opinion to. Her eyebrows draw down. "You realize my boyfriend is part-owner of a gun store, right? And that I’ve been target shooting since I was twelve? I’ll take you to the range and give you some lessons if you want." Actually that’s not a bad idea. "Yeah, well, what if things don’t work out between us? Then I have to worry about his club coming after me? Some of those guys are scary." She let out a hearty laugh. "Some of those guys are scary? You’ve seen Rock, right? He’s the scariest motherfucker in any room." I chuckle, understanding how she might see him that way. "I don’t think it works like that. You said Rock was married before, right? His

ex-wife is still breathing. You said that other guy you did the work for, his wife is still around causing trouble for him." That didn’t exactly ease my mind. "Look," she said in what I recognized as her patient lawyer voice. "If Clay hadn’t died, you never would have taken up with, Rock, right?" "Of course not." "Then stop feeling guilty. Just enjoy. He may be into some shady things, but honey, you know as well as I do, lawyers are some of the shadiest fucking people on the planet." I shake my head. She shares my dislike of ninety-nine percent of our colleagues. "Does he make you happy?" I can answer that right away. "Yes." Sophie’s eyes water, and she swipes at them. "Good. You scared me for a bit, you know? I miss my feisty buttercup. Life isn’t the same without your snarky little zingers." Now I’m going to cry. "Sophie, I’m not one hundred percent back to my old self. I don’t think I ever will be, boyfriend or not. I love you, though, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me." She sniffles a bit, which is very out of character for Sophie, so it really crashes into me how much I’ve worried her this last year. "I love you too. And, this stuff with Rock? The most important thing is he’s good for you, and he obviously cares about you a lot. Try not to stress out over all the incidentals." After our heart-to-heart, we called for a pizza and the delivery guy ended up in my driveway at the same time as Hoot. He paid the driver for us and brought the food inside. "Sorry it took me so long," he says, throwing a glance at Sophie. "No problem," I answer, still confused about why he’s even in my house. Sophie raises her eyebrows at me, but I’m not sure how to explain his presence, so I just tell her he’s a friend of Rock’s. After dinner, she pulls me aside. "Something is going on, isn’t it? Why else is he sending a guy to babysit you?" "It’s not babysitting." "I don’t want to know the details. Why don’t you come home with me?" I want to dismiss her suggestion right away, but something stops me. I’m annoyed that Rock didn’t tell me the whole truth. I’m terrified that this is moving too fast, and I’m headed into something that’s going to be more than I can handle. "Okay." For the second day in a row, I find myself in my room, packing up an overnight bag. I send Rock a quick text. Going to go stay at Sophie’s. I wait a few minutes, staring at my screen, but get nothing. The lack of response cements my decision. I stride out to the kitchen where Sophie waits, keys in hand. She tilts her head in

the direction of the living room where Hoot’s busy watching television. "Hey, Hoot, Sophie and I are going out. You can head back up to the club." He strides into the kitchen, running his hands through his hair. "Uh, Prez wanted me to stay here and keep an eye on you," he says, his gaze darting back and forth between Sophie and me. It’s obvious he’s unsure of how much he should say in front of her. "Well, I’m fine. I’m going to be at Sophie’s house, so there’s no need for you to stay here." I pull my phone out of my pocket. Still no response from Rock. Screw this. "Okay." He hesitates for a moment, then throws his vest on and holds the door open for us. Sophie giggles as soon as we’re in her car. "I hope Rock doesn’t kick his ass." It never occurred to me that my little jailbreak could get Hoot in trouble. With no reply from Rock by the time we get to Sophie’s house, I’m pissed. I power down my phone before getting out of the car. I’m going to have a girl’s night and enjoy it. After dropping my stuff off, we decide to go to a movie. I let Sophie pick because I just want something to take my mind off things, and don't really care what we watch. Unfortunately, she thought a steamy romantic thriller was the way to go. It just makes me miss Rock more and wonder what he was up to. I sneak into the bathroom and turn my phone back on, only to find there is still no reply from him. Immediately, I hate myself. Now instead of being mad at him for not calling, I’m worried something has happened to him. I don’t need this shit. I don’t want to be one of those annoying girls who blows up her boyfriend’s phone every time he’s out of her sight. But if something happens to him, I’ll never forgive myself. Maybe I need to end this before I get in any deeper? But who am I kidding? I’m already neck deep.

"Fuck! Stay on her and keep me updated." I’m so furious I punch the steering wheel as the line goes dead. "Fucking hell." Wrath is silent next to me. He heard the report from the prospect over the Bluetooth. "She doesn’t listen too well," he points out. "Shut up." "Get mad all you want, prez. But if you want to make her your ol’ lady, you better start explaining shit to her soon," Wrath continues calmly as if I hadn’t spoken. This is true, but I don’t want to hear it right now. "She’s probably better off at

her friend’s house anyway. No turf wars up there." Z leans over my seat and slaps my shoulder. "When we’re done with this shit, go spank her fine fuckin’ ass and teach her a lesson." Wrath bursts out laughing before he gives Z a shove back. "Christ, you’re going to get us all killed when he rolls this cage trying to murder your stupid fuckface." I watch Z smirking in the backseat, and I really wish I had a spare second to smash him in the jaw. "You ever look at her ass again, I’m going to feed you your cock." "What are you mad at me for? I heard Wrath got to see a lot more than her hot ass," Z growls. "Thanks, dickhead," Wrath mumbles. "Would you two stop trying to piss me off? We need to fucking focus. And by the way, Z, don’t think I don’t know you took Big Tits home the other night. I heard she wasn’t too impressed." Wrath bellows with laughter and punches the door. "Oh, shit. He can’t stop yapping about her either." "That so?" I ask. I flick another glance at my VP. Not smirking now. "Fuck both of you." "Not so funny now, is it, Z?" "Trinny tell you who her date was with?" Wrath asks out of nowhere. I slide my gaze to him. His arms are folded over his chest, and he’s staring straight out the window. "No. I think she just said it to piss you off. Leave her alone. She doesn’t need your shit." "That an order?" Wrath asks. "No. It’s friendly advice. That girl is the closest I’ve ever had to a sister, and I’m tired of watching you fuck with her head." "As long as she keeps giving head," Z quips. When neither of us laugh, Z settles back in the seat, grumbling to himself. Wrath is not done beating this dead horse apparently. "Why is she dating outside the club anyway?" Christ, like I don't have enough guilt over their fuckedupedness. "Who says she is?" As we approach Crystal Ball, I put an end to our little feelings session. At least thirty bikes fill the parking lot—a much bigger turn out than I expected. Things could get ugly quick. Thank fuck I’d had Blue shut the place down and send all the dancers home. I breathe a sigh of relief as I pull around back. I recognize most of the bikes. The Wolf Knights have also decided to join the party. That’s good. We need to put this shit to bed once and for all. Guys are grumbling about the lack of pussy at a nudie bar when we walk in. Tough shit. I’m not leaving my girls to get molested by these rowdy fuckers.

They’re my employees, not fucking party favors. The Wolf Knights are holed up at a corner table. Their president has his back pressed right up against the wall. Not sure why he feels so unsafe in my club, but whatever. I say hello to the visiting Lost Kings members because they are my priority. Finally, Wrath and I make it to Ulfric’s table. He, his VP Merlin, and sergeant-at-arms, a guy named Whisper of all things, stand to greet us as well. Wrath’s in full-on enforcer mode as he takes his place behind me. Other Wolf Knights are mingling with our guys, but Wrath is still on alert. This is why he’s my sergeant-at-arms. I open my mouth to tell Ulfric why I’ve dragged him over here, but he cuts me off. "I think I know what you’re going to tell me." I raise an eyebrow so he’ll continue. "Cabo? One of those Viper fucks from downstate came to see me this morning after he got in touch with. . ." he points at Wrath. "Okay." "He had it in his head that Lost Kings had something to do with the disappearance of his brother." I shrug. Ulfric knows the story. No need to confirm it. "I explained to this gangsterfuck that his brother made the mistake of targeting ladies associated with both clubs and stressed how inappropriate that was." Ulfric kills me sometimes. "He did not share the same views." Oh, fuck. "I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but that one, Spider? That’s the fuck who…" he pauses and looks away "…attacked my sister-in-law two years ago. If you hadn’t done me the favor, I would have taken him out myself. She’s completely innocent. My brother never wanted anything to do with this life. Kept his family far away. Never at the clubhouse. Nothing. And they still got hurt because of me. Can’t see my nieces anymore, thanks to those fuckers." Shit. I had not been aware of any of that. Just random stories that floated around. Rumors. Spider and his sidekick turned out to be two sick, twisted fuckers, and I don’t lose any sleep over the fact that they’re rotting in the ground. I suspect Cabo is somewhere at the bottom of the Hudson River. Not going to lose sleep over that either. "Anyway, I wanted you to know it was taken care of." He shakes his head. "One of these days, you and I are going to have to sit down and discuss exterminating the snake problem in Ironworks altogether. We can split up their action." "Nah, they’re into hard shit I don’t want to touch. But I wouldn’t mind getting rid of them once and for all. I thought Shaggy was going to run shit a little better, but seems he’s as big a bitch as the last one." Ulfric snorts. "He’s pissed you won’t let them trick here." Interesting. "Uh-uh. Fuck that. Let him keep that shit in Ironworks."

"I agree." "Fuck. He can’t even run his own shit, and he’s worried about dipping into mine?" "He’s been trying to push into Slater too. Fuckers have no code. Shit, man, even outlaws and straight-up thieves need to have honor among themselves. Otherwise, it’s all bloodshed and no time to enjoy our freedom." I’ve always liked Ulfric. Our clubs have clashed in the past, but we’re solid now. He’s got about fifteen years on me. He’s more an old-school gentleman outlaw if there is such a thing. His club is knee-deep in illegal shit like the rest of us, but he still believes in doing business a certain way, which I respect. He also holds women in higher regard than the average outlaw biker. Unfortunately for us, in time the Vipers are going to be a problem. Fighting another MC was normal. Sort of. There were turf wars all the time. Bad blood between clubs that ran decades. But we fought by certain rules and knew what to expect from one another. Vipers were different. No rules. No honor. Everyone was expendable. It seemed like every time we cut one snake down, another one popped up in its place. Since I called all these guys in, I can’t exactly send them home empty-handed. Ulfric calls some of his club girls to join us, which is a big help. I call Trinity. "Can you gather up the girls and bring them down to CB? I can use your skills at the bar, too, if you don't mind sticking around." She doesn’t hesitate. "Sure. You need me to bring beer?" "Fuck. Yes. Please. Hoot’s busy. Get the new prospect, Birch, to help you out." One of New York’s many charming quirks is that since we’re a totally nude strip club, we can’t serve alcohol. What little might be kicking around here isn’t going to last a minute. Trinity must have covered the phone, but I still hear her yell to the others to "freshen their shit up and haul their asses down to CB," which makes me chuckle. When she comes back on the line, she’s giggling. "Swan’s excited. She wants to dance." "I don’t think the guys are going to be into her Nutcracker ballet bullshit, Trinny." "Please, bitch is limber as fuck, you should see what she can do on a pole," she informs me. That’s a mental picture I didn’t need. "Can you also run downstairs and get a couple zips from Sparky? Make sure it’s dank, and don’t let him give you any shit. Split it up between the girls so none of you are holding more than two." "Got it." I disconnect and tap at my phone. I find two texts from Hope. I’m a little pissed she didn’t listen to me, but as long as I know she’s safe, I’ll deal with her later. "What the fuck are you bringing Trinity here for?" Wrath snarls in my ear, scaring the fuck out of me. For such a big fucker, he moves silently when he wants

to.

He crosses his arms over his chest and waits for me to answer. "What the fuck you think? She’s bringing some of the girls down, and she’s going to run the bar." "That all she’s helping with?" "That’s up to her, dickhead. Unless there’s something you want to fill me in on?" He storms off without answering. Moody bastard. Bless Trinity’s heart, she’s here in thirty-five minutes. Enough time for me to make the rounds, set up some deals, and gather some info before the guys get restless. Birch follows her in with beer. I show her into my office, where she unloads the baggies of bud. "Fuck, Trin, that’s way over what I told you to bring. I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if you got pulled over." Her mouth turns down, and I want to kick myself for being so sharp with her. "Sorry. You said there were like forty guys here." Shaking my head, I give her a quick hug. "You know how upset I’d be if something happened to you, right?" That brings a smile back to her face. "Yeah, but you’d take care of me like you always have." I give her a stern stare, but there’s a smile playing at the corner of my mouth that makes her eyes roll. "Go get behind the bar. Oh, heads up. I have a feeling you’re going to have a bodyguard tonight." The corners of her mouth twitch up, but then she stops it and rolls her eyes. "Here, I brought this for you." She pulls a small bottle of my favorite scotch out of her purse. Even though I wasn’t planning to drink tonight, I’m touched she thought of it. "Thanks, sweetie." Swan is indeed very limber, and I am rethinking my rule against club girls dancing at CB as I watch her climb the pole using only her thighs. The sounds streaming out of the back rooms tell me I don’t really want to contemplate what’s going on back there. Just figure I’ll call in a cleaning service tomorrow. Z plops down next to me. "You turned this around, prez. Coulda been a fucking disaster." I half smile in return. I’m fucking tired and annoyed at the whole mess. "She’s good, yeah?" he says, pointing at Swan. "Yeah, thinking I’ll tell her she can start dancing here on the regular if she wants." "Gonna hit it?" "Fuck, no." "Damn, you’re serious about the Red Widow."

"Stop calling her that," I snap. From my vantage point, I’m able to observe Wrath watching over Trinity like a hawk. Goddammit. Except for a coy glance every now and then, she seems to be ignoring him. When I spot the Wolf Knight’s VP muscle in and start flirting with her, my danger radar goes off. Grabbing the first girl who walks by, I pull her down. Cookie. Good. She’ll spread for anyone, no problem. "Cookie, can you do me a favor?" She takes my question the wrong way and starts grinding on my lap. Z’s shaking with laughter and flashes me a thumbs up. I turn her head in the direction of the bar. "Can you please go distract Merlin before Wrath blows a fucking gasket?" "Yeah, of course. They a thing? Cause she and Teller—" I place a finger over her lips. "I don’t want to know." I tilt my head at Merlin. "Please." She plants a sloppy kiss on my cheek, launches herself out of my lap and sashays over to Merlin. "You’re such a heartbreaker, prez." "Please. Haven’t been up in that in years." Z arches his brow at me, like he’s amazed anyone can keep it in their pants for more than five seconds. Degenerate fuck. "Hey, since shit seems settled, do you mind if I take off?" "Nah, go on. Heading to Lake George?" I ask with a smirk. "Maybe." "Shiny side up, brother." We bump fists, and he’s gone. Looking around at the debauchery going on around me, I really miss my girl.

15

The ringing phone wakes me the next morning, and I fumble around trying to

answer it. And promptly land face first on the floor. The hell? Opening my eyes, I remember I’m not at home. I’m at Sophie’s, and apparently I’ve slept on her couch. "What are you doing on the floor, Hope?" I look up to find Sophie planted in front of me. Scrambling back onto the couch takes a minute. I swear, I’m the most graceless person on the planet. "Forgot where I was." She sinks down onto the couch next to me. "Ugh, that was work. I gotta fly down to Wilmington tonight for an eight a.m. meeting tomorrow. Fucking bullshit, but at least I can work from home today." "Why are they always telling you this stuff last minute?" "Got me. I sat in on the Friday afternoon conference call. They said something about going to Wilmington early next week. Just not how early." She shrugs. "It’s better than West Virginia, at least." I don’t know how Sophie manages to stay so positive. Her firm drops these lastminute travel plans on her all the time. Yes, they pay her decently, but they also treat her like shit. She’s only considered a "staff attorney," and they’ve made it clear they will never promote her to an associate. That means no big end-of-year bonus, and no respect. But since she looks good and doesn’t drool when she speaks, she’s presentable enough to send to clients’ offices, to do the work the associates and partners don’t want to be bothered doing. Why she puts up with it, I have no idea. She says she likes the traveling and never doing the same thing two weeks in a row, which I understand. But, I can see after almost two years of having her life constantly interrupted, it’s starting to wear on my friend. "You want to give me a lift home?" "You don’t have to go. Why don’t you stay here until whatever is going on with Rock’s club blows over? You can drive me to the airport tonight and have my car for the rest of the week." "Won’t your brother be annoyed if I’m here?"

Sophie shrugs. "Why? He’s next door. He works all night and sleeps all day anyway, so you probably won’t run into each other all that much. Besides, he likes you." That’s nice to know. Ben’s a good guy. The kind of big brother I always wished I’d had growing up. "Think about it." I give her offer serious consideration. If I stay here where Rock can’t find me, I can avoid him and have a little breathing room to sort out my feelings. It’s the chickenshit way out, but I don’t care. All this danger is too much for me. I already lost one husband, who never so much as drove over the speed limit. Now I have a boyfriend who runs around at night with guns and a bulletproof vest strapped to his body. I don’t think my mind or heart can take losing someone I love again. Especially someone like Rock, who is a powerful force of nature, but puts himself at risk constantly. Sophie pats my hand. "I’m going to run down to Stewart's for some eggs, coffee, and the paper. You want anything else?" "Nope." I yawn and dig around in my backpack for a toothbrush. As I’m rinsing my mouth out, I hear the distinctive rumble of a motorcycle. My heart speeds up at the familiar sound. How the hell did Rock manage to find me? Why do I automatically assume it’s Rock? It’s not like he’s the only guy in the world who owns a motorcycle. I rush to the living room window and peek outside. Sure enough, it’s him. So much for hiding out. I’m still pissed, but the anger fades as I watch him take off his helmet. Before I realize it, I’m flinging open the door and running outside without even caring that I’m barefoot, in a sleep shirt, and braless. "What are you doing here?" I ask as I slow my steps. He slips off his shades and drinks me in. "I don’t know if I should spank you or hug you." Well, that’s unexpected. "Excuse me?" I say, crossing my arms over my chest. He swings his leg over the bike and approaches me slowly. "I told you to stay put and let Hoot keep an eye on you. First thing you do is take off?" "Yeah, how did you find me anyway?" A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "I have my ways." Then his eyes turn serious. "You had me fucking worried." I drop my arms. "About what? What am I supposed to be so afraid of?" "Sass mouth," is the only warning I get before he drops his shoulder and flings me over it. My feet kick, and he hooks an arm across my thighs to keep me still. I’m terrified he’s going to drop me on my head, so I smack at his ass and legs to put me down. I realize in the commotion, my sleep shirt is bunched around my waist, my underwear-clad butt pointing up in the air.

"Rock, put me down. I don’t need Sophie’s brother seeing my bare ass," I hiss. We’re moving swiftly across the lawn, but he pauses and sinks his teeth into my hip. It’s a little love-bite, but I squirm, and a crack fills the air as his palm lands on my left ass cheek. "Ow! Did you just spank me?" "Yup. Felt good too. Gonna do it again as soon as I get you inside." "Like hell. Put me down, you jackass." He pushes inside and sets me down. "Where’s Sophie?" "She ran down to the store to get some stuff for breakfast." "Good. I have time to fuck you." His words ripple over me, and a rush of wetness dampens my panties. "No," I whisper. I watch as his gaze bounces around the room, taking everything in. Unsure about his intentions, I back away and grab my overnight bag. He follows my tentative steps. "Where are you going?" "To get dressed. You’re making me nervous." He closes the distance, grabbing the bag from my hands and pulling me against his chest. His mouth closes over mine, and I melt right into him. His arms tighten around me and lift me slightly off the ground. I can’t concentrate on anything but his mouth moving against mine, his tongue stroking inside. We’re moving, but I don’t know where. Finally he stops and sets me on the bathroom counter. Closing the door behind him with a quiet snick, he pauses before turning back to me. My bag hits the floor with a soft thud. "Take your shirt off." "No." He raises his eyebrows, clearly not accustomed to hearing "no." I hold out my hand. "Uh-uh. Don’t come any closer. You’re like sexual crack. I can’t think straight once you get your hands on me." A big sexy smirk takes over his face, and the skin around his eyes crinkles a little with the gesture. Damn, he’s hot. "I’m mad at you," I croak out. I don’t sound mad, though—I sound horny and desperate. He cocks his head and crosses his massive arms over his broad chest. "You’re mad at me?" Disbelief drips with every word. "Yes. You made me worry." The smirk slides off his face. "Why were you worried about me, doll?" "You didn’t answer my text. I don’t want to be all clingy, demanding to know where you are all the time, but you could have just let me know you were okay with a few short words."

Fuck. Why am I such an unbelievable asshole? I had Hoot watching the house, so I knew Hope was okay, but she had no way of knowing what was going on with me. I’m so used to only checking in with my brothers, it never occurred to me I should check in with Hope. It’s not like shooting her a two-word text would have killed me. Honestly, no other woman had ever worried about me enough to ask me to before. The guys would probably laugh their asses off and call me whipped, but I like knowing Hope cares. "I’m sorry. I got caught up last night. We had guys from one of our out-of-town charters come up for support as well as another local ally, and it got hectic." "Is everything okay?" "For now." "Does this sort of drama happen a lot?" I’m tempted to lie to her and say no, because I know she’s not going to like the truth. But I really want to build something with Hope, so I know I need to be honest and take whatever the consequences are. "Not a lot. But it’s not unusual either." She shakes her head and looks down, muttering, "Dammit." Her hand reaches out and curls into the waistband of my jeans and tugs me closer. I’m so fucking happy. She spreads her knees apart and pulls me right up against her, then wraps her arms around my waist. She nuzzles her cheek against my abs, and my cock jumps. She’s being all sweet, and I don’t want to ruin the moment. "Sorry." "Shower with me," she says in that husky voice that gets blood pumping straight below my belt every time I hear it. She slips my cut off my shoulders, and again I’m amazed at how she treats it with reverence. I’ve known club girls to take a guy’s cut and toss it on the floor. Not my girl. She seems to know its value to me. Or she’s just a neat, orderly person. But, no—that’s not it. I’ve seen the inside of her closet—she definitely has no problems tossing clothes on the floor. I chuckle at the memory. She lifts her head, a hurt look spreading across her face. No fucking way. I cup her cheeks and kiss her soft lips. "Nothing bad, baby." I strip my shirt over my head, and warmth spreads through me as she takes me in with obvious delight. "Like what you see?" "Oh, yes." Good God, she’s cute. I love the way her eyes eat me up, like she thinks I’m the sexiest man alive. Her female appreciation makes me want to roar with pride. And I believe she called me "sexual crack" a couple minutes ago. I need to reward her for that little ego boost.

To give myself a chance to calm down, I walk over and flip on the shower. Sophie must have a kick-ass water heater because the room fills with steam fast. I strip Hope out of her shirt and panties and shuck my boots and jeans. With my hands on her hips, I guide her into the shower. Here there are no ghosts to get in our way, so when I’m done soaping her up, I press my body tight against hers. My cock slides along the crack of her ass and I groan at the dirty images the sensation calls up. We’re thinking along similar lines apparently, because she thrusts her ass out at me. I snap, pushing her shoulders down and slamming my cock into her. She sucks in a deep breath and begins rocking against me. "Fuck, that’s good, baby." She whines in agreement. And then I realize I forgot to roll on a condom. Godfuckingdammit. "Why’d you stop?" Fuck, fuck, fuck. "No condom." She goes very still. "I’m not on the pill or anything, Rock." Fuck! I remember she’s not very enthusiastic about having children, and quite honestly, neither am I. Although in the back of my mind, I’m thinking if there’s ever a woman I wanted to have kids with, it’s Hope. "Finish on my back," she says just loud enough for me to hear it over the rushing water. Her words almost make me lose it. Could she be any hotter? I ease my cock back into her slowly and grit my teeth. I can’t remember the last time I fucked a woman raw, but that thin layer of latex makes a big difference. Feeling every bit of her against my most sensitive parts is amazing. I’m pretty sure I’ll cry like a baby the next time I have to wear a rubber. Slowly, I slide my hand down to play with her clit until she’s trembling and on the verge of coming. Bringing my lips to her ear, I nip and kiss her skin. "Come for me, doll." She explodes, and I’ve got to pull out. I keep rubbing her clit, letting her ride it out while I start sliding my fist up and down my cock. Staring down at her beautiful heart-shaped ass gets me moving faster. Her smooth, creamy skin is an unblemished, unmarked canvas. No tramp stamp on my girl to use as a target. But I don’t need one. She’s got these two perfect little dimples above her ass that will do the trick. I pick up speed with every stroke, focusing on those two teasing indentations. My balls tighten, signaling I’m ready to blow. Desire consumes me and I ignite, watching in fascination as I come all over her sweet little ass and back. I groan low and long as I finish. Mercy, she’s going to kill me. She twitches her ass at me, and I already want to fuck her again. Instead, I pull down the showerhead and clean her up. When I’m done, I turn her in my arms and take her lips in a gentle kiss.

"That was hot, but I’m sorry I got carried away." She drops her head, hair covering her face. How can someone her age be so shy about this kind of stuff? Deciding I don’t care because it’s so frickin’ cute, I place my fingers under her chin and tip her face up. "Can you get on the pill for me, doll?" She hesitates, and her cheeks flush pink. "I’ve had trouble taking it in the past, but I’ll make an appointment and see if there’s something different I can try." Fuck. I’ve never really given women’s health issues a whole lot of thought. Now she’s got me curious, but I don’t want to embarrass her any more than I already have. In time, I plan to learn every single thing about my girl. "I’ll go get snipped if it means I can fuck you raw every damn time." She sucks in a breath and blushes even redder at my crude words. Her arms snake around my waist, and she crushes her body against mine. I’m not sure what’s brought this on, with me acting like a filthy caveman and all, but anytime her body is close is good to me. I take the opportunity to run my hands up and down her slick curves. Wait a second—did I just offer to neuter myself so I could fuck her without anything between us on a regular basis? And not long before that, I’d been thinking I wouldn’t mind a little mini-me or mini-Hope running around. This is what she does to me. Twists me and turns me until I don’t know which way’s up. I love it. A knock at the bathroom door startles us apart. "Hope? Are you okay?" Sophie calls. Hope pulls farther away from me. "Yeah." "I assume that’s Rock in there with you?" Sophie says with a laugh. My girl shakes her head. I can tell she’s mortified, and I remind myself not to have her up at the clubhouse during any of our wilder parties. She’ll probably keel over. Since Hope still hasn’t answered, I answer for her. "It’s me, Soph. We’re good." Sophie’s laughter rings loud and clear. "Okay." I twist the shower off and help Hope out. She’s busy covering her face with her hands, shaking her head back and forth, so I grab a towel to start patting her dry. When I look up and she’s still blushing like crazy, I can’t help but tease her. "Don’t tell me you girls don’t tell each other everything." "Telling is different than witnessing it." "Doll, she didn’t witness anything." She huffs out an annoyed breath. "You’re exasperating." I stuff down my laughter. "Funny, I thought the exact same thing the day we met." "You did not!" "I sure did. You kept trying to get away from me. Didn’t even want to have lunch with me."

She stops, her smile faltering. Fuck, I’m an idiot. Neither of us speaks for a few beats, but finally she turns and bends over to rifle through her backpack, giving me one spectacular view. Fuck if I don’t want to blow my wad all over her again. "Sweetheart, if you keep bending over in front of me like that, we’re really going to give Sophie an earful." She snaps up straight, clutching a pile of clothes to her chest. "Animal," she says with a giggle. My hand connects with her ass and stops to knead her perfect flesh. "Fuck yeah, I am," I growl. She scurries into her clothes, and inside I wave goodbye to her beautiful boobs. What a crime to cover them up. I decide then and there, if I ever get her to move in with me, I’m going to demand she walk around the house naked at all times. Wait a second. If? If nothing. Fuck, I should ask her to move in with me right this second. "Hope—" "Breakfast is getting cold, horndogs!" Sophie shouts. I’m still standing there buck-ass naked like a moron, lost in thoughts of waking up with Hope in my arms every morning. Suddenly Hope is completely dressed. She brushes a quick kiss on my cheek. "See you out there." And breezes out the door. What the hell just happened?

Scurrying out of Sophie’s bathroom, I think of how I’m going to explain my behavior. I’m beyond mortified because I have no idea how much of our shower escapades she heard. Did she hear him groaning as he came all over my back? Hear him smack my ass? My cheeks burn with awful possibilities as I try to remember how much noise we made during our encounter. Sophie’s facing the doorway with a Cheshire cat grin on her face. "Morning, buttercup. I leave for twenty minutes, and you manage a booty call. I’m impressed." "Sophie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—" She holds up a hand with a spatula in it, cutting me off. "Please. It’s not the first or last time that shower has been so violated." "Should I come back later, so you girls can trade shower sex stories?" Rock asks

as he comes up behind me. I close my eyes, praying for the ground to swallow me whole. Sophie giggles. "Hey, Rock. Work up an appetite?" she asks with a sly grin. Wench. "Yeah, if it’s no trouble." He peers around her at the stove and seems satisfied when he notices she’s already got a bunch of stuff in various stages of preparation. "I’m going out of town tomorrow for business, so I wanted to use some of this up so it doesn’t go bad." She gestures to the neat piles of cut vegetables and the stack of bread waiting for its egg bath. "So you’re really doing me a favor." The kitchen door bangs open, and Rock reacts like we’re under siege. I place my hand on his arm and greet Sophie’s brother. "Hey, Big Ben." "Hey, Hope." He grabs Sophie in a bear hug and looks at the stove with longing. "You just get home?" Sophie asks "Yeah." "Rock, this is Sophie’s brother, Ben. He lives next door." They shake hands warily, taking each other’s measure. "That your bike outside?" "Yup." "You with Hope?" "Yes." He nods. "Good. I was afraid Sophie and Jonny had another bust up." Sophie turns and glares at him. "Shut up, Ben." Concerned, I tune the guys out and move next to my friend. "What’s going on, Sophie?" Slapping the spatula down, she sighs. "Nothing." Sophie’s not going to talk about this in front of the guys, so I let it go. While we’re waiting for breakfast, Ben and Rock wander outside to look at the bike. I’m pretty sure Ben plans to threaten Rock into treating me well. I’m not sure how that’s going to go over, so I’m a little anxious when they’re outside so long. Finally, Sophie runs out and yells at them to get their asses inside if they want to eat. Ben lets out a loud yawn as walks into the kitchen. "Go to bed, you big jerk," Sophie scolds. "Nah, I got a few things I want to take care of outside." Sophie rolls her eyes. Her brother has a hard time sitting still. That includes sleeping. As we’re clearing the dishes, someone bangs on the front door. Sophie’s happy squeals can be heard across the house, so I pop my head around the corner and find her plastered against Jonny. She’s got her legs and arms wrapped around him, and he’s cupping her ass. Between kisses, he’s telling her how much he missed her and not to ever hang up on him again. I clear my throat, because I know any minute Ben’s going to step out, find his

sister acting like a horny spider monkey, and lose his shit. Jonny breaks the kiss and looks up at me. "Hi, Hope." "Hi, Jonny." He sets Sophie down but keeps his arm around her. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just missed my girl." Since he’s constantly on tour, we’ve only met a handful of times. But, I know he’s crazy about Sophie, and I also know she drives him up the wall with her insane commitment issues. "Come on, we’re just finishing breakfast. Hope’s boyfriend is here. Ben’s here too," she adds with a warning glare. Jonny’s fists flex at her brother’s name, and I wonder what the story is. Shit, I’ve missed a lot lately. "Hey, Rock, right? Good to see you again," Jonny says as soon as he rounds the corner. He nods at Ben and helps himself to a plate before sitting down. Wait, when did these two meet? Sophie and Rock share an awkward look. There’s a story there, and I wonder which one I’m going to have pry it out of.

16

Since the last spa afternoon did a lot to lift my spirits, I decide to go again a few

weeks later. Because I do everything last minute, they can’t fit me in right away this trip and I end up killing time in the waiting area. The chairs are comfy. There’s ample reading material and healthy beverages available, so I don’t mind the wait. Recognizing the sweet, floral scent tickling my nose, I glance up. There’s something oddly familiar about the woman across from me, but I can’t place her right away. She flicks her eyes my way and catches me staring. Lucky for me, she’s used to being stared at and flashes me a cool smile. "You look familiar," she says in a questioning tone. "You too." She sticks out her hand. "Inga March." I’ve heard that name before. It’s not exactly common. "You’re Rock and Bricks’s attorney, right?" All at once, the memory returns. The stripper who sucked my boyfriend off in the supply closet. Fan-fuckingtastic. "Uh, yeah, I was." "I haven’t seen much of Rock in the last year or so." Good, you’ve seen enough of him. But her admission piques my curiosity. I can’t deny I’d love to know if they’d had many recent closet encounters. "No?" I ask, striving for a normal tone and probably failing. "Nah. He’s never at the club anymore when I’m there." My eyebrow quirks, so she continues. "Oh, I’m just a feature dancer. I come in every couple of weeks or so. But we always, and I mean always, used to fuck when I’m in town." Vomit threatens to rise at the mental image she’s just painted for me, but she seems oblivious. "The regular girls say he’s never there anymore. They think he’s been seeing someone seriously for the last year and that she doesn’t like him being around all

those naked chicks." Inga giggles and rolls her eyes. A boulder settles in my stomach. My pulse thunders in my ears at her words. Rock’s seeing someone else. I’m stunned and so heartbroken. I warned him I couldn’t do this if he wasn’t going to be serious, but he’s apparently already serious with someone else. All those nights he’s out on "club business" he can’t talk about suddenly take on a new meaning. I’ve been so stupid. Christ, I’m an adult, but so clueless about men it’s pathetic. Striving for a nonchalant tone, I ask, "Why not call him? You guys seemed pretty tight." She arches one perfectly sculpted, skinny little eyebrow at me. "Honey, please. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s hot as hell, and a great fuck, but Rock’s not the type of guy who will ever settle down with just one woman." Damn, she’s blunt. "Oh." "From what I hear, he used to fuck half the girls at the club on the regular. Guy like him ain’t ever gonna give up all that young, hot, free pussy. Then, I’ve got my porn gigs so…yeah, that wouldn’t have really worked out for us." "I see what you mean." She nods at me as if she’s taught me some great lesson today. Maybe she has. "Excuse me," I mumble. I tell the girl behind the desk that I’ve changed my mind. She urges me to make an appointment for next week, but I can’t stand breathing the same air as Inga for another second. As soon as I get behind the wheel, I whip my phone out and send Rock a text. If I call him, I’ll start crying the minute I hear his voice. Need to talk to you, in person. Almost immediately, he shoots back. Drop by house, I’m in the garage. I take a lot of liberties with the speed limit. It’s a miracle I don’t get pulled over as I fly through Empire. My hands are shaking, and I scream with frustration at every damn red light. I can’t do this. I can’t be someone’s piece on the side. I’m just not cut out for it. The feelings I have for Rock already overwhelm me. If he tells me I’m one of many, I need to prepare myself to cut him loose now before we get any more entangled. As promised, I find him in his garage. Both of the big doors in the front are open, and music drifts out into the driveway. The same side door I caught Wrath watching us from is also wide open. That’s not happening today. Maybe never again. "Hey." As he stands to greet me, I can’t help admiring his strength and grace. He moves like a big sexy panther or something. He sets down the tool in his hand and wipes his hands on a cloth. "Hey, doll." Hearing his voice makes me melt, but before I let him get to me, I need to have

this out with him. He seems to sense my unease, especially when he crooks a finger at me to come closer and I shake my head no. "I ran into Inga today." His eyebrows shoot up a bit, but other than that, his face shows no emotion. It’s clear he’s waiting for me to continue. "She says you haven’t been around the club much anymore." "That’s true," he answers slowly. "For the last year." He sighs, and his eyes flick down for a brief second. Guilt. Oh my God. I pushed for this, but now suddenly I don’t want to hear what he’s going to say. I think I’d rather be his piece on the side than never be with him at all and hate myself for being so weak.

This is it. The moment I have been dreading. Hope in front of me demanding answers I’m not ready to give her. She takes a deep, shaky breath. "Are you seeing someone else?" Not quite the question I expected. Before I can answer, she’s off. "Inga says all the girls at Crystal Ball think you stopped managing the club because you’ve been seeing someone for the last year." "There’s no one but you, Hope," I answer honestly. Some of the fight eases out of her, but I can tell she doesn’t quite believe me. "I will always be honest with you. I may not tell you the whole truth, because I don’t want to put you in danger, but what I do share with you will be true." She shakes her head, and I know my words didn’t register for her. She’s too worried about whatever shit Inga spewed at her today. "Okay. She told me about all the other dancers you’ve been with too." Fucking Inga and her gossipy mouth. Truth. I promised to give Hope truth. "Yes, I’ve been with dancers from the club, and I’ve been with girls from the MC. I won’t lie to you. I’ve never treated any of them badly, and I won’t start now just to prove how I feel about you. But as much as you might dislike me saying this, they were pieces of ass." Her eyes flash with annoyance, but I know it’s because she doesn’t agree with me referring to any woman that way, even if it’s some random I fucked in the past. Heaven help me, but I love her even more for it. "You are not a piece of ass to me. The minute I knew there was a possibility I’d

be able to claim you, I ended every one of those relationships. I took a step back from CB because when I came to you, I didn’t want you worrying about that shit." Well, that, and I didn’t need the temptation, but I keep that part to myself. She looks skeptical, so I decide to be blunt. "Baby, I haven’t stuck my dick in anyone since the second I decided you were going to be mine." Her eyes widen, pink staining her cheeks. But from shock, not disbelief. Good, we’re getting somewhere. "When exactly did you decide that?" There’s no anger behind her words, but I answer with caution anyway. "When I dropped you off after taking you to the clubhouse for the first time." I avoid the word funeral because I don’t want to cast negative shit all over what I’m trying to get her to understand. A smile tugs at the corner of her lips, and she shakes her head. "You expect me to believe you went at least a year without sex? When you had a stable of beautiful girls willing to drop their panties for you?" A soft chuckle at her characterization escapes me, but from the look on her face, she’s far from amused. "Yes, sweetheart, that’s exactly what happened." "So you had your choice of available pussy, but you were saving yourself on the off chance that I might want to have a relationship with you one day?" I bust out laughing hearing her say "pussy," then I tone it down as my brain processes the rest of her words. "Saving myself sounds a bit extreme." "What you’re telling me sounds pretty extreme." I shrug. "It was a year. People have had longer dry spells." Her eyes narrow, and I realize what I’ve revealed to her. I'm such a fucking idiot. One of the things I love about her is how shrewd she is. I just don’t enjoy it as much when she uses it on me. Maybe she’ll let it slide. She speaks very slowly and deliberately so I don’t miss a single word. "How did you know it would only be a year?" Nope. Damn, I can’t catch a break with her. Her eyes are killing me, so I focus on my boots. "I’m terrible with words, Hope, but I want you to understand. I walked away from you once. Didn't think I'd ever see you again. I’ve been such a bastard for most of my life, it figured my punishment would be when I finally met the right woman, she’d be married. I hated being around you, knowing you belonged to someone else. And if I thought he wasn’t taking care of you the way I thought you should be taken care of, I didn’t think I’d be able to stop myself from doing something about it. You didn't need stress or drama like that in your life." I risk a glance up and find her eyes closed. She’s twisting her fingers and biting her lip. I can’t help but feel like I’m about to throw myself off a cliff. But I started this, and I need to finish. She needs to know.

"When that…changed…yes, I swore I’d make you mine once you’d had some time to deal with everything." Her eyes open, and she stares at me as if I’m crazy. "I couldn’t continue living without you if I didn’t have to." Her narrowed eyes stay focused on me. "What if I had started seeing someone else? What were you going to do then?" Now is not the time to throw Sophie under the bus. "I would have fought for you. If Clay hadn’t died, I would have stayed away for good no matter how much I hated it." "Rock—" I cut her off. "You deserve to be happy. You deserve the nice, quiet, suburban life you had, with a man who loves you and treats you like the treasure you are. I don’t ever want the bad, dangerous stuff in my life to touch you. You deserve normal, peaceful, and no trouble." "You’re trouble," she whispers. "Yes. You know it deep down, doll. You deserve someone good, honest, and clean. I am none of that. I can't give you those things." "That’s not true." "Isn’t it? Think hard, Hope." She blinks twice. "You’re good to me." I sigh like a sad sack. "Baby, I’m such a selfish bastard for trying to draw you into my world. I don’t want any ugliness to seep into your life." "You’ve made me happier than I’ve been in so long." "For how much longer, doll? I’m never going to be a man who slips into a suit and tie and takes you to some lawyer function. I mix with the regular world only when it's required. I don't have patience for small talk and bullshit." She’s quick to shake her head. "But I don’t care about that stuff. I never have." My gaze wanders over her beautiful face, drinking in every perfect feature. "But I will expect you to spend time in my world, around the MC. That’s my family, my life. It’s not fair, but it’s the way it is. I will protect you with my life, and my brothers in the club? They will also keep you safe. Just because you’re mine." Tears glistened in her eyes. Fuck, I hadn’t meant to make her cry. "Hope? Are you with me?" "I’m with you." "Why you crying, doll?" "I’m scared. You sound like you’re letting me go." This is where I should tell her how fucking in love with her I am. I want to. I’m so close to the words, but I can’t force them out yet. What I tell her is just as true. "Honey, I could never let you go. I couldn’t let you go even when I had to. If you want me to, I will. If you decide I’m wrong for you, it will kill me, but I’ll let you go." She shakes her head harder as more tears fall down her cheeks. "You know I’m speaking truth here, right?" She nods once. "Yes."

"Good, because as much as I’ve claimed you, you’ve claimed me. I’m yours as much as you are mine. I mean it. I don’t want to be away from you for more than a second, but believe me—every minute we’re apart, the only pussy I’m thinking about slamming into is yours." I said it teasingly, but she sucks in a breath and starts crying even harder. "Why me?" She sniffs and hiccups. "What is it about me that made you so determined?" I cock my head at her. Is she serious? "You really have to ask?" "Yes. You could have any woman you wanted. Much more beautiful girls, the dancers. Girls who hang around the club who are dying to be with you. They understand you better—" "Hope, stop. First, you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on." She gives me this are-you-nuts wrinkled nose face that’s adorable, but I resist the urge to smile. She needs to hear this. "Second, yes it probably would be easier to be with a club girl. Don’t think I haven’t tried." She flinches at the reminder of other women, but I power through it. "As much as those girls might understand the club, they didn’t understand me. Your honesty and loyalty unravels me every damn time. You don’t expect things from me. You’re so damn clever. That day in the courtroom, you were terrified when that judge made you represent me. I could see your hands trembling. But you still did it. You gave it everything you had on the spot. You whipped out this eloquent plea on my behalf with no time to prepare. Most people would have halfassed it. You were kind, even though you probably thought I was a degenerate criminal. Then you kept fighting for me when you asked the guard to uncuff me. You didn’t have to do that. No one else would have bothered. That sincere sweetness is what I have been looking for my whole damn life. I knew it when we were standing on the sidewalk talking. You were so adorably frustrated with me. You accidentally flashed me an eyeful of cleavage and had no idea how sexy you were." She flushes so damn prettily at my revelation. "Then you told me you were married, and I couldn’t believe it. As if I didn’t have enough obstacles to overcome. I finally found the woman of my dreams, and not only is she a lawyer for fuck’s sake, she’s married. So baby, you don’t ever have to worry about me with anyone else. You’re exactly what and who I want in every way. No one else compares." She lets out a delectable little laugh, and I relax a little. "Can I tell you a secret?" "What’s that, doll?" She settles her hand on the back of my neck, pulling me down to her. "I was shaking because you were so freaking sexy, even in your orange jumpsuit." Once again, she manages to surprise me. That can’t be true. "You couldn’t wait to get away from me. I had to practically drag you to lunch." Her smile fades. "I told you, I’m not a cheater. I loved my husband. We had a good relationship." She pauses and swipes at her cheek, brushing a tear away. I

hate that I’ve made her run down this painful memory lane. "I’m not saying I never noticed another man, but after I met Clay, I never wanted anyone else. And being near you scared the fuck out of me, because I wanted you. My body responded to you in a way that scared the shit out of me." Of all the things I expected she might say, that didn’t even make the top ten.

Wow is an inadequate response, but it’s all I’ve got. I’m so overwhelmed by what Rock says, I have to pause for a minute to catch my breath. The crazy pull I’ve felt toward him since the day we met has not been in my imagination. He’s aware of it too. He lives and breathes it. I frown, remembering my other questions. "Wait, what about Crystal Ball—I thought you owned it?" "Technically, the MC owns it, but I don't run it day to day anymore. Turned it over to Z and Dex." I’m shocked, and the obvious question comes out of my mouth. "Why?" He shrugs and grins at me. "Only one woman I need to see naked." Oh, damn. He’s killing me. "But, Inga said you’ve been MIA there for over a year. You gave it up before we even got together?" He looks really uncomfortable with my probing, but I can’t help it. His smile fades, settling into something more serious but no less sexy. "Yes. I still have to go there from time to time, oversee some shit. But every day? I’d rather be here working with my hands." Sure, he doesn’t want me to get the wrong idea. That he gave it up for me. I get that. I force back my smile. "You know I wouldn’t have had a problem with it, right? It’s your job. I wouldn’t stick my nose in your business like that." "I know. But it’s better this way." Yes, it is. Too bad I have to keep ruining it with my big mouth. "Do you miss it?" He snorts, as if my question is absurd. "No, doll, I don’t miss it at all." He pulls me against him. "You done with all your questions?" I tip my head up and try not to chuckle. "Yes." "Get your answers?" "I think so." "Good." With that, his knuckles trace along my jaw, gently angling my head up

for his kiss. His mouth works against mine in some of the sweetest, softest kisses imaginable. No matter how gentle he is at first, it doesn’t take long for me to ignite under his touch. My hands fist in his shirt, desperate to feel his skin. Against my hip, something starts vibrating. Rock lets out a string of curses and yanks his phone out of his pocket without releasing his hold on me. "What?" His eyes flick down in my direction. "Yeah, she’s here with me now actually." My head tilts to the side as I try to silently gather more information. He notices, and one corner of his mouth turns up. "When? Now? I guess." He ends the call. Instead of explaining, his mouth meets mine, kissing slow and deep. I sway, and his arms band around me. Finally he lets me go, leaving me all fuzzy and dreamy from that kiss. "Bricks is bringing his girl by. She’s got a legal thing she wants to talk to you about." Wait, what? "I’m not working right now." "I know. But you still know stuff. Just talk to her. Please." It’s the least I can do after what Rock’s done for me today. Also, I like Bricks a hell of a lot. We’re staring at each other, so much heat crackling between us I’m about to ask him how much time we have, when a car door slams. I see Bricks right away. "Hope, I’m so glad you’re here," Bricks shouts. He’s dragging a tall, willowy blonde behind him. I straighten up and discreetly run my hands over my lips. Rock’s touch still lingers. I flick my gaze to him, and he’s giving me this soft smile that warms me and gives me strength. Turning to the couple, I paste on a bright smile. "What’s up?" I recognize the blonde— Winter, I think her name is. Bricks has been exclusively hanging out with her for a while now. Even introduced her to his kids a week or so ago, if I’m not mistaken. Rock gets back on the ground to tinker with whatever he was working on before I tornadoed in here and interrupted him. Bricks nudges Winter. "Tell her." Winter looks embarrassed as she takes a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket and hands it to me. "My ex wants a paternity test. He’s just trying to get out of paying child support." I scan the paper briefly. Pretty standard stuff, from what I can tell. I hand it back to her and look at them. "Bricks, you know I’m not really doing—" Winter cuts me off. "Please. Elias said you did such a good job for him. I don’t qualify for a paid attorney. I don’t have a lot, but I can pay you." "Club will take care of it," Rock mutters. I glare down at him because he’s not helping the situation. I don’t want to do this. Even though it’s probably a simple

case, I’m out of practice. "Oh. Mr. North, I can’t ask you to do that," Winter says, clearly startled. "You serious about her, Bricks?" Rock stands up, wiping his hands on the rag hanging out of his pocket. Bricks tightens his hold on Winter. "Yeah, prez." "She gonna be your ol’ lady?" Winter looks back and forth between the two of them. "Yeah. We were gonna talk about that soon." Poor Winter. She looks as clueless about club business as I do on most days. "Then it’s club business, and we’ll pay for it, whether Hope does it or we find you someone else." Finally, some acknowledgment that I’m not going to have to work against my will. "Although, my girl really is the best one for the job," Rock says with a pointed look at me. Dammit. My hot, red temper flares at his blatant manipulation of me in front of Bricks and Winter. Fuck! Red—I’m seeing red, so I take a few deep breaths and calm down. Turning my back to Rock completely, I ask Winter, "Can you bring me any other paperwork? The court date is soon, so maybe we can meet here at Rock’s house, say Tuesday at two?" If he’s going to offer my services knowing damn well I don’t even have an office right now, I’m going to help myself to his fucking house. I shoot a glare at him over my shoulder, and he has the nerve to smile. "I don’t have a lot of time to prepare, so it’s possible I’ll need to ask for an adjournment." "No problem, Ms. Kendall. Thank you so, so much for doing this. And Mr. North. Really, thank you," Winter gushes. She’s so sweet, it’s hard for me to stay mad. Besides, it’s not her I’m angry with anyway. After they leave, I storm out of the garage and to my car. "Wait, are you leaving?" Rock asks as he follows me out. Spinning around so fast that my hair fans out behind me, I snap. "Ya think? Or did you have some other job you want to bully me into doing?" "Bully you? Babe, what are you talking about?" "You know I don’t even have an office—" He has the nerve to lift his shoulders in an innocent shrug. "You never had one before." I hold my hand up to stop him. "Don’t! I haven’t set foot in a courtroom in over a year. I have to do some research, brush up on stuff. I can’t just waltz in there unprepared." Grasping my upper arms, he holds me still. "Babe, breathe. This sounds more like nerves talking." Shaking him off, I open my car door. "You just don’t get it. It’s not like tinkering with a bike!" The angrier I get, the calmer he seems, which pisses me off even more.

"I need to go. I’m going to drop by Adam’s office and see if I can use his legal research account. I don’t have one anymore." "Baby, I don’t want you driving when you’re so upset. Give me a sec to clean up." Because he is the almighty Rochlan North who shall be obeyed, he takes my silence for acquiescence and jogs into the house. I take off because I’m livid and don’t need him babysitting me. I should have known better, though, because he catches up with me in Adam’s parking lot. Fucking Harley pipes. I hear him coming a mile away, so I wait in my car. The last thing I need to do is cause a scene in my friend’s office. He shuts the bike off next to me. The first thing that goes through my head is to play it off, like I misunderstood him. But, I’m not a sixteen-year-old kid. I’m a grown ass woman, so I’m going to let him have it instead. With that in mind, I fling my car door open and meet him halfway. "Why did you take off like that?" He’s not angry, but he’s definitely getting there. Too bad I’m already there. "I don’t need you to babysit me," I snap back. "The fuck? Maybe I wanted to spend some time with you when you were done here." Oh. Well, don’t I feel like a bitch. He grips my shoulders and locks his gaze with mine. "I’m sorry if you think I overstepped—" I cut him off. "That’s a shitty apology." He looks toward the sky, asking for patience, probably. The thought makes me laugh. He glances back down, a hint of a smile curving his lips. "Are you laughing at me now?" "Hey, is everything okay?" a familiar voice calls out. I turn to let Adam know it’s fine. "Mind your own business," Rock growls. Adam is nowhere near the size of Rock, but he’s also never backed down from anything. "You’re in my parking lot, so it’s my business." I wriggle out of Rock’s grasp. "Adam, it’s fine." He comes striding over, throwing Rock a nasty look. "Holy fuck, Hope, I barely recognize you." He sweeps me up into a hug. A glance at Rock shows me he’s trying hard not to knock poor Adam to the ground.

Fuck this shit. Is she kidding me right now? This guy with his prissy hands all over my woman. She’s still pissed at me for some unknown reason. After I laid out my fucking soul to her, mind you. She has a conniption and takes off. And now some three-piece-suit-wearing fucker has his paws all over her. Right in front of me. If we were in my world, I would have knocked his teeth down his throat by now. But, I can’t do that here. Finally, he lets her go. With all the blood rushing through my ears, I didn’t hear a word either of them said the entire time they were hugging it out. "Adam, this is my, uh…" Is she for real? "Boyfriend," she finally spits out. Seriously? Boyfriend seems awfully inadequate to describe how I feel about her, especially when less than an hour ago I spilled my fucking guts to her. Adam, who is either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid—I haven’t figured which yet—gives her a doubtful look. Then he turns to me, and to my utter fucking shock, eye-rapes me in a way that even the dirtiest club girl has never attempted. "You can unclench, scary biker dude, you’re more my type than she is." What. The. Fuck? Hope is so startled she bursts out laughing. The two of them bow their heads together like co-conspirators. "Seriously, girl, he’s yummy. He the reason I haven’t seen you in for-fucking-ever?" A quirky grin spreads across her face. "A little bit." "Nice. So what do you need? Except for the files I parceled out to Mara’s firm, I left everything where it was." She hugs the prick again. Right in fucking front of me. I’m trying hard to forget that I’m supposedly his type. So yes, her hugging him again sends steam shooting out of my ears. She bats her eyelashes at him in a phony, flirtatious manner I have never, and I mean never seen Hope use. My girl is just full of surprises today. Between the temper and the phony, flirty, crap, I feel like I don’t even know her right now. "Well, I could use your LexLaw password for a little family court research I need to do," she answers with another bat of her eyelashes. He turns, and she follows him in the building. I join them, because fuck, what else am I going to do? My scrambled brain is still busy trying to sort all this shit out. As they catch up, I make myself comfortable in the prick’s waiting room. I overhear him telling her about the new judge that took over for family court who is a "total dick" but has deep pockets. He tells her about some of the billing changes the county has made and some new rules and shit. None of it makes a lot of sense to me, but I start getting why Hope was so pissed. I still think I was right. She should go back to working. She clearly likes helping people, and she’s good at it. I worry about her. And I like the idea of her working for

the club. Next time I tell myself I’ll try not to be so heavy-handed. Lord knows I would blow a gasket if she tried to tell me which crew to sell my crates of Jaded Bastard to. The thought makes me chuckle. When she returns, she’s carrying a box, which she automatically shoves into my gut—guess she’s still peeved—and a bunch of folders, which she jams into her purse. With a sweet smile, she says goodbye to Adam. I grunt in his general direction, and we leave. "Get what you needed?" "Yeah, for now." I rest the box in the backseat of her car and slam the door. "I’m sorry I overstepped. I get it now." Her shoulders sag. "I’m sorry I overreacted. You’re right. I’m nervous." She glances up at me with those clear, honest, green eyes. There she is. There’s my girl. The woman I love.

CHAPTER 17

"B abe, you’re going to be great."

This is the fifth time Rock has told me this today. "Thank you. I’m just nervous." Smoothing my hands over my skirt suit, I turn in the mirror to make sure everything is tucked where it should be. My bun is a little loose, so I add a few extra hair pins. Finally, I slick on a dab of lip gloss and a swipe of mascara. It feels weird to be dressed up in business clothes again. Not bad weird. But not good weird either. Rock presses himself against my back, sliding his arms around my waist, pulling me against him. In the mirror, our eyes meet, and he kisses the top of my head. "You’re really sexy all dressed up." "Don’t start." His eyes widen in innocent indignation. "Don’t make your ‘who me’ face either." His lips quiver with a repressed smile as he steps back and slaps my butt. "Jackass," I grumble. Before he can pop my ass again, I dart out of my room and down the hall. "Babe, you forgot something," Rock calls from the bedroom. I glance down at my bare feet. Dammit. "You know I’m running late, right? I don’t have time to play games with you," I shout back. I flip open my file and run through what I want to say one more time. It’s going to be simple. I know that. The paternity test came back positive. Winter’s ex is indeed the father of her son, just as we knew he would be. Except while I was busy working up this case, I noticed he wasn’t paying the full amount of child support that Winter’s entitled to, so I’ll be filing a motion in support court right after we finish the paternity matter. Stupid asshole should have left well enough alone. I hate support court work. Too much damn math. Rock strolls into the kitchen with my shoes in his hands. "Are you ready?" "I’m not riding down there on your bike," I snap, grabbing the shoes and slipping them on.

"Are you always such a sass mouth before court?" I know he really wanted to say "bitch" but held back. "Yes, Rock. This is the real me. Happy you talked me into this now?" His jaw tightens, but again I can tell he’s trying not to smile. "We’re taking your car." I nod, because, duh. I can’t straddle his bike in a pencil skirt, and I'd rather not roar up to court on the back of his Harley. "I’ll drive, though." That actually suits me fine, because I’m nervous enough. Also, if there’s no parking, he can just drop me off at the front door. I’m too anxious to eat, but Rock shoves a spoon and a cup of yogurt with a cutup banana mixed in at me. Rather than argue with him, I eat it standing over the sink. Bricks and Winter are waiting on the sidewalk in front of the courthouse when we arrive. Winter is wearing a simple navy dress. She presents a young, wholesome image, and I’m relieved she followed my advice to leave the midriff-baring shirts she normally favors at home. The guys trail behind us, and I stop in my tracks. Turning to face them, I ask, "Wait, are you planning to come in?" The three of them all look at each other. "Yeah, babe," Rock finally answers. "Aren’t people allowed to watch in family court?" I hesitate. "Well, yes, unless it’s a closed hearing, I guess so. It’s a really small courtroom. The judge might ask who you are." I gesture to the leather cuts that neither of them left at home. "I’m not sure how helpful that will be, either." I can just see the guards giving the guys the full patdown treatment at the front door, further delaying us. Rock quirks his lips, and Bricks cuts him a look. We’re all out on the sidewalk in some sort of stand-off. Finally, Rock cocks his head at my car, and they trot off together. He and Bricks return without the cuts. "Better?" Rock asks. "Yes." We enter the courthouse, go through security, and make our way to the room where the hearing is being held. I’d be nervous enough with just Winter here, but having Rock and Bricks also watching really rattles me. I fumble and drop my file, scattering papers everywhere. Winter’s ex stoops down to help me pick up my papers, which isn’t really helpful at all. It’s awkward. I snatch the folder back with a tight "thank you" and take my place at our table. This morning already sucks.

If I didn’t think it was important, I would have told Bricks that we should wait outside. But, Winter has gotten some threatening texts from her prick ex, and I want him to understand if he messes with her, he’s asking for a fuckload of trouble he doesn’t want. Of course, I don’t explain this to Hope. She’s wound so tight, she would have blown. I am not happy about leaving our cuts in the car, but Hope had a valid point, and I didn’t want her to lose her shit in front of the courthouse. Besides, Bricks and I are plenty scary all on our own. There are spectator seats right behind Hope’s table. If I wanted to, I could reach out and grab her cute little ass, but I manage to control myself. Barely. I do give her a shoulder squeeze right before the judge comes in. She flashes a genuine smile over her shoulder. Hope goes through her spiel, her argument clear and concise. Pride surges through me. My woman is still fantastic. "Your honor, since the child was born during the marriage, paternity is assumed. The father’s name is on the birth certificate, and he has acknowledged the child as his own for the last two years. It wasn’t until he discovered Ms. Wilkes began dating that he decided to question paternity. He was not entitled to a test as a matter of law, but we consented to put this matter to rest once and for all. As you can see from the reports, Mr. Wilkes is unequivocally the father. We respectfully request this petition be dismissed with prejudice." The judge turns his stony gaze on Wilkes and proceeds to dress him down. Damn, the old goat on the bench is pissed and opinionated. He explains his feelings on having the court system used as a tool of revenge and shames the guy for trying to deny his own child to get even with the mother. It’s a brutal lecture, and the guy is practically on the floor by the time the judge wraps it up. This was fun. Not the way I would have preferred to handle it, but still fun.

So, I may have overreacted a tad. Not that the case was easy. It still presented a

challenge to my dusty brain, but the judge steamrolling over Winter’s ex with his lecture was pretty damn entertaining. As soon as the judge exits the courtroom, Winter gives me a big hug. I can tell she’s dying to say something to bait her ex. I hold onto her for a minute. "Say nothing. You won. Ignore him," I whisper in her ear. Her mouth quirks, but then she sees I’m serious, and she nods. Instead, she makes a show out of taking Bricks’s hand and walking out of the courtroom. God save me from dramatic clients. I shake my head and gather up my stuff. I can feel Rock waiting behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Winter’s ex glaring at me. If only he knew I’m about to go file for a modification to increase his child support payments next. The bailiff is waiting for all of us to exit and keeping a close eye on the three of us. When I’ve finally collected my stuff, I turn to Rock. "Let’s go." He settles his hand at the small of my back and leads me into the hallway. "I need to go file these papers. The support magistrate is down that hall and to the left," I tell Rock while pointing out where I’m headed. "I’m just gonna go outside and give Bricks his cut back so they can leave. She’s got to go to work." "Yeah, sure, I’ll be fine." He gives me a quick kiss on the forehead and follows Bricks outside. Not big on public displays in courthouses, I shake my head. A female court officer catches my eye and winks at me. "Lucky you," she jokes. Okay, that makes me chuckle. I am pretty lucky, and it’s starting to sink in that Rock’s been awfully patient with all my bitchiness. With a smile, I march down the hall to file my motion. Luckily no one else is waiting in line, so I pay the fee, file my papers, and head outside. I use the alternate exit and decide to just walk around the side of the building to where we parked. Unfortunately, I almost walk right into Winter’s ex. His entire body is tight with rage when he recognizes me. "You fucking bitch," he snarls. "Not so tough without your bodyguards now, are ya?" We’re on a public sidewalk, so I’m not terrified, but I’m not calm either. "Mr. Wilkes, I understand your frustration, but you started this by filing the paternity request." Seriously, why do I need to explain these things to people? Although, I guess without assholes like him, I’d be out of work, now, wouldn’t I? "That fucking whore ran around on me for months before we split. No fuckin’ way is that kid mine. He’s probably that spic’s kid." And I’m done. This guy has used up every ounce of my patience—I have no use for people who use racial slurs. "Sir, science says otherwise, and to my knowledge, Winter didn’t

even meet Bricks until about a year after your split. If you’re so desperate to get out of paying support, why don’t you file to sever your parental rights?" I ask sweetly. It’s probably unprofessional of me to suggest that, but this guy’s attitude pisses me off. How horrible for his kid to grow up with a father who keeps questioning if they’re even related. He's clearly come unglued, because he grabs my shoulders and gets right down in my face. Now I’m fucking terrified. My eyes dart around, looking for help. Of course, there isn’t a single person on the street. Seriously? Not even a parking enforcement officer? "Let go of me," I say in my calmest voice. He glares at me, but I don’t back down even though my heart is slamming with fear. My shoulders ache from the way his fingers are digging into me, and I know I’ll have bruises there tomorrow. I hope that’s the only injury from this encounter. Why don’t I have any pepper spray? Or a gun? "Get the fuck off her!" Pounding footsteps sound on the sidewalk behind me. A deep breath whooshes out of me at the sound of Rock’s furious voice. Thank God. The guy’s eyes widen, and he shoves me backwards. My arms pinwheel out as I try to catch myself. At the last second, strong arms wrap around my middle, catching me. Wilkes takes off running. Rock sets me on my feet. Placing his fingers under my chin, he tips my head up to look him in the eyes. "Are you hurt?" "No, just scared." Rock runs after Wilkes. "Rock, no!" Shit, I’m afraid he’ll kill the guy. They didn’t get very far, though. Wilkes, in his haste, must have tripped, and Rock is hauling him off the ground. With the intention of diffusing the situation, I hurry up to the both of them. Honestly, I don’t give a shit what happens to Wilkes. I just don’t want Rock getting arrested. "You ever lay a hand on my woman again, I will fucking kill you," he growls in his deadliest biker voice. Now, there’s cops. Wonderful. They separate Rock and Wilkes. Of course, they eye Rock’s cut and immediately jump to the wrong idea. Smoothing my hands over my hair and skirt, I pin both of them with what I hope comes off as a professional smile. "Officers, this man," I say, pointing to Wilkes, "was yelling at me and almost pushed me to the ground. My boyfriend simply defended me." The cops do a double-take. "Can we see some identification, Miss?" "Sure." Hands shaking like crazy, I open my briefcase and hand them my bar identification card, driver’s license, and a business card. "I represent his ex-wife, and we just wrapped up a case that did not go Mr. Wilkes’s way." My information checks out. The cops lose interest in Rock and turn their full

attention on Wilkes. "You want to press charges, Ms. Kendall?" "No, I’m fine. I understand emotions run high sometimes after court." They look at Rock, who shrugs. "It’s up to her." "Yeah, well no retaliation later, Mr. North." Huh, I guess they know Rock. Lovely. Rock is unaffected. "As long as he stays away from her, we’ve got no issue." The cops turn to Wilkes. One of them places a hand on Wilkes’ shoulder with what has to be a bruising grip. "You better get on your way. We want to watch you leave. You stay away from this young lady. Sort your shit out in a court of law, not the sidewalk." Wilkes’s eyes shoot daggers at me, but he leaves. The four of us watch him get into his car. When he finally starts the engine, one of the cops heads into the courthouse. The one who issued the warning to Wilkes punches Rock’s shoulder. "What the fuck? How you doin’, Rock?" Huh? Rock’s eyes are fixated on watching Wilkes drive away. When the jerk’s car fades from sight, Rock turns and faces the officer. "I’m good, Danny. How ‘bout you?" "Great. That bike you did for me is fucking sweet. My girl wants one next." Rock huffs out a laugh. "Sparkly pink, right?" "You know it." His gaze darts to me, and he raises an eyebrow. "Good thing you were here with your girl. That guy looked like a fucking nut job." A slow grin spreads over Rock’s face, and he slips his arm around my waist. "Yeah, can’t take her anywhere," he jokes. Danny looks like he has more questions, but he keeps them to himself. He shakes my hand and reminds me to be careful before he leaves.

My anger is slow to slip away. Seeing that motherfucker with his hands on Hope, him pushing her, her almost falling—I caught just her in time. I wanted to beat the ever-living shit out of that fucking guy. One day very soon, I’ll be paying him a visit. "Pick your jaw up, Baby Doll. I’ve got friends in law enforcement too." I wink at her. Her face screws into a scowl. I love that face. She made a similar one the day we met. Much like today on a

sidewalk in front of a courthouse. Crazy how out of such an awkward situation, I’d found happiness. I cup her cheek, rubbing my thumb over her soft skin. I couldn’t have done that the day we met, even though I desperately wanted to. I always knew the right woman wouldn’t come easy, but I’d never stop fighting for Hope. Pulling her to me for a kiss, she goes soft in my arms and lets out a little sob. "Thank God you were here," she mumbles against my mouth. My chest squeezes. I love this woman so damn much, and I’ve yet to tell her. My heart revs at the thought. After a moment, she pulls away. "I’m sorry I was in such a foul mood all morning. I really am glad you were here." She ducks her head. "I just didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you," she says softly. "Baby, you could never. You were awesome." She tips her head back and gives me a sweet, frustrated look. I know that look. I’m surprised she’s giving it to me here in broad daylight. My, we’ve come a long way. I meet her silent request with a slow, deep kiss, reaffirming our connection and the long road we’ve traveled to get here. She sighs as we part. Her stomach growls, and she jumps back. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I see it’s almost noon. "I better feed my baby, huh?" I ask, slipping her briefcase out of her hand. "Guess so." She laces her fingers through mine, and we drop her briefcase off in her car. Spotting a diner across the street, she points, "I could go for half a turkey sandwich." A warm feeling spreads through my chest, and my lips curve into a smile. She’s thinking about the day we met too. "I hear they make great sweet potato fries, doll."

NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR

These are the original notes that were published in the October 14, 2014 version of Slow Burn I hope you enjoyed reading the first part of Hope and Rock's story. Their journey will continue in Corrupting Cinderella, available December 2, 2014. Although I strived to be accurate in the legal and courtroom scenes, I may have bent reality to fit my needs on occasion. The same goes for the Motorcycle Club I have created. I conducted a significant amount of non-fiction research and a few interviews. While I wanted the MC to feel authentic, this book is a romance first and foremost. It was not intended to be an exact portrayal of an outlaw club. It is a romantic fantasy—heavy emphasis on the romance—so I bent things to suit the needs of the romantic elements of the story. The world of the Lost Kings MC takes place in a fictionalized version of the Capital Region of New York. It's loosely based on the tri-city area of AlbanySchenectady-Troy and the counties of Albany, Schenectady and Rensselaer. As I mentioned in the beginning, I had a wonderful group of beta readers help me with Slow Burn. Without their continued support and demands for me to finish, I might still be muddling around with this story. Some of them also wisely pointed out the limitations of having an MC set in New York, where the winter months can be long and cold! Although I adore the MC sub-genre, I set out to do things a little different with the Lost Kings MC. It is in no way intended to be an accurate portrayal of MC life. It is my fictionalized, romanticized version. I'm a romance writer at heart. The romance and internal conflict of a lawyer and a criminal getting together, was what grabbed me about Hope and Rock's story the most. I can't deny that a certain television show we all know and love influenced the Lost Kings series. What has always intrigued me the most, was Jax's inner struggle to move his club away from the bad stuff and into more legitimate businesses. What if he had managed to do that earlier on? Throughout Slow Burn, there are references to what the Lost Kings were like before Rock, Wrath and Z took it over. There will be glimpses of where they came from in future books, especially Wrath's

story (book 4). During the beta process, I got a wide range of responses on Rock. The overwhelming response was love for him. But a few did tell me they found him too soft. I took that as a compliment and here is why: 1. That's how he came to me in my head and 2. I love MC romances because it is a sub-genre where stepping outside the normal confines of the rules of romantic fiction is acceptable. Pretty much anything goes—which is what makes MC Romances so fun and surprising to read. However, as a woman and a writer, I've become mildly alarmed at how outright abuse and the disrespectful treatment of women has somehow become synonymous with an "alpha male" in a lot of romantic fiction today (not just MC Romances). It is possible for men to treat women—weather they be club whores or lawyers—like human beings and still be "tough." The two things are not mutually exclusive. And that is what I set out to do with my story. I didn't want to have my MC be completely stripped of the things that make it an MC romance, but there were also certain things I deliberately chose to avoid. Take it as you will. Thank you for reading. Autumn

CHARACTER INTERVIEW: HOPE AND ROCK

Interviewer’s Notes: I have this interview scheduled with both Rock and Hope, but so far it’s just me and Rock, sitting at a table in the back of Uncommon Grounds café in Empire. I’m definitely not getting the warm fuzzies from him. He’s not rude, he just looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. He’s facing the front of the café and scrutinizing every person who walks in the door. Rock: Sorry about this. Hope’s always running late. Interviewer: Was she in court this morning? Rock: No. Interviewer’s Notes: I can tell Hope must have arrived, because Rock’s entire expression changes. He actually smiles and stands. Hope throws herself against him and well, it’s kinda awkward for this interviewer for a moment. Hope: I’m so sorry I’m late! Rock nudges the extra coffee cup he has on the table in front of Hope. Rock: Babe, you hungry? Want something? Hope: I’m good. Thanks. Let’s get started. Interviewer: Do you have to be in court? Hope: No. I, uh, might be starting a new job soon. Interviewer: Really? Hope: I can’t talk about it yet, but it’s interesting. Interviewer: Okay, so how is life these days? You look both happy. Hope: Life is good. Rock: No complaints. Interviewer: Hope, how are things with you and the club? Still tension with the guys or have things settled down? Hope: (laughs) Um, Wrath’s the only one who ever gives me a hard time. The rest of the guys seem to have accepted me. Rock: He still giving you shit? Hope: (more laughter) Interviewer: What was the moment Hope, when you knew Rock was “it” for you? And same for you Rock, when was the “Aha”? Hope: That’s hard for me to answer.

Interviewer’s note: Rock gives me a look that makes me finally understand what people mean when they use the phrase “death glare.” Hope: I think the moment we were in his garage, when he explained how long he’d had feelings for me. I already knew I was falling for him hard but I didn’t realize how deep his feelings for me were until that moment. Interviewer: Wow. Rock? Rock: I’d like to say the second I saw her, but it just wasn’t a possibility at that time. Interviewer: Hope, was it hard for you that first time you saw Rock after your husband’s funeral? Hope: That was a difficult time for me. I was in such a…fog. I was touched that he cared enough to see if I needed anything, but I wasn’t thinking about anything beyond that. Interviewer: How about later when you guys ran into each other? Hope: Well (nervous laughter) I was a little tipsy. I was more amazed to run into him than anything, it’s not like we really ran in the same circles… Rock: Can we move on now? Interviewer: Sure! Let’s try to lighten up the mood here a bit. Hope, if it wasn’t Rock, which of the other Lost Kings would you consider “Taking a Ride” on….I mean with? Rock: What the fuck kind of question is that? Hope: Hmmm…well, Wrath is definitely attractive, but his personality…no. Z’s very devilish, so he’s more like a big brother, plus he’s hooked up with my friend, Lilly, so…no. Bricks has a girlfriend. Murphy is too young for me…so… Rock: You seem to have given this a lot of thought, babe. Interviewer: Fair is fair, Rock, any of Hope’s friends you’d like to spend a night with? Rock: No. Interviewer: Okay, then. Let’s move on. Rock: Let’s. Interviewer: Rock what is one non-sexual thing that Hope does that gets you hotter than anything? Rock: Everything she does is hot as fuck. Interviewer: Anything more specific? Rock: The way she sticks up for herself and for other people. Interviewer: Nice. Okay, Hope what is the most romantic thing Rock has done for you, that you loved, but most women would find obnoxious? Hope: Well, I think it was Rock coming to see if I was okay the day of my husband’s funeral. I know…certain people in my life expressed the opinion that it was inappropriate. But nothing improper happened and it really did help me when I was feeling low. Interviewer: Rock, what are Three Things you LOVE about Hope and Three Things that drive you CRAZY?

Rock: Love everything about her. She’s caring and clever. She’s good to my family, even though they give her a hard time. She puts up with my shit. Got no problem telling it like it is when we’re alone. She’s really hot when she’s pissed off. Interviewer: Those are all good things. Anything that drives you nuts? Rock: My girl is very messy. Hope: What?! Interviewer: Uhh… Rock: Doll, your closet looks like a bomb went off in it. Hope: Whatever. Do I get to answer the same question? Interviewer: Of course. Hope, Three Things you LOVE about Rock and Three Things that have you thinking of places where they will never find the body? Hope: Love that Rock always makes me feel very special and cared for. He’s exciting to be around and has more depth than people realize. He’s protective of the people he cares about. (Hope’s cheeks turn bright pink) He’s very sexy. People don’t realize this because he looks so mean and intimidating, but he’s very loving and charming underneath all that. Interviewer: That’s sweet. Any dislikes? Hope: Well, he’s bossy. Demanding. Overprotective. Secretive— Rock: That’s more than three, Hope. Hope: Oh, sorry. Interviewer: Hope, how has life changed since becoming an Ol’ Lady? Hope: I don’t know that it has. Rock: (chuckles) Interviewer: So, Hope, before you guys met, it’s been rumored that Rock used to go through women like socks. From the strippers at his dance club to the girls that hang around his motorcycle club. Has that been difficult for you? Rock: Really? Hope: (laughing and shaking her head) Everyone has a past. Rock’s is just more…colorful than mine. Interviewer: If you guys could choose one song title to describe your relationship what would it be? Interviewer’s note, both answered at the same time. Rock: Sweet and Wild. Hope: You’re the One. Interviewer: Aww. So what is next for you guys? Marriage? Interviewer’s note, again both of them answer at the same time. Hope: No. Rock: Yes. Interviewer: Well, this is awkward. Hope: (looking at Rock) After that…thing you explained to me, I thought that was…I always thought you didn’t want to get married again. Rock: That was before I met you. Hope: Oh. Wow.

Interviewer: Kids in your future? Rock: Please. I already have a clubhouse full of children to look after. Hope: (laughing) That’s completely true. Seriously though, I’d like to have Rock to myself for a little longer before we think about children. Rock: Sounds good to me. Interviewer: Thank you both for hanging out with me today! Best of luck for the future! Hope: Thank you. Back to Table of Contents

Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC, Book 2): Copyright © 2014 by Autumn Jones Lake. Cover Designed by: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations Photography: Kelsey Keeton of K Keeton Designs Models: Cameo Hopper and Walter Veale Edited by: Marti Lynch All rights reserved. eBook ISBN: 978-0-9907945-2-3

Print Book ISBN: 978-0-9907945-3-0 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Lake, Autumn Jones Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC, Book 2) / Autumn Jones Lake Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC, Book

Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC, Book 2): Copyright © 2014 by Autumn Jones Lake.

Cover Designed by: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations Photography: Kelsey Keeton of K Keeton Designs Models: Cameo Hopper and Walter Veale Edited by: Marti Lynch All rights reserved. eBook ISBN: 978-0-9907945-2-3 Print Book ISBN: 978-0-9907945-3-0 Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Lake, Autumn Jones Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC, Book 2) / Autumn Jones Lake

CHAPTER ONE

I hate birthdays.

Well, at least I hate my birthday. Although, this year, I have a lot to celebrate. I’m finally with the person I want to grow old with. Maybe this year’s birthday ain’t so bad. Given the sort of life I lead, I should be thrilled I even make it to my birthday each year. It’s been a few weeks since Hope and I had our heart-to-heart, subsequent disagreement, and the drama at the courthouse. I feel lighter since coming clean with her. Well, sort of. I still have lots of things I’m hiding, but little by little I plan to share everything with her. We’ve spent a lot of time together, and I’ve never been happier. Still there’s things I’ve neglected—nothing important, like weekly church, where we sit down to discuss club business—but I definitely need to show my face at the clubhouse tonight. I’ve managed to negotiate a few good deals for the MC from my home office, usually with Hope sitting on my lap while I make my cryptic phone calls—so at least I have that to alleviate any guilt over my absence. As much as I’d like to spend the evening under the covers with Hope, I can’t avoid another Friday night get-together. It’s also time I reveal more about this part of my life to her. “Are you sure you want me there?” she asks for the third time tonight. She picks at the hem of her shirt as I’ve noticed she does when she’s nervous. “Of course, doll.” Placing a hand on each shoulder, I pull her closer to me. “I haven’t been for the last few weeks. I need to put in an appearance, and I want you with me. I need to start introducing you to everyone as my woman.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Your woman. You sound like a caveman.” The corners of my mouth turn up. “You say that like it’s an insult.” “I just feel so out of place around your friends.” I sigh and suffer a bit of guilt. I hate making her uncomfortable. And it’s quite possible things could get very uncomfortable for my girl tonight. “Your place is with me, doll.” That seems to cheer her up, and she tosses her hands in the air. “Well, what do I wear?”

I thrust my fingers through my hair. Normally, I’d say as little as possible. But I don’t want Hope showing those fuckers any more skin than necessary. I wonder if she has a snowsuit? “Something comfortable. We’re riding my bike up.” That gets a smile out of her. My girl has taken to the bike more than I expected she would. She’s my perfect blend of sweet and wild. She dashes into her closet. As I’m standing there, clothes, hangers, and shoes start flying through the air. Some of it lands on the bedroom floor at my feet. I shake my head at the mess she’s making. I’m going to need to give my baby an entire room to use as a closet. That way I can just shut the door on the whole thing. If I ever get her to move the fuck in with me. Fuck. I’m distracted by her bending over, tipping her perfect, denim-covered ass in my direction. I’m so close to skipping the party, except that I know the club will have something planned for my birthday. We haven’t been together long enough that I bother mentioning the day to Hope. It’s not as if I’m some little kid expecting a present. Just being with her every second I can get has been enough of a gift. No reason to get greedy. She’s finally ready and proudly shows off her LOKI T-shirt. It’s all my favorite things: blue, tight, and tiny—with my club’s logo spelled out right over her perfect, perky breasts. Now that’s a present. Her lips are quivering with barely concealed glee, and I notice she’s got something tucked behind her back. “Whatcha got there, doll?” Almost shyly, she swings this box out from behind her. It’s wrapped in matte black paper with a silver bow. “Happy Birthday.” I’m stunned. Completely dumbfounded. How did she even know? I’m standing there like an idiot for so long, worry steals over her face, so I reach out and take the box. It’s got some heft to it, and I’m dying to know what my girl got for me. I stagger over to the bed and drop down. She follows and stands over me, running her fingers through my hair. “I wasn’t sure what to get the big, bad biker who has everything…” It’s silly, but when she calls me that, it sends a thrill through me. “Whatever it is, I’ll love it,” I assure her. Ripping off the paper leaves my jaw hanging. “My God, Hope. How did you even find this?” I’m holding a box with a bottle of specially aged, sixteen-year-old single malt Scotch. It’s in a fancy box because it comes in a wooden frame designed to look like a Viking ship. I know it probably cost quite a bit since only 1,500 bottles were even released in the States. I can’t imagine the trouble she went to in order to track it down. “Do you think you’ll like it? I don’t know that much about Scotch or liquor in general. The guy I ordered it from told me any serious Scotch drinker would like it.” She stops and gives me that shy smile I love so much. “I really liked the ship

thingie it comes in, it reminded me of—” She stops and traces her fingers over my chest. I know she means my pirate ship tattoo, and I don’t bother correcting her because I don’t care about anything but how generous and lovely my girl is. “You’ll drink it, right?” she says, a bit of worry still clinging to her expression. “Hell, yes.” Her eyes light up, and she claps her hands together in that way that makes her look so young I feel like a dirty old man next to her. Having Hope wrapped around me on the way up to the club feels so good, I almost keep driving. The night’s cool, but the wind rushing against me brings all my senses alive. Soon enough winter will be here, and I’ll be relegated to driving my cage for months on end. I understand why the old-timers relocate to Florida. The clubhouse is already wild when we arrive. I swear I can hear the thump of music all the way down at the front gate. I drive through carefully because you never know where the party-goers will end up. I back the bike into my spot and say hello to a bunch of people outside. Hope dismounts like a pro and shakes her hair out after handing me her helmet. Random people milling around greet us, and she gives a shy wave in return. “You’re sure you want me here?” she whispers. I snag her around the waist and pull her close for a searing kiss. She’s completely dazed when I’m done with her. Against her ear, I whisper, “If you ask me again, I’m going to give you all thirty-eight of my birthday spankings when we get upstairs.” Her eyes go wide and her legs wobble, so I hold her tighter to me. “Are we clear, doll?” She nods. “Answer me,” I growl in her ear. “Yes, Rock.” “Good girl.” I give her a pat on the ass, but I don’t let her go just yet. I’ve found I have a hard time keeping my hands off of Hope no matter where we are. Makes things awkward when we’re out in the “real world” like the grocery store or post office. But this is my club, my world, so I’ll be touching her all damn night. Someone whistles in our direction, and the crunch of gravel reaches my ear. Reluctantly I let go of Hope, but I capture her hand in mine. “Prez,” Wrath greets me. He’s made his irritation over my recent absence quite clear at church every weekend. The daily, nagging texts he sends also help get his point across. With a less than friendly look, he says hello to Hope. He turns back to me, dismissing her, and I can already tell we’re going to have issues tonight. Happy Birthday to me.

Wrath hates me. I’m not sure what I’ve done to incur his…well, wrath. But he’s definitely not a fan of mine. I try to be as nice as possible, but it doesn’t get me anywhere with him. While Rock and Wrath do their death glare thing with each other, I lean over and pull the Scotch out. Rock takes it from me and slips his arm around my waist while tucking the box under his other arm. “What’s in the box, prez?” “Birthday present from Hope.” Wrath glances at me with a surprised expression. Why is everyone shocked I got my boyfriend a present for his birthday? Inside is an eye-opener. It’s about thirty degrees warmer, and I am way overdressed. The scene makes me appreciate that Rock told me to dress comfortably. The memo the rest of the girls inside got clearly stated “clothing optional.” The scent of sex, weed, and alcohol permeates everything. A crowd forms at the door, and we barely make it inside. Everyone is excited to see Rock. People shout and tug at him. He smiles and acknowledges each person in that easy manner I envy so much. Turning to me, he bends down. “You okay?” I nod. Because he can sense how overwhelmed I am, he seats me in a corner of the couch in the back of the room. “I want to go lock this up. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” As he steps away, he slaps a hand on Wrath’s shoulder and whispers something to him. Wrath’s gaze flicks in my direction and he nods once. As Rock moves farther away into the crowd, his big, mean Viking friend pushes his way through the group toward me. “Didn’t think this would be your scene,” he shouts over the music. He drops down next to me on the couch, sending me bouncing into the air a little. I’m not sure how to respond. Anything I say is bound to be offensive to Wrath or an outright lie. So instead I just smile as if I’m a bit daft. “How long have you and Rock known each other?” I ask out of curiosity. Rock has explained that Wrath functions as his “enforcer” in the club. I have no clue what that means, but judging from the guy’s bulging muscles and scarred knuckles, it’s clearer. “Long damn time.” “Did you meet through the club?” “No. We knew each other before. Knew Z too.” He nods at a tall guy across the room. I recognize the dark hair, simmering blue eyes, and neck tattoo. He took my friend Lilly home the night Rock and I got together. He’s surrounded by at least

three different barely dressed girls at the moment. I make a mental note to ask Sophie if Lilly and Z have anything going on. “We all prospected together. Very different time.” I don’t know what to say. “Oh.” “You know much about MCs, Hope?” “No. I mean, only what I’ve learned from Rock.” He nods, his gaze roaming all over me. He visually gropes me for so long, my skin heats under his scrutiny. “What are you doing here then?” he finally asks. My brows pull together. What kind of question is that? “I’m here with Rock.” He shakes his head. “What’s a woman like you doing with my president? You guys got nothing in common.” Tears sting my eyes, but I’m not going to let this asshole intimidate me. “I like him, and he likes me.” He shakes his head like I’m too dense to get his point. “You’re just as clueless as Cinda-fuckin-rella aren’t you? He doesn’t ‘like’ you. He’s fuckin in love with you. As in droppin’ responsibilities and getting us into bad shit in love with you. And you’re just over there in your little preppy, lawyer world, thinking what exactly? You’ll take a walk on the wild side? Throw on some leather and be one of us? You ain’t ever gonna be one of us, sweetie.” His words are brutal and they strike their target. He isn’t saying anything I haven’t already thought of, he’s just saying it a lot meaner. Straightening my spine, I’m determined not to let this asshole get to me. “Are you sure you’re not in love with him, Wrath? You sound like a jealous boyfriend,” I snap back. My words hit him and his nostrils flare. I’m a little frightened, actually. Suddenly the hard lines of his face diminish, and he lets out a loud chuckle. “Well, fuck if you aren’t a spitfire.” “Well, fuck if you’re not a big jerk.” “That I am, sugar.” He grins a big, goofy grin at me. The total opposite of the menace he displayed seconds ago—until Rock comes up and kicks him in the calf. “That did not look like a friendly conversation, asshole. I told you to look after Hope, not terrorize her.” Rock motions for me to stand and then steals my seat. He pulls me onto his lap, and I snuggle up against him, relieved he’s returned to save me from his jerkface friend. Wrath cocks his head and takes us in. “We’re solid. Right, Hope?” I want to say “no, you’re an asshole,” but I feel like I’m close to passing some sort of test with him. “Yup. Wrath was just giving me the lay of the land.” Rock squeezes the curve of my hip, his hand sneaking under the hem of my Tshirt to brush against my bare skin. I shiver. His other arm is draped over my thighs, holding me tight to him. At last a familiar, friendly face stops by. I sit up straight so I can greet her. “Hi. Trinity, right?”

She’s wearing a lot more makeup than the last time we met, but she’s the only other woman here wearing jeans and an entire shirt, so I’m extra happy to see her. “Yeah. Good to see you again, Hope.” My gaze drifts over to Wrath who is watching Trinity with uncomfortable intensity. Trinity completely ignores him, all of her focus on Rock. She taps his shoulder with her fist. “You want a drink, Rock-around-the-clock?” Underneath me, I feel him chuckle. I remember last time she called him “rockn-roll,” so I guess this is their thing. Geez, how many times has he fucked her? Instantly, I’m insanely jealous. “Will you bring me a Crown and Coke, please, hon? Hope, what do you want?” What is this poor girl supposed to be, a waitress for the whole club? That kinda sucks. Wait, why am I feeling bad for her when she’s probably fucked my boyfriend sixty ways from Sunday? “I’m okay. Um, maybe just water with lime?” Next to me Wrath snickers, and Trinity spares him a glance. It’s really more of a glare, and I’m kind of warming up to her now. Rock traces a finger over my collarbone, pushing my hair behind my shoulder. My eyelids flutter as he presses his lips against my ear. “You still like margaritas, doll?” I nod because I can’t speak with him touching me. “Bring her a margarita, please, Trinny. Not too heavy on the tequila—she’s a bit of a lightweight.” Wrath snorts, and Trinity ignores him this time. “Sure. I’ll be right back.” Now I feel like a jerk. It’s one thing for her to serve Rock in his club, but it’s not fair for her to be fetching me drinks. I try to push myself off Rock. “Hold on, Trinity, I’ll help you.” She turns back to me with wide eyes and shakes her head. “I got it.” I couldn’t follow her if I wanted to anyway, because Rock has banded his arms around me and is keeping me anchored to his lap. “Let Trinny do her job. Your job is to sit here and decorate my lap.” A lick of anger tightens my belly. Rock must sense the shift in my mood because his lips are at my ear again. “Doll, if you get up now, it will be uncomfortable for everyone. You’ve given me one hell of hard-on from sitting there looking like a virgin in a whorehouse.” His deep voice buzzing against my skin does obscene things to my insides. I turn and whisper in his ear. “You know damn well I’m no virgin.” Then I wriggle a bit to confirm his story. He groans into my ear. “Careful,” he rumbles in that sexy, low, gravelly voice that makes me so weak. The teasing is too much—I need a taste, so I lean in and catch his lips with my own. His hands come up to cup my face, twining in my hair and pulling me tight to him. I hear Wrath muttering and feel the couch shift, but I don’t care. High school has to be the last time I made out with someone in a public place like this, but I can’t call up a bit of shame. His heart thumps against the hand I have curled on his chest,

while the rough prickle of his stubble tickles my other palm. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against mine. “I need to take you upstairs,” he says low enough that only I can hear him. Thank goodness. There’s definitely people doing more than making out in this room, and I’m glad Rock doesn’t expect that of me. There’s a small part of me that’s concerned I’m so far under Rock’s spell that I’d pretty much do anything he asked. Before we can escape, the lights dim and people start singing—well, shouting— happy birthday. Trinity and two other girls I haven’t met are carrying a huge cake lit with at least thirty-eight candles. Rock’s laughter rolls over me and he sits up a little bit as the girls approach, jostling me forward. I attempt to stand so I’m not in the way, but Rock holds me tight. The girls stop in front of us. One of them is giving me the shifty stink eye. Trinity winks at me. I feel stupid that I didn’t help them plan anything for my boyfriend’s birthday. Wrath’s words about me not fitting in start to mess with my head, and again I try to stand. Rock pulls my hair into a makeshift ponytail at the base of my neck. “Help me blow the candles out, sweetheart—there’s a fuck lot of them.” I chuckle, because he’s a clever bastard. He’s not only made sure my hair won’t catch fire, he’s got me tethered to him with my hair being held hostage. We lean over together and blow the candles out, getting every last one. The girl that’s been giving me the drop dead glare says in breathy-fake voice, “make a wish.” Rock laughs. “I already got my wish,” he says, pulling me tight against him once more. I angle my head to the side and kiss his cheek. “Aw, thanks.” “We’re going to set this at the bar and cut it. I’ll come bring you guys a slice. I didn’t forget the drinks either,” Trinity says with a sheepish smile. Rock reaches out and catches her hand. “Thanks, Trinny.” “Happy Birthday, Rockstar,” she says before taking off. I want to ask him about her, but I don’t know what to say without sounding like a crazy person. Besides, Wrath is still near, and I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of my insecurity. “Okay, now I really need you naked, Hope.” This time he says it loud enough that Wrath hears it and responds with an obscene whistle. Ignoring Wrath, I whip my head around. “We can’t leave now. They’re bringing you cake.” He shakes his head. “You’ll hurt their feelings if you don’t stay,” I protest. “You’re such a sweetheart, but you forget I’m the king of this jungle, baby.” It’s so absurd, I laugh, but I see he’s only half joking. A wicked smile lights up his face, and he pulls me so I’m now straddling his lap, shifts his hands under my ass, and lifts us off the couch. “God, you’re strong,” I whisper. “It’s so fucking sexy.”

His mouth twists into that panty-dropping smile of his. “Wrap your legs around me and hold on.” I’m a little embarrassed being carried around like this, but it also turns me on like crazy. He swings by the bar, and Trinity pushes a plate piled high with cake into my hand while giving me a sweet smile. Before we can turn back to the stairs, there’s a lot of yelling and commotion at the front door. One of the guys—whose name I don’t know—Zero, and two girls walk through the front door. I recognize the tall, skinny blonde right away. “Happy Birthday, Mr. President!” Inga shouts. The plate of cake in my hand splatters on the floor.

CHAPTER TWO

F ucking hell. Why on earth is Inga here?

In the four or five years I’ve known her, she’s never once come to the clubhouse. I prefer to keep the dancers separate from the MC. Otherwise, lines get blurred, and shit gets complicated. Like this kind of complicated. Hope unwraps her legs from me and slides down to the floor. I steady her with an arm around her waist. Now, Inga is most certainly not the only girl in this room I’ve fucked. Without even turning my head, I can count at least three others. But Inga is the only one Hope knows for a fact I’ve fucked, making for one hell of an awkward situation. I don’t want her uncomfortable in my clubhouse. I shoot a glare at Zero and Dex. I expect the “what the fuck” is coming through loud and clear in my expression. “Uh, Inga knew it was your birthday, heard there was a party, and asked if she could follow Dex up,” Z gets out before I clock him. Inga pops a hand on her hip and settles into one of her favorite poses. “Hey, Big Poppa, it’s been a minute.” I really hate her fucking nickname for me. She leans in to give me a kiss, but I hold my hand up. Her wounded expression might bother me except I’m so furious, I can’t find a single fuck to give. Her eyes shift to Hope and widen in shock. “Hey, Hope.” She swings her gaze back to me, and I can already see the questions forming. “Hope and I just ran into each other not that long—” “I know. She told me.” Actually, because of that run-in, Hope and I had a heartto-heart that cemented our relationship. Lucky for Inga, the memory of that conversation lessens my fury at her surprise appearance. She pops her hand back on her hip, and this time my eyes are drawn to her almost non-existent outfit. The only way to describe the black leather and gold shiny stuff is a sort of biker-meets-school-girl-hooker costume. “Why didn’t you tell me you guys were together?” Inga asks Hope. “It’s recent. And none of your business,” I answer. Hope still hasn’t moved or said a word. Not at all ruffled, Inga continues as if this falls right into line with her plans.

“Well, this here is my friend Peach. She’s touring with me, and we wanted to do a special show just for you as a birthday present. Dex said you guys got a private room here.” Like fuck am I going in there alone with her and “Peach.” She leans in closer. “Peach and I just did a film together, and I brought you an advance copy.” She reaches into her smart-car-sized purse and pulls out a thick DVD case with a topless Inga on it. Fantastic. Could this night go to shit any faster? Wrath walks up and snatches the movie out of my hand, finally making himself useful. “Fuckin awesome. We’ll toss this in the player out here. Thanks, Inga.” She looks put out but recovers quickly. “So, where’s the private room?” Z points down the hall. “It’s probably full. I’ll go clear it out.” “Uh, where’s Murphy?” I glance around for my ginger Road Captain. I spot Wrath by the television. “Wrath? Get back here.” Wrath and Murphy lumber up. “Inga’s gonna do a private show.” She frowns at the addition of the other guys. “It’s a big room, Ing.” “Peach too,” Inga says. “You know no one here is paying either of you, right?” I remind her. She laughs, “Poppa, I didn’t come here for money.” I wish you hadn’t come at all. “Cookie,” Murphy yells, and she comes running. Wrath picks Trinny up and tosses her over his shoulder before heading down the hall. She playfully slaps his ass, and I wish those two would just get it over with. People head down the hall, thank fuck, because I am planning to escape upstairs with Hope. When we’re finally not surrounded by ears and eyes, I pick her up and set her on the bar. “Baby doll, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that was going to happen.” There’s no reason to pretend I don’t know why this is awkward. She runs a hand over my cheek looking so damn sad, I want to wrap my hands around Z’s neck and squeeze really hard. “You can go. I’ll, uh, wait upstairs.” “Fuck, no.” She hangs her head. “Do you want me to go home?” Christ. “Baby. No. I want to go upstairs with you. Fuck, why don’t we just leave and go to your house?” She smiles at me like she doesn’t quite believe me. “Rock! Show’s about to start,” Wrath shouts. Fuck me. “Come on, Hope. Hurry.” Trinny yells. Hope turns and sees Trinity waving at her to join them. Wrath’s doing some ridiculous bump and grind dance behind Trinity that I will make fun of him for until

the day he fucking dies. Hope giggles and hops off the bar. She holds out her hand to me. “Let’s go, birthday boy.” Z must have realized the error of his ways because his ass is firmly planted in the chair Inga clearly reserved for me. Swan sits in his lap, giggling and whispering in his ear. Inga’s frustrated, but she knows better than to mess with Z. Wrath and Trinity are sitting in the middle of the plush bench that runs against the wall. Dex and Cookie are spread out a little farther down from them. Murphy is perched on the bench on the other side of the room. I pull Hope into a corner spot and position her on my lap so I can watch her face. At the first sign of unease across her pretty features, we are gone. The opening notes of “Rock You All Night Long” come over the speakers, and I groan. Some time ago, the girls at the club decided that should be my theme song, and not a night went by when at least one of them would throw it on. The song brings up a lot of old memories. Not unpleasant ones, but not what I want to think about anymore. Honestly, this is awkward as fuck. That part of my life needs to stay in my rearview so I can move forward with my girl. Instead, the two worlds are colliding violently tonight. Burying my face in Hope’s neck, I let her sweet scent relax me. Realizing she’s breathing heavy, I lift my head. She’s watching the girls intently, lips parted. Well, fuck me. My girl’s into this. Okay, then. “You all right?” I ask. “Never seen anything like this,” she answers without taking her eyes off the girls. That’s fine. I’ve seen enough porn star flesh to last a lifetime. But Hope? This is a brand new vision, and I want to sear it into my memory to take with me when I’m on long rides without her. I can’t take my eyes off her. The expression that flickers over her face fascinates me. The corner we’re in is pretty dark, so I pull her back against my chest and shift my legs so that hers fall open. Holding both her hands in one of mine, I press them between her breasts. I work my other hand between her legs. Rubbing the seam of her jeans. Feeling the heat pouring from her center. Her breath hitches, and she squirms in my grasp. My lips find the pulse point at her neck where I nip and suck at her sensitive skin until she’s trembling. “Rock,” she gasps. At her tone, I glance up and realize a half-dressed Inga is headed our way. Removing my hand from between Hope’s legs, I mutter a curse. Inga—she devil that she is—pulls Hope out of my lap and into the middle of the floor. The guys hoot and encourage this insanity. I’m going to kill every one of them. Inga and Peach are all over my girl. Hope is being a good sport, trying to dance

along with the two pros. Damn, if she isn’t sexy as fuck doing it too. Of course, Inga encourages Hope to take her top off. Oh, fuck, no. Trinity jumps into the fray, distracting Inga with her wild dance moves. Damn, I love that girl. Wrath yells “take it off” to Hope or Trinny, I’m not sure. Trinity flips him off and starts giving Dex a lap dance. That’s my cue to get my woman. Because…nope. Not happening. What’s under Hope’s clothes belongs to me alone, and if she’s giving anyone a lap dance tonight —it’s me. Pulling a page from Wrath’s caveman handbook, I toss Hope over my shoulder and head into the hallway. She’s giggling and thankfully not at all pissed. The volume in the room detonates after the door closes behind us. God only knows how far Inga will go. I’ve never seen her amped up like this. Upstairs. Please, can I just get my woman upstairs? No. Of course not. Teller stops me at the foot of the stairs. So fucking close. “Prez, can I have a word?” “Yeah, of course.” I motion him to a corner of the room where the least amount of debauchery is going on. Hope takes the detour in stride. Once again she’s on my lap. This time she’s more engaged with the crowd around her. She nods and smiles at people when they stop over to say hello. I know how shy she is, so I appreciate the effort she’s making. Teller is laying out some personal shit. I feel for the kid. He’s only been a fullpatched member for a little over seven years, but he stepped up to be treasurer when I needed him to and he’s a hard worker. Unfortunately, none of that work gets reported to the government. “I gotta get custody of Heidi. She’s going to end up killing our grandmother. Just two more years ‘til she’s eighteen. My lawyer says I gotta show I have a steady job. Something on the books.” “Okay. I’d put you on at CB, but I don’t think working at a strip club is going to help you get custody of your sixteen-year-old sister.” He snorts. “My bike shop is official. I could set up payroll or something for that.” Not to be a dick, but that’s a lot of extra hassle I don’t feel like dealing with. Voices get louder from down the hall—sounds like the party in the champagne room is winding down. Glancing up, I spot Trinity fuming and call her over. “Where’s Wrath?” She practically snarls, “Trying to fuck Inga or Peach.” I lift an eyebrow, and she shrugs. I’m not surprised Wrath would go after a girl he knew I’d been involved with, but that he would do it in front of Trinity tonight does surprise me. A flash of his blond hair catches my attention. Fucker’s trying to sneak upstairs with Peach. My voice easily carries over the crowd. “Wrath! Get over here.” He turns and gives me a face full of pissed off, but strides over. He glances at

Trinity, and she ignores him. “What’s doin’, prez?” “I need you to do a brother a solid. Can you put Teller on the books at the gym?” He glances at Teller. “Yeah, of course. I’ll find something. Full time?” “Yeah, club will cover it.” “No prob. You didn’t have to call me over now to do it.” I’m glad he’s going to help out. But I’m still pissed at the way he’s treated Trinny tonight—time for a lesson. “I also need you to bring some stuff down to CB. Got a call from them earlier.” His jaw drops. Trinny ducks to the side and stuffs down a giggle. “Fuck, prez. You serious? Send a prospect.” I arch a brow. “Fine. Fuck.” He shoves his fingers through his hair and tries to locate Peach, who has disappeared into the crowd. I nudge Hope. “Baby doll, give me a minute, okay?” “Of course.” She scoots off my lap, but before I get up, she swoops in and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Stay here,” I instruct Hope. I glance at Trinity. “Will you sit with her?” As our longtime club girl, I want Trinity to give Hope some info. “Of course.” She immediately drops next to Hope, and the two of them start chatting. Satisfied Hope will be okay, I pull Wrath to the door. “Why you giving me bitch work, Rock? Fuck, man, Peach is a fucking porn star. I wanna hit that.” While he’s whining about Peach, his eyes are focused behind me where Hope and Trinity are. Tilting my head into his line of vision, I give it to him straight. “Then don’t be making a play for Trinity and two seconds later someone else right in front of her. We fucking talked about this. God damn.” He pulls his stare to me and smirks. “Think she’s up for a three-way?” I shake my head. This asshole never quits. Suddenly he’s all business. “Be serious, prez. You need me to go down to CB or not?” I’ve made my point. No reason to make him drive down there and back for nothing. “No. Just tone it down.” “I like Hope, he says out of nowhere. “Like I give two fucks.” “No, seriously. I gave her shit before, and for a second I thought she was going to cry and you were going to murder me, but then she just dished it right back.” I laugh, although I do kinda want to throat punch him for trying to upset my girl on purpose. Before I get the chance, Z’s at my back. “Yo. Dex wants to nail Inga. You cool with that?” “Why are you asking?”

Z shrugs. “I may partake as well.” Christ. “She’s fair game. We haven’t been a thing for a year and a half.” “Fuck—why didn’t you say so sooner?” “Am I required to update you on where I park my dick now?” Z gags. Wrath laughs. Z straightens up and throws Dex a thumbs up. “Hey, I’m sorry Dex and I brought them up. I didn’t realize Hope would be here. This asshole said it would be okay.” He jerks his thumb at Wrath. “Surprise, surprise,” I grumble. “What?” Wrath has the nerve to make a “who me” face. Maybe the girls fall for that shit. I don’t. “Go meet me in the conference room.” “Now?” I ignore him and turn to Z. “Take a run at Peach. Just remember, they’re both employees at the dance club. Treat them with respect, even if they don’t treat themselves with any.” The corner of Z’s mouth lifts in a smile. “Yeah. I got you.” Wrath glares at me while Z flips him off and flees. “Not cool, prez.” I grab him by the back of the neck and aim him in the direction of our war room. “Stop acting like a little bitch. It’s my birthday. Come have a drink with someone older and wiser.” I slip my keys out of my pocket and open the door, closing it quietly behind us. “What up?” “I wanna show you something.” “Should I be scared?” Wrath scared of anything is hilarious. “Don’t be a dick.” Unlocking my personal cabinet, I pull out the bottle of Scotch Hope gave me and show it to Wrath. “No shit. Where’d you get that?” “Birthday present from Hope.” He whistles. “Nice present.” I set out two glasses. “You’re going to open it now?” “What better time?” Wrath’s hard stare drills into me, and he shakes his head. “I can’t believe you brought her here. It’s like corrupting fucking Cinderella or something.” My laughter is forced because, while it’s an accurate description of the night, I’m not happy about it. I pour the Scotch and hand him one of the glasses. After swirling the caramel-colored liquid around for a bit, he holds up the glass. “May you live to be a hundred years with one extra year to repent.” “Ha. I’ll repent nothing.” We clink and tip our glasses back. “Fuck, that’s good.”

“Smooth and spicy,” I agree. “So, this thing with her is serious?” His question annoys me for some reason, and it takes me a second to consider how I want to answer. “I feel like we’ve already had this conversation before, brother.” As usual, nothing fazes him. “Someone like her might be better off as a citizen wife,” he suggests. Wrath is brave for even mentioning such a thing. The idea of keeping Hope away from such a big part of my life leaves me cold. “Too late now.” “You tell her everything?” “No.” “You gonna?” I turn this over in my mind before answering. Everything? What’s everything? How we earn? I’m pretty sure she already suspects. That I’ve fucked around a lot? I think that’s been made more than obvious tonight. That I preemptively killed two cold-blooded bastards to keep her safe? I’ll keep that one to myself for now. “Eventually. As a lawyer for the club, she can’t spill anything anyway. What we tell her is confidential. She becomes my wife, it will be like double protection.” Wrath nods, looking relieved. Has that been his problem all along? “Wife. Wow. Okay. Ol’ lady status isn’t enough?” he asks with an eyebrow lift. When I shake my head, he continues. “You got it bad for this broad, don’t ya?” Unlike some of my brothers, I’m not afraid to express my feelings for the woman I care about. “She’s not a broad. And yes.” “No disrespect intended. I like that she can hang. Trin seems to like her too.” “Good. They can be helpful to each other.” Wrath nods, so I guess I don’t need to spell it out for him for a change. I pick up the bottle of Scotch and our glasses. “Go park your ass on the couch and make sure Trinny isn’t scaring Hope away.”

“You doing okay with all this?” Trinity asks as soon as the guys are out of earshot. Well, except for Teller, who is so furiously texting someone, I doubt he hears anything we say. “Yeah.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know what the guys were thinking bringing Inga

here.” She stops and gives me a level stare. “I’ve never slept with Rock, if you’re wondering.” That’s a huge relief. “I can only imagine what you’ve heard.” She flings her hand toward the open room. “What’s your role here?” I’m honestly curious. “Well, club took me in about eight years ago. I have a room here. Club pays my expenses. I kind of take care of the place, clean up after these pigs. And I make myself available to the guys on an as-needed basis.” I’m not really sure what to say to that. “Why?” She shrugs and thankfully doesn’t seem offended. “I dunno. I grew up around MCs, so I guess I just feel safer around one.” “Safe?” I’m not sure if “safe” is the word I would use for hanging around a bunch of guys who could snap me like a twig. “Have you seen these guys?” She gestures toward Wrath, who is heading our way with a determined expression. “Wrath is a dick, sure, but he’d never let anyone hurt me.” “I wouldn’t let anyone mess with you either, mama,” Teller remarks without looking away from his phone. Trinity giggles and punches his arm. The corner of his mouth twitches, and he winks. Lowering my voice, now that I know Teller is more alert than I thought, I ask her. “Why aren’t you a member? They don’t allow women to be members, do they?” She hesitates. “I don’t know if any have ever asked. These types of clubs don’t usually have women members.” “What type is that?” I’m so confused with all their specific, odd rules I don’t understand. “Outlaw, outlaw, outlaw…” Teller chants for no discernible reason. “Giddy-up, brother!” Wrath shouts as he approaches, giving Teller a fist bump. Oh, goody—more grief from the big, blond Viking to look forward to. Trinity continues educating me. “Look. I grew up around bikers. My dad was in a nasty MC. Got shanked in prison when I was ten, but before that he owned a tattoo shop where all the guys would hang. I saw lots of shit growing up. From what I understand, LOKI was in rough shape when Rock took over. But he and Wrecking Ball,” she says, jerking her thumb at Wrath, who blows her a kiss, “and Z whipped the club into shape. Rock’s a good guy. He takes care of everyone. He’s responsible for the family. Women aren’t disrespected here. Rock doesn’t allow it. You know, besides the normal antics of the male pig.” For some reason, Wrath takes those words as a cue to squeeze in between Trinity and Teller. Hauling Trinity into his lap, he grins from ear to ear like she just paid him a compliment. “Ugh, get offa me, you beast.” She slaps at his hands, but he wraps himself

around her tighter, resting his chin on the crown of her head as if he has no idea what her problem is. Curious about her story, I ask. “How did you find these guys?” Trinny waves her hand in the air, then settles it against Wrath’s arms encircling her waist. “Club girls know how to find bikers.” “Fuck yeah, baby,” Wrath says in a low, rumbling tone that even makes my tummy flutter. As I watch, he takes her ear lobe between his teeth, flicking his tongue back and forth. Her eyes flutter shut for a second and then she elbows him in the chest until he lets go. She continues as if I hadn’t witnessed the intimate moment between them. “But honestly, I was tending bar downtown with this girl.” She turns to Wrath. “You remember Stormy?” “Yup. Poser skank.” She tilts her head as if his assessment is accurate. “She kept telling me about LOKI, and having known bikers since I was a kid, I found her story a little hard to believe.” Wrath pulls his head back, looking indignant. “Cause she made us sound like a bunch of pussies?” “No.” Trinity clarifies. “That you weren’t a bunch of pigs. Although she was wrong on you.” “Oink.” “Exactly.” “So where is she now?” I ask. Wrath shifts his long legs, rolling Trinity in his lap. She wriggles, trying to keep upright, causing Wrath to moan. “Watch it, woman.” “She was not about this life,” Teller answers my question after shooting a glare at Trinity and Wrath. “What? Riding motorcycles?” As usual, I’m having trouble following their jargonized language. The way the three of them share a look, I know I’ve just made an ass out of myself. Why, I have no idea, since everyone keeps insisting it’s just a “club.” “Thug life,” Teller remarks. I smile because I think it’s a joke. “You’re not thugs. Well, you probably are,” I say pointing at Wrath. “I definitely am,” he says, meeting my stare. “Anyway,” Teller continues, smoothing over the awkward moment. “Stormygirl found herself a nice citizen husband.” My blank stare is enough that I don’t have to voice the “what the heck is that” on the tip of my tongue. Both Wrath and Teller focus their stony glares on me, but Wrath is the one who delivers the lecture. “She was one of those good girl types lookin’ to take a walk on the wild side. You know, spice up her dull, sheltered life? Attaching herself to outlaws made her feel special,” Wrath says. It’s similar to the speech he gave me

earlier. Shame—I’d just started to think he might not be a complete asshat. Trinity seems alarmed by how intense this conversation suddenly turned. “That’s not entirely true. She got tired of being passed around. No one was gonna claim her back then, and she really wanted to get married and start a family.” Wrath sneers. “No one was claiming club ass. Back then.” A flash of anger lights up her face, but she doesn’t respond. Instead, she leans forward and lowers her voice. “From what I hear, Rock hasn’t been with any of the club girls in like a year or something.” She straightens up. I already know this because Rock admitted it to me the afternoon we had our heart-to-heart in his garage. But it still feels good to have confirmation from an inside source. “All the girls gossip about the guys,” she says with a snicker. Teller chuckles. “Boys compare notes too.” Gross. Wrath’s jaw and his hold on Trinity tightens. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know. Me and Rock. Never.” She makes a slashing motion with her hand. Wrath’s gaze shoots toward the ceiling. She continues. “He’s more like a big brother or father figure—” “Fuck, Trinny. I am not old enough to be your dad.” Rock’s back. A smile breaks over my face. I’m so happy to see him. The education I’ve been getting, while interesting, doesn’t have a lot to do with our relationship. Trinity flushes eight shades of red. “Sorry. You know what I mean.” The party seems to be winding down out here, but there’s still a lot of noise going on around us. The music has been lowered, and sex noises can pretty much be heard from every direction. Rock traces his finger over my cheek. “You okay, doll?” I nod, enjoying his touch. Someone comes over, taps his shoulder, and they turn away to talk. Wrath clears his throat. “Uh…Hope, I’m sorry about Inga coming here tonight. I gave the okay for it. I didn’t think Rock would actually bring you to a club party.” Trinity must be as shocked as I am. She twists in his grasp and presses the back of her hand against his forehead. “You feeling okay, Wyatt?” For a second, the hard lines of his face settle into something softer before he shakes off her hand. “What? I’m not a total dickhead. I know it’s not cool to bring the piece around an ol’ lady. Or former piece, as the case may be.” “I have the feeling if I try to decipher that, I’m going to be offended.” I’m only half joking. Trinity lets out a huge laugh, and Wrath opens his mouth. “Well, you’re his ol’ lady apparently—” “No. Just stop. Stop talking. Trinity giggles, while covering his mouth with her hand.

“Always good advice, brother.” Teller says, looking up from his phone finally. “So, Hope. Rock says you’re a lawyer and you do family court work?” Teller asks. Oh no. I feel it coming. Please don’t. “You heard what I told Rock earlier. I’m trying to get custody—” “Uh, I was. I haven’t practiced law in a while.” Wrath frowns. “Why?” “Well, um—” “Because of that thing with Rock?” Wrath prods. I flush at the reminder of that awful day, remembering that Wrath had been there to witness my humiliation. “No. My husband died last year, and except for helping Winter out, I haven’t gone back to work since.” I can’t bear to tell these people I hardly know that it took me almost ten months to crawl out of bed after Clay’s death. “Oh, shit, Hope. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,” Trinity whispers. Wrath’s chin is now resting on Trinity’s shoulder, but his eyes are focused on me. “I’m sorry, Hope. I forgot.” “That’s okay.” I wonder how much of my story Wrath knows. How much do these guys share with each other? And did I just receive another apology from Wrath? “Sorry, Hope,” Teller apologizes. “I just hate the guy that got assigned to me.” Now my curiosity is piqued. “What county?” “Johnson.” “Oh yeah, they have a small pool of lawyers on the list out there. Who did you get?” “Lenny Kozak.” It’s unprofessional, I know, but my nose wrinkles before I can stop it. Understanding lights up Teller’s eyes. “You’ve worked with him?” “Yeah. He’s smart but lazy. I hear he used to be a great lawyer, but he does the bare minimum these days. Keep after him.” “I’m back, Baby Doll,” Rock says in a voice that makes me melt. He hands me a glass of water. I take a deep sip, realizing I’m parched. We shift places, and I’m in his lap again. I never thought I’d enjoy sitting in someone’s lap, like a teenager. But here I am loving every second. Rock’s playing with my hair, and I find the movement soothing. Teller’s still watching me with bright eyes. “Did you talk to her?” Rock asks. “Yeah. She’s not working now.” I turn to face Rock, and he arches a brow at me. “You took care of that thing for Winter.” One well-muscled shoulder lifts, momentarily distracting me. “Figured you were going back and I’d get you your first new client.” I’m not comfortable discussing my career path in front of an audience. “I’m supposed to go meet with Adam this week about maybe taking over my office again.” His jaw ticks at the mention of my friend’s name. Interesting, since he’s met

Adam. “Baby doll, that is not an office. It’s a closet,” he jokes. I do a little teeth grinding of my own. I’m so pissed he just embarrassed me in front of his friends. As he takes in my reaction, his body tenses underneath me. What does he think I’m going to do—blow up here in front of everyone? A big, burly red-headed guy walks over and drops next to Teller. “Fuuck, I’m tired.” He yawns like a bear. “Hope, have you met Murphy?” Teller asks. “Not really.” Murphy sits up and leans over. Since there’s three people in our way, he waves at me. “Hi, First Lady,” he says with a chuckle. That makes Rock laugh too. “First Lady—I like it.” And he’s swishing my hair off my shoulders, tracing my neck with his fingers, once again chasing my anger away. Dammit. I shiver from his touch. Another girl I haven’t met but I’ve caught glimpses of all night joins us. She’s one of the girls who brought out the cake and gave me the stink eye the whole time she was doing it. “Geez, why don’t you just piss on his leg, girl. Damn. You been in his lap all night. We get it.” As far as greetings go, that’s pretty rude. “Uh, hi. I’m Hope.” I don’t bother trying to shake her hand—she might stab me. “Uh, hi. I’m Cookie. I’m you two years ago,” she says in a mocking tone. It takes me a minute to decode that. So she’s telling me she’s another one of Rock’s fuck buddies? Awesome. Girls have been coming up to me all night with fake smiles and hellos while insinuating they’ve fucked Rock at one time or another. Cookie is the only who’s had the balls to be such a nasty bitch about it. With the exception of Trinity, from now on I’m going to assume Rock has stuck his dick in anyone with a vagina who sets foot in this den of sin. Wrath snorts. “Hardly.” “Cookie,” Rock warns. “You’re being rude to my woman.” She takes a step back, the whites of her eyes showing. Apparently the “my woman” thing hits home. But not for long. “Well, she ain’t gotta be so uppity. Bragging about being a lawyer and shit. I saw her leave the champagne room before. Thinks she’s too good to hang with us?” See, now that is hilarious to me, because I am pretty sure I have never once bragged about being a lawyer in my life. One, because the reality of being a lawyer sucks. Two, for this very reason here. People have unpredictable, asshole-y reactions to hearing that information. “Are you fucking stupid?” Trinity snarls. “Rock carried his woman outta there. We all saw it. Bitch, go sit down,” she finishes with a flick of her wrist. Why thank you, Trinity.

Wrath’s forehead is pressed against Trinity’s back, but his entire body vibrates with laughter. Asshat. “You ain’t got nothing to say?” she challenges me. When I don’t respond, she continues. “See? Uppity.” “Maybe she’s freaked out that you’re acting like a psycho-bitch?” Teller offers helpfully. True, but not helpful, Teller. Rock is oddly still. “Cookie, simmer the fuck down,” he grits out. But maybe Cookie is stupid, because she ignores Rock and takes one more jab. “Fuck you too, Trinity. You wanna suck up to this uppity cunt, go ahead, but don’t forget you’re a whore like the rest of us.” I’ve never been called a cunt before. At least not to my face. And I’m furious she just called Trinity a whore, when as far as I can tell she’s the only one here who doesn’t act like a whore. Apparently that’s the last straw for Rock. He shifts me to the couch and towers over Cookie. “You’re done.” Her face transforms from rage to disbelief as it sinks in that she may have made a mistake…or ten. “Rock. I been with the club almost five years. You really gonna pick her over me?” “Cookie, you were warned multiple times.” He reaches back and flicks his hand. “Wrath.” “On it.” He pats Trinity’s ass, and she slides off his lap onto the couch, clearly unwilling to get too close to Cookie. “Let’s go.” He wraps a meaty hand around her toothpick-sized arm. It finally sinks in that the guys mean business. She starts sobbing. “I’m sorry, Rock.” Now she’s sorry. “You’re banned, Cookie. You can see if one of the other charters will take you in, but you ever show your face back here, I’ll end you.” Rock lays it all out to her with deadly calm as Wrath tugs her to the door. “Well, that was…” I have no words. Trinity snorts. “You know how I was telling you about other clubs?” Teller leans over. “She pulled that shit in another MC, disrespecting an ol’ lady, she’d be getting a beatdown or digging her own grave. Not getting a ride home.”

CHAPTER THREE

I t’s after midnight. So technically birthday sex is off the table. All I wanted tonight

was to take Hope upstairs and bury myself inside her. That’s still my plan—it just won’t be my birthday when I finally get my wish. Instead it’s been one ugly thing after another, just as I’d feared all along. No wonder it’s taken me so long to bring Hope back to the clubhouse. As I walk back to my girl after sending Cookie home with one of the prospects, I notice Hope’s got an uncertain smile stretched across her lips. Trinity and Teller appear to be trying to cheer her up. I could kiss Trinity—in apparently a fatherly way—for sticking up for Hope tonight. Wrath says she stuck up for me too earlier. When I get closer to Hope, I sense she’s angry. I mentally run over the list—and it is a long list—of things that could have pissed her off tonight. I’m impressed she hasn’t flipped out at any point this evening—another reason I’m so far gone over her. If I want to remain president, I need an ol’ lady who can keep her shit locked down and not throw a tantrum, even when she wants to choke my dumb ass. The entire trip upstairs, she’s silent. I’m concerned when we get on the other side of my bedroom door, she’s going to tell me we’re through. As soon as we’re alone, I dig into the conversation we need to have. “Let me have it, doll. How you doing?” “How am I doing?” she answers softly, pronouncing every word very carefully. Oh yeah, she’s pissed. She lifts her hand and starts ticking off my offenses. “Let’s see, you offered my legal services to someone without asking me, again.” Interesting. I didn’t expect her to lead with that. She uncurls a second finger. “You embarrassed me by insulting my office in front of all your friends. That made me feel like a fraud.” Fuck, I hadn’t meant to sound so dismissive. “Why didn’t you say something?” “What was I going to say? I’m not going to pick a fight with you in front of your friends. It’s rude.” Damn, she’s cute. And better ol’ lady material than I ever thought. “Anything else?” Finished counting, she props her hand on her hip. “What are you fishing for,

Rochlan? You want me to comment on the fact that you’ve apparently stuck your dick in every vagina here? And as if that’s not hard enough to swallow, they are complete and utter bitches about it?” I’ll admit, I’m a little turned on by the way she says my full name when she’s wound up. “I’m sorry.” She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me. “You’re sorry? You brought me here to let everyone know I was not just a ‘piece.’ And, by the way, very subtle—making me sit in your lap all night and carrying me around like your favorite chew toy. Maybe next time you can just lift your leg on me instead. But you knew there was a possibility every club girl was going to try to scratch my eyes out, and you didn’t have the decency to warn me. Oh, and my personal favorite of the night, the porn star entertainment.” “I did not know Inga was going to be here. She’s never been here before.” “Yeah, I heard.” “And I have not stuck my dick in every vagina here.” Close. “I heard that too.” “I know how strange all of this must be for you.” “Do you? You don’t even like me mentioning the names of my guy friends, but I’m supposed to hang back and act cool when some chick you used to nail gets in my face? I’m supposed to hang out with every woman who has ever sucked your dick like we’re all just one big, happy, incestuous little family?” My woman talking filthy does stuff to me. But this is serious, and we need to work through it. Plus, I’m pretty sure she will knee me in the balls if I try to get sweet with her right now. Just a feeling. “How would you like to sit around all night making polite chitchat with some guy I used to fuck?” “I wouldn’t.” Even the suggestion makes me seethe until I remember her husband is dead. Damn, I’ve been an asshole. “What do you want me to do, Hope? Should I ban every club girl I’ve been with?” It’s a real possibility. The guys will probably slit my throat, but Hope’s right. I can’t put her through another night of bullshit. The girls will be taken in by other charters. New ones will always find their way here one way or another. Fuck. I thrust my fingers through my hair. She’s got me so damn torqued up again. “Oh yeah. So everyone can hate me and think I really am a stuck-up bitch? Don’t you dare send your little muffler bunny fan club away.” Heh. I’m amused at her use of “muffler bunny” and assume she picked that up from Trinity. Without another word, Hope drops her arms to her side and marches into the bathroom. I use the time to pace because I’m pretty sure when she comes out she’s going to ask me to take her home. Instead, she surprises me by coming out dressed for bed. She shoots me a glare, walks over to her side, and crawls in. Yeah, definitely no birthday sex. But at least she’s staying. Not sure what else to say, I step into the hallway to clear my head. Catching

sight of Z, I lift my chin and he strides over. “Why aren’t you with Hope?” “Giving her a minute.” “How pissed is she?” “Very.” “Sorry.” “No. It’s on me. Where’s Peach?” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of his room. “Not worth the trouble. A little hard to hold a conversation with her.” I snort, because the idea of Z wanting to “hold a conversation” with any woman seems so unlikely. “Give her a break. It’s hard to talk with a dick in your mouth.” “I wouldn’t know.” “Very funny, asshole. Since when do you talk to a fuck-and-go?” He shrugs. “Maybe I want a slice of what you’ve found.” Hope was right to accuse me of being territorial. “You stay away from what I’ve found.” He smirks but doesn’t respond. “You know she’s going to tell her friend Lilly about this, right?” I ask, just because I feel like being a dick. His gaze darts to mine like he never considered the possibility, then he tries to act casual. “Nah, that was a one-off. She made that clear.” I raise an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. Usually Z’s the one to explain there would be no repeat performances. “I could definitely hold a conversation with her. Fucking ah-maa-zing tits too.” Looking down at the ground, he shakes his head. “But, way too smart for me.” I leave Z to work out whatever he’s got going through his head. I guess we’re all going through our midlife crises a little early. Maybe if we’re real lucky, our periods will sync up or some shit. Hope’s curled on her side when I return. Her breathing is steady, but I don’t think she’s asleep. Even so, I’m careful not to touch her when I slide into bed. I settle on my back and stare up at the ceiling. Party noises still filter in through the thick door. Suddenly, Hope turns over and curls into my side. Relief grips me so strong I almost don’t know how to react. I hook my arm around her, and she snuggles in closer. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s my fuck up, Baby Doll.” “I don’t know what I’m doing here.” Here could mean many things. In my life. In my bed. In my clubhouse. In this relationship. All those things. I don’t know which one she means, so I wait for her continue. When she finally opens her mouth, she doesn’t give me words. A slick, hot trail

teases over my chest, circling my nipple. I groan, but don’t move. She buries her face in my neck, and I wonder if she’s trying to scent another woman on me. “I was in the hall talking to Z,” I reveal. It’s so dark I can’t see her expression, but she pulls back. She shifts again and trails her tongue down my chest, then lower, tracing my abs as she goes. Another groan slips out as I sense where she’s headed. She pauses at my boxer briefs. Not knowing where we stood, I didn’t think crawling into bed without covering my jewels was a great idea. She cups my rapidly growing erection, squeezing me through the material. I bump my hips up and she tugs them off, freeing me. Without warning, her warm, wet mouth closes over my dick. “Fuck!” She takes me deep and quick. Something’s not right. Oh, it feels fantastic, but there’s a desperate edge to her movements that sets sirens piercing through my thick skull. “Stop. Stop, Baby Doll.” As she moves faster, I suck air in through my teeth. Tunneling my fingers through her hair, I still her movements and pull her up to me. My cock curses at the loss of her sweet mouth. I roll us, pin her down, and kiss her. We’re a frantic tumble of lips, tongues, and teeth. Somehow I work her shirt off. Then her shorts get tossed to the floor, and I reach out to grab a condom from the nightstand. She stops me with a hand on my outstretched arm. “You don’t need it.” It would be cruel of her to tease me at this point. “You sure?” She hums against my neck. “I’m sure. Happy birthday.” Fuck, yes. Happy birthday indeed. All her sweetness belongs to me. As I slide into my luscious girl, we are nothing but slick, hot skin on skin. I have to take a moment to enjoy her fluttering around me. So damn tight. Every bit of her is mine. “This what I’ve wanted all night long, Baby Doll.” Warms shivers of pleasure sweep through me as she runs her nails lightly up and down my back, then traces down my arms. “Me too.” “This is all I ever want,” I admit. Somehow in the dark it’s a lot easier to spill these secrets. “I know.” Slow strokes. Enjoying every bare inch with nothing between us. Fucking fantastic. I burrow my arms under her, keeping her close. Her legs hug my hips, her heels resting on my ass. Love it. Faster now. Savoring every glide and thrust against her silky heat. I press my lips against her neck, kiss my way to her ear, and gently bite the soft lobe. “Can you feel that, Baby Doll?” I whisper against her neck. I feel her face pull into a smile, and her tight little pussy squeezes down on my cock even harder. “I feel you.” No. She’s not getting it. I have to get it out this time. She has to know—now. “No. Can you feel my heart…I love you so much.”

This is why I needed to say it in the dark. If she isn’t feeling the same, it’s gonna cut through me. A sharp intake of breath. She strokes one hand along my cheek and coos in my ear. “Rochlan—you have no idea—I love you too.” The sweetest words she’s ever spoken. I brush my lips back and forth over hers, in a silent thank you. Best birthday ever.

CHAPTER FOUR

The clubhouse is much quieter the next morning when Rock takes my hand and

leads me downstairs. I’m a little overwhelmed. We fought. We made up. For a while I didn’t think I’d be able to get the images of him and other women out of my mind. Picturing him fucking the skanks that hung out in his club or the strippers that worked for him tormented me relentlessly. The irrational and out of control feelings kept me on edge. Worrying about the past served no useful purpose—the logical part of my brain knew that. I also can’t deny that Rock has been straight with me all along. He’s never hidden his past with the club girls or dancers from me. But knowing and having it thrown in your face were two different things. I couldn’t blame him for the actions of others, though—that certainly wasn’t fair. Besides, he loves me. No matter what happens, I’ll cherish his words forever. I never, ever thought I would be this lucky to find love again. Shivers work through me when I remember the intensity of his voice as he whispered those words in my ear. His love is a precious gift that I won’t allow anyone to tarnish with their ugly words. Murmurs reach my ears before I actually see anyone. The front door shuts, and everything is quiet until we enter. “Hey, prez,” Wrath says in a hushed tone when he spots us. Trinity is tucked up against him on the couch, using his thigh as a pillow while she sleeps. Rock nods, and I wiggle my fingers as a hello. Rock throws himself onto the couch next to Wrath and tugs me down with him. He arranges my legs over his lap and leans in, pressing his lips to my ear. “Are you okay with sitting on my lap?” Shame prickles at me for the words I flung at him last night. I turn and kiss along his jaw until I reach his ear. “Nowhere else I want to be. I’m sorry I said that, I—” He captures my lips in a kiss, cutting me off. Wrath sighs audibly next to us. Rock presses his forehead to mine for a moment before turning to his friend. “You’re up early.” Wrath’s massive shoulders lift in a tight shrug. “She okay?” He jerks his chin at Trinity. The corner of his mouth tips up in a

knowing smile. Wrath’s arm is curled around her, resting on her hip. Snatching his arm away, Wrath stretches it out over the back of the couch and Rock snickers. “I didn’t get any ass last night, thanks to you,” he grumbles. Rock snorts. “Yeah, it’s all my fault you’re such a prick.” I’m staying out of this one. Although he’s nice to look at, Wrath’s personality designates him completely unfuckable as far as I’m concerned. Inwardly I cackle that he didn’t get any last night. Z pounds down the stairs next. “Morning, fuckers. Oh, hey, Hope. I’m surprised you’re still here.” Rock grunts at him and possibly calls him an asshole under his breath. Unruffled, Z spins a chair around in front of us. He straddles it, draping his arms over the back. Today he’s wearing short sleeves, and I study his inked arms a bit. Rock notices my interest in his friend and pinches my thigh. I had to sit through his ex-whatever doing a special birthday strip show for him and get bitched out by one of his muffler bunnies last night, but I can’t look at his friend’s arms? Whatever. I bat my lashes at Z, and he smirks. “Where’s Peach?” Wrath asks. “Upstairs.” “You nail her?” I feel Rock shaking his head behind me. Z shrugs before answering Wrath’s question. “She’s a shit lay. Mosta them strippers and porn stars are. They act like they’re doing ya a favor and just lay there. Fuckin boring.” I snort, then break out into a full-on giggle. “But, you still did her anyway?” I ask. “Well, yeah. Of course.” He flashes another smile at me, and I notice he’s got these adorable cheek dimples. “It’s my duty to fuck as many women as possible.” Maybe he said it to shock me, but it only makes me laugh harder. “You and Lilly really are kindred spirits.” The silly smile on his face falters. “What?” “She has a similar theory on dating.” His uncertain expression says he wants more information but doesn’t want to ask in front of the guys. Inga joins us next, ending the “strippers are a lousy lay” conversation. Pity. “Fuuuck.” She throws herself on the couch next to Trinity, jostling the poor girl awake. The two sort of glare at each other for a second. When Trinity realizes she’s been using Wrath’s thigh as a pillow and that we’ve all witnessed it, I swear she turns a little green. “Morning, Trinny,” Rock greets her with a slow grin. She mumbles something that resembles good morning and takes off down the hall. Wrath gets up and follows her. I swing my gaze to Z, silently begging him not to go anywhere and leave us alone with Inga. I get a wink in response. Planting her

hands in the couch cushions, Inga does this weird slide/crawl down the couch, giving me an eyeful of cleavage in the process. Rock’s playing with my hair, tucking wild strands behind my ear and tracing his fingers down my neck. It tickles, and I giggle. Something sad passes over Inga’s face, which nags at me. After last night, I’m feeling a lot more secure about my position in Rock’s life. With that in mind, it’s easier to recognize having this PDA moment in front of her might be a little rude, even though she once told me she had no interest in Rock romantically. Last night it seemed she came up here with some sort of expectations, and I ruined that for her. Not my fault, but I still have the twinge of guilt. Wrath comes back wearing a dejected expression and glares at Inga before sitting back down. Trinity follows and sits on the arm of the couch next to Rock. Basically, she’s as far away from Wrath as she can get and still be part of the group conversation. I swivel in Rock’s lap so I can see her. “So, I get how Dex got his nickname now,” Inga says out of the blue to no one in particular. I glance at her as she wiggles her fingers in the air. “Real good with his fingers.” She winks at Trinity as if she’s in on this joke. Ewww. Trinity’s gaze skips from me to Wrath. “That’s what I’ve heard.” Wrath shakes his head. “That’s not how he got his road name.” “So, how did you like our show last night, Hope?” Inga asks in a casual tone, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Any sympathy I might have felt for her a second ago evaporates. The dirty little tramp is up to no good. I choose to go the diplomatic route with my answer. “You’re very talented.” She cocks her head, and a mean-girl grin curls her lips. “Rocky took you away from us before we got to the good stuff. You actually move really well, once you loosen up.” While she says “loosen up,” it sounds more like “take the stick out of your ass.” “Uh, thanks.” “If you ever want lessons—I mean, you’re a little on the old side—I can teach you how to work the pole.” Rock sits up, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Knock it off, Inga.” “Yeah, she knows how to work Rock’s pole just fine,” Z adds helpfully. I flick my gaze at him, and he winks again. Deciding diplomacy is a wasted effort on Inga, I turn and pin her with what I used to think of as my courtroom stare. “Inga, I get that you used to fuck my man, but if I wanted to hang out with a bitch, I’d get a dog. Keep your thinly veiled insults to yourself, you’re not fooling anyone.” I’m proud of myself for spitting all that out without stumbling over the words. Rock coughs. Wrath and Z whoop and chortle. My brave moment passes as my cheeks heat up, and I imagine I must be furiously blushing but I refuse to lower my gaze. Finally, Rock slides his arms under my knees and stands, lifting me in the air. I gasp, grabbing at his shoulders with the sudden shift.

“You hungry, Baby Doll?” I trace my fingers over his jaw. He didn’t bother shaving this morning, and I like the scruff on him. His eyelids drop at my touch, and I marvel that I have this effect on him. “Inga, you got a ride home?” he says pointedly. “I brought my car. Waitin’ on Peach.” “She’s in my room. I’ll go get her,” Z says as he pushes out of his chair, clearly eager to get rid of Inga. She flicks her bony fingers at Z and settles into the couch cushions. “Unless you plan to wake her up with your head between her thighs, I wouldn’t bother. She’s not a morning person.” “Fuck that shit,” Z grumbles and walks off. Rock sets me down but keeps his arms around me. Behind us Inga huffs, and out of the corner of my eye, I watch her pound up the stairs. Good riddance. Trinity slides off the couch. “I’ll get breakfast started.” “Hang on, Trinny,” Rock says without taking his eyes off me. “After Ing and Peach get the fuck out, round up whoever’s awake, and we’ll go down to Hog Heaven.” A grin lights up her face. I imagine she’s thrilled not to have to cook for a pack of hungover, hungry bikers. “You want me to call and see if they’ll open the back room for us?” “Yeah. Thanks.” Rock releases me, and I glance up. He leans down and presses his forehead against mine. “Hope,” he breathes, his hands cupping my throat, thumbs brushing against my jaw. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Overwhelmed with the tenderness in his voice, my eyes flutter shut. “I’m so sorry for that scene, baby. But, I’m so proud of you.” His lips press against my forehead. I’m choking on emotions I can’t even name. Suddenly I’m acutely aware we’re not alone, so I pull away. “Do I have time to fix myself up?” His gaze travels over my face for a moment. “Sure, Baby Doll.” Pulling the keys from his pocket, he hands me the one to his room. “I need to speak with Wrath for a minute. You okay?” On the verge of tears, I choke out, “I’ll be fine.” I run upstairs, praying I won’t pass Inga on the way. If I shed one tear in front of that skank, I’ll never forgive myself. Once inside Rock’s room, I dump my bag out on the bed and sort through the clothes I brought. Figuring out what to wear helps clear my head. Hog Heaven isn’t fancy, but it’s the weekend. So, I pull out a frilly, flowy white sleeveless blouse dotted with tiny roses in various shades of blue. Holding up the new pair of jeans I brought, I go back and forth about whether I should wear them. They’re skin tight, something I would normally never wear, but they give the illusion that I actually

have an ass, and I think Rock will like them. I hurry through my shower hoping Rock will surprise me, but I have the bathroom to myself. While I’m drying my hair, the door opens, letting some of the steam out. I’m still wrapped in just a towel, and as I meet Rock’s hungry gaze in the mirror, I think it’s going to be a while before we get to breakfast.

Fury at Inga’s behavior toward Hope has my fist curling and itching to punch through the fucking wall. My girl handled herself well, but she shouldn’t have to put up with that shit. Over the years I’ve met plenty of guys who got off on a good catfight between an ex and his ol’ lady. I’ve never understood that mindset. There’s nothing sexy about having the person you love be tormented because of your past actions. If I could go back in time and toss Inga’s job application in the trash, I wouldn’t hesitate. The crazy rituals women put themselves through before going out have never interested me all that much. When I spent my nights holed up at Crystal Ball, I tended to avoid the girls’ dressing room like the plague. But, I find myself fascinated as I observe Hope. Some of that is probably because she’s standing there in only a towel. But it’s cute watching her try to pull and smooth her hair into submission. Her lips twist in annoyance when it doesn’t stay where she wants. She looks up and meets my eyes in the mirror. “I don’t know why I’m bothering. It’s just going to get messed up. I didn’t bring any of my hair stuff with me.” Coming up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss the top of her head. “You’re beautiful no matter what.” “I love that you see me that way.” I spin her around. “It’s not me. You are simply beautiful.” “Thank you.” Maybe I need to show her. “Baby doll,” I breathe against her neck. Kissing my way down her shoulder, I tug the towel from her body. With my hands cupping her hips, I back her onto the bathroom counter. Three sharp pounds against my bedroom door pull us apart. “Fuck,” I groan. Z shouts through the door. “Ding dong, bitches be gone! No time for fucking— we want food!” He slams his fist against my door a few more times. Hope shakes her head and giggles. “I guess we better hurry.”

She slides off the counter, whips out an elastic, and quickly twists her hair into a messy braid. Naked—the way I like her—she strides out of the bathroom. I pick up her towel with a shake of my head and follow. She’s wriggling her perfect ass into a pair of panties when I find her. I turn away because I’m getting worked up. After a minute, she molds herself against my back, her arms encircling me in a hug. “All set.” I turn and drink her in. Damn, she’s so fucking cute, I don’t want to take her in public where other people can see what is all mine. I finger the thin straps of her top. “You’re going to be cold.” “Oh, yeah.” She turns and bends over— “What the fuck you wearing?” “Huh?” She straightens and throws on her leather jacket. “Those jeans.” “Oh, I just bought them. Why? Are they too tight?” She spins and twists, trying to get a glimpse of her own ass. Fuck, yes, they’re too tight. “Yes,” I grind out. She stops trying to turn herself into a pretzel and walks over to the full length mirror on the back of the door. As she bends and poses in the mirror, my fists ball at my sides. She’s fucking clueless about what she does to me. Apparently satisfied, she faces me. “I think they make my butt look nice.” With a twist of the doorknob, she flings the door open and swishes out. It takes a second before I catch up to her. “You’re going to be the death of me.” She flashes a sweet smile at me and takes my hand. Holy fuck, do I love this woman. “Frank can’t give us the back room, so he said no colors, guys,” Trinity informs the small group of us who are waiting downstairs. “Fuck,” Z grumbles. No one else wanted to get their lazy asses up, so only Wrath, Z, and Trinny are out to breakfast with us. The place is packed. Although Frank couldn’t give us the back room, he does have a corner table in the back of the joint waiting for us. Hope orders some frou-frou egg thing I’m surprised to even see on the menu at Hog Heaven. Wrath is still sulking because Trinny decided to ride here with Z instead of him. Z is, of course, oblivious. Trinity chose to sit next to Hope. The two of them are talking so fast I can’t really keep up with their conversation, but I’m thankful they seem to get along so well. Hope wrinkles her nose at my sausage, biscuits, and gravy when it arrives. Placing a spoon in her hand, I tell her to try it. She hesitates, then digs in. Her eyes light up, and she moans as she licks the gravy from the spoon. “Holy crap. That is good. I wonder if I could figure out the recipe.” Wrath stares at her like she’s nuts. She licks the spoon again. “What?” Hope asks, genuinely confused.

Z chuckles and resumes shoveling in his food like someone is going to take his plate away any second. Before Frank brings the check, I wander up to the register to pay the bill. Trinny taps my shoulder while I’m waiting for my change. “Thanks, Rock.” Settling my hand on her shoulder, I give her a quick squeeze. “You’re welcome, sweetie. Everything okay?” She shrugs and nods. I don’t press her any further. I glance at our table and see Z tapping at his cell phone, a feral grin spreading over his face. “What’s he up to?” Trinity grins and shakes her head. “No idea.” “Hey, the term ‘muffler bunny’ came out of my girl’s mouth last night. You teach her that?” I’m teasing, but Trinity’s face twitches with panic. “It might have slipped out.” “I’m joking, Trinity.” She relaxes a little. “Last night would have been tough to take for anyone, but someone not used to bikers? She handled herself well, Rock. You picked a good one.” Hope and Wrath appear to be having some sort of staring contest. “He giving her shit again?” “You want me to go check?” Trinny asks. “Please.” She saunters over with a sway in her hips that takes Wrath’s attention away from my girl. Settling her hands on his shoulders relaxes him, and he tips his head up to flash a smile at Trinity. I get my change and head back to our table. Z looks up and taps Wrath. “Hey, I gotta take off. Give Trinny a lift back?” Wrath is pleased as fuck. “Yup.” When the four of us hit the parking lot, my brother stretches obscenely and runs a hand over his gut. “It’s too nice to be inside. You wanna take the girls for a ride?” Sounds like a good idea. I hug Hope to my side. “That okay with you?” A broad grin lights up her face. “Yeah, where?” Wrath looks around, trying to orient himself. “Fletcher Park isn’t far. Should be a nice view on a day like today.” Hope goes rigid next to me, and I remember she has a weird reaction to that place. I want to get her to tell me why. “Why don’t you go on ahead and we’ll meet you at the overlook?” “See you in a few.” Trinity surprises Hope with a brief hug. Once they’ve cleared the parking lot, I sit Hope on my bike. “Are you okay with going up there?” She tips her head up, squinting at the bright sky. “Yeah.” “Wanna tell me about it?” She sighs, and I can tell this has something to do with her husband, so I brace myself.

“Clay proposed up there. Not at the overlook, but the area next to it. The one with the gazebo?” Fuck, that’s bad. No wonder the place wigs her out so much. “We don’t have to go. I’ll text him and tell them we’re going to skip it,” I say pulling out my cell phone. Her soft fingers land on my arm. “No, it’s okay. I’d like to go there with you.” I search her face for a second. “If you change your mind, just say so, okay? Promise me.” “I promise.” I take my time driving us up there, giving her a chance to back out if she wants. When we reach the overlook, Trinny is standing on the low stone wall snapping pictures with her cell phone. Wrath is standing behind her with his arms wrapped around her legs even though the drop off the cliff is a good five feet away from the wall. At the sound of my bike, she turns. Wrath slips his hands around her waist and sets her on the ground. “We were wondering if you guys got lost!” She runs over and hugs Hope again. “You two looked so cute standing there,” Hope whispers to Trinny. Wrath is sitting on the wall facing us now. He lifts his chin at me, and I nod. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Hope snag Trinny’s cell and push her toward Wrath. This should be interesting. But instead of grouching about it, Wrath pulls Trinity between his knees, hugs her close, and allows Hope to snap a bunch of pictures. Trinny giggles and waves me over. “Your turn! Come on, Rock-steady.” A warm feeling settles over me as I wrap my arms around Hope, and Trinity takes a bunch of pictures. I grab a few shots of just the girls together. Wrath draws the line at them taking pictures of just the two of us. The girls want to walk along the top of the length of the wall, even though technically we could get booted out of the park for it. Every seven feet there’s a sign stating no one is to step on or over the stone barrier. I hold Hope’s hand as she tightrope walks along the wall. When we reach the end, the girls prance up to the observation deck to look through the viewfinders the park has installed. For a dollar you get enough time to take a quick sweep of the tri-county view. Wrath and I fish out quarters and hand them over. We take a few steps back. Even though he’s staring at the girls’ asses, something is bothering him. “What?” I ask. He keeps his voice low so we won’t be overheard. “We came in the back way. Down at Green Rocks Pavilion there is a horde of Devil’s Demons having a barbeque.” That makes no sense. The closest Demon chapter is about four hours from here. Fletcher Park is technically neutral ground. Since we are the dominant MC in this area, normally they would check in with us, even if just to say “hey.” We have friendly history with the Demons and maintain a decent relationship. It’s a respect thing. “Are you sure? Was it the Kodack chapter?” “Probably. It was just me and Trin. I didn’t exactly stop and play twenty

questions.” Shit, yeah. That could have been dangerous. We have no beef with the Demons, but no reason to take a stupid risk either. “How many?” “Maybe twenty?” “Just patch-holders, or did it look like a family event?” “Family too.” I relax a little. If they’re not here to do business, then I’m not going to worry about it. “Who knows, maybe they just needed a place to crash.” “Yeah, but they would need a permit to close down that whole area.” “Call Z and tell him to start making some quiet inquiries. Let’s get the girls and go.” Realistically, I doubt this is much of a problem. Like I said, they didn’t have to check in with us. It would have been nice since Fletcher Park bumps right up against our territory. It’s probably nothing, or it could be a big fucking deal. The president before me would have gone to war over another club stepping foot near our territory without clearing it ahead of time. I prefer a more diplomatic approach that did not end with my brothers injured, dead, or in prison. Call me crazy. With my VP working his magic, spending the day with Hope doing something normal seems like a good idea. Wrath and Trinity took off for who knows where. Hope and I go to the movies for the first time together. By the time the movie is over, Z has sent me a text that everything is fine. Demons were in the area attending the wedding of a non-patched family member. Z also managed to set up a meeting to discuss a new distribution line through Demon territory while he was at it. Diplomacy in action, folks.

CHAPTER FIVE

B ecause there can never be a peaceful moment, as soon as Hope and I return to

the clubhouse that evening, I know something is off. Wrath and Trinity are sitting outside talking. He jumps up and strides over as soon as he sees us, Trinity following close behind. “Inga’s back,” he announces as soon as I shut my bike down. “What? Who the fuck brought her back here?” “Uh, I think Dex has it bad for her.” He scratches his head and rolls his eyes skyward. ”Or he did.” Shouts can be heard from inside, and Trinny scrunches up her face. Now I’m wishing I had stuck around to talk to Dex this morning. “What’s going on?” Wrath slides his gaze to Hope and back to me. “She wanted to play choo-choo.” “What are you, five?” I snap. He’s chosen the stupidest time to finally watch his mouth around Hope. She’s not going to have any idea what we’re talking about anyway. Nor do I want her to. I point at the house. “Who’s in there?” “Everyone except you, me, Bricks, and maybe Z.” Z chooses that exact moment to step outside. Flushed and sweaty, he shakes his head. “Dude, your girl, Ing, is playing a serious game of Chinese Fingercuffs.” “She’s not my girl,” I grind out. “I think she’s trying to get you jealous,” Trinity offers. “Yeah, that’s not the way to win a guy back,” Wrath says with a chuckle. Hope pulls on my sleeve. “So, your ex-slampiece is in there taking it in every hole from your ‘brothers’? Is that what I’m getting out of this conversation?” I choke at her description. I’ve never heard that term before, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. It’s on odd thing to come out of Hope’s mouth, and I’m reminded how she can come with some interesting phrases when she’s feeling territorial. Wrath and Z double over laughing. Hope is not amused. She looks disgusted. I lift a shoulder. “No one made her.” Now she’s really steamed. “What, is she hoping you’ll go get in line?”

Wrath is practically pissing his pants with laughter. “Probably,” he gasps. Dick. “She must have run home and watched one too many Law and Order episodes. They don’t make girls pull a train to hang here,” Trinity explains to Hope. “What a relief,” Hope snaps. Z and Wrath straighten up at her tone. Time to diffuse this mess. Settling a hand on Hope’s shoulder, I address the guys. “We’re going upstairs.” Wrath snakes an arm around Trinny’s waist. Z glances at them and raises an eyebrow. “Trin and I were going for a walk.” “I’ll take care of it,” Z says. “I don’t care who does what. Make sure things don’t get too out of hand, and make sure she gets home in one piece. Make it clear she’s not welcome back. Wipe her GPS if you have to. That bitch can’t find her own ass without it.” Next to me, Hope lets out a disgusted snort, probably because I referred to Inga as a bitch, and I find her annoyance unreasonably ironic. “Oh, some of the guys are filming it,” Z adds as an afterthought. Fucking hell. “End that now. She’ll lose her contract if that shit gets out. What the fuck is she thinking?” Z looks at Hope, then back to me. “Uh, you might want to be the one to take care of that.” “Are you fucking serious? What the fuck are you wearing this for then?” I jab a finger at his VP patch. “I’m just saying it will be better coming from you.” Motherfucker. As we go inside, I see at least not all of my officers are degenerate fucktards. Murphy and Teller are relaxing on the couch, chatting with Swan who looks completely freaked out. I turn and put my hands on Hope’s shoulders. “Please stay out here.” “Trust me, I don’t need to see that.” I smile, and she shoos me away. “Go do your President thing. I’ll be right there.” She points to the couch. Love. This. Woman. Thank fuck I finally told her. I take Wrath to the side. “Stay here with Hope and Trinny. Do not under any circumstances let the girls take a step in that hallway.” “Yeah, sure.” He lowers his voice. “Why, you gonna slip in a quick one?” My hand connects hard with the back of his head before he finishes the last word. “No, fuckface. Just do what I ask,” I snap. “Come on, chickenshit,” I yell to Z, and he follows. “Not cool.” “Fuck you.” He shuts up after that, finally absorbing the fact that I am not finding this

situation as funny as he is. In the last twenty-two years, I’ve seen just about everything. But the scene in the champagne room even disgusts me. Two more club girls whose names I’ve not bothered to learn are entertaining the guys not filling Inga. Fuck, even Sparky pried himself away from his plants to partake in the activities. Someone brought a table from the dining room in. Guess we’ll be having a bonfire later, cause I sure as fuck am never eating off it again. A stab of guilt and a prick of pity hit me. If Inga is doing this for my attention, I just don’t get it. Since I deliberately avoided the weekends she worked at Crystal Ball, I hadn’t seen her for over a year. Did she see some sort of future for us and then lose her mind when she realized I was with Hope? I shake it off, focusing on what needs to be done. Looking around the room, I spot three cell phone cameras out and operating. A flip of the light switch halts the party. “Listen up, assholes, stop any filming right this fucking second, and everyone in the room hand your cell phones to Z. I count six fuckers in this room and three fuckees. In the next five seconds, Z better be holding nine phones. You can pick them up later.” Groans, mumbling, bitching, and cursing follow the little math problem I just tossed out, but people are zipping up flies and handing over phones. Z gives me a disgusted look as he pockets all the hardware. Wait ‘til I tell him he has to go through each one and make sure any videos from tonight are deleted. I spot Dex in a corner looking pretty miserable as I approach. “I hear this is your doing?” “Not this situation, prez.” “You know what’s going on with her?” “No idea. Thought she was into me, but then things got out of hand.” “Rocky!” Inga runs over to me without a stitch of clothing or an ounce of shame. She is, however, covered in sweat, cum, and smeared makeup. I shake off the hand she places on my shoulder. “Did you finally dump that prude and come to join the fun?” “Inga, this in no way looks like fun to me.” Her face falls. She does that pouty thing I used to find cute even though I knew it was fake as fuck. Now, it just looks cheap and sad. Keeping my distance and my eyes focused on her face, I ask her, “What the fuck are you trying to prove?” She shrugs her bony shoulders. Searching her face, I notice her eyes are glassy, her pupils tiny pinpoints. “Are you high?” “What do you care?” “We don’t allow drugs up here.” I don’t consider weed a “drug,” so this isn’t a lie as far as I’m concerned. She snorts. “We don’t allow hard drugs,” I clarify.

She ignores me and leans over to see Dex. “Hey, where did you go, baby?” “Just sittin’ here, Ing.” “Did you know some of the guys were filming this shit show, Inga? What about your contract?” I don’t know why I give a fuck, but I don’t want her to lose her income over something that happened in my club. “Huh?” Yeah, I’m done with this shit. “Dex. She’s your responsibility. Get her dressed. Get her out of my clubhouse. Take her to your house, wherever she’s staying, or a motel, but she is not allowed back here. Got it?” Inga lets a fist fly at my face. “Fuck you, Rochlan North! You’re not fucking God,” she screams at me. I catch her wild fist and hold it tight enough to make an impression on her drugaddled brain. “I am here.”

Although entertaining, the Inga incident depressed the hell out of me. Dex and Z carried her kicking and screaming outside, where she was tossed into the club’s van and driven home by a prospect. Lovely. Rock hasn’t returned yet. Trinity seems embarrassed or uneasy, and it bothers me because I think that’s my doing. Disapproval must be rolling off me in waves, but I can’t stop it. She keeps telling me this sort of stuff “almost never” happens here. It’s that “almost” part that bugs me. Trinity, Teller, and Murphy are laughing and joking around when Rock comes storming down the hall. He throws himself on the couch next to me and scrubs his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ, that was disgusting.” “Now you know why we were outside, prez,” Wrath says, giving Trinity a pointed look. She straightens up and away from Teller. The front door slams open, and a girl who can’t be more than sixteen storms in. Good grief, if this is another “club girl,” I’m heading home. “Marcel!” she howls. Everyone around me breaks into laughter. Well, except Teller. He’s livid. He rockets off the couch and grabs the girl by her shoulders. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Oh, hell, no. There’s no way this girl is legal. “Grams is driving me nuts! It’s barely nine o’clock, and she expects me to be in bed on a Saturday night. What. The. Fuck,” she yells dramatically. Ah, this must be the little sister, Heidi. Teller leads her over with an arm around her shoulder. She brightens when she sees Rock. “Hi, Uncle Rock,” she says. “Hey, Heidi-girl. How’d you find your way up here?” She rolls her eyes. “I’m sixteen, not stupid.” Rock tilts his head, waiting for her to continue. She lets out a dramatic sigh. “My boyfriend, Axel, brought me. He wants to prospect for you guys. He’s eighteen. I thought you could talk to him,” she adds with a hopeful lilt to her voice. At the word “boyfriend,” Murphy’s head snaps up. He shoots an angry glare at Teller, who shrugs his shoulders. “Hey, Heidi-bug,” Murphy calls. “Don’t call me bug, Blake,” she snaps back. Trying to regain control over the situation, Rock snaps his fingers in front of Heidi. “Heidi, we don’t allow prospects up here for the first year.” “Oh.” She finally takes in her surroundings. Noticing Rock’s hand on my knee, she locks her gaze on me. “Who are you?” “Heidi, this is my girlfriend, Hope.” “Oh, wow. That’s so cool. Uncle Rock’s never had a girlfriend before.” I’m kind of charmed by this little hellraiser. “Hi, Heidi. Teller told me all about you last night.” Her angry gaze bores into her brother. Whoops. “No, honey, all nice things. He was bragging about how smart you are and that you’re full of moxie, which I see is totally true.” “What the fuck is that?” Teller elbows her in the ribs. “Uh, sorry,” she apologizes. I smile. “It’s someone spunky. You know, full of energy and courage.” “Oh, I like that. That’s a way better road name than bug,” she spits at Murphy. “Love you too, bugaboo,” he responds with a grin. Z comes out of the office looking a little green. He brightens when he spots, Heidi. “Hey, Bug.” “Goddammit,” she grumbles under her breath. Rock motions his VP over. “Hey, do me a favor.” “Gee, prez. I barely finished the last disgusting favor you asked me to do,” he says with a healthy dose of irritation. Rock levels a questioning stare at him, and Z drops the attitude. “What do you need?” “Heidi brought her boyfriend up. He’s interested in becoming a prospect.” “What’s his name?”

“Axel,” Heidi says while bouncing up and down on her toes. “At least he won’t need a road name,” Z jokes. One corner of Rock’s mouth lifts in a wry smile. “Will you go have a chat with him? Make sure he’s not a little punk?” “He’s not, Uncle Rock, I swear,” Heidi pleads. She turns and follows Z out. Teller trots behind her, looking up at the ceiling and muttering. “She’s fun,” I joke. “Well, at least in two more years she’ll be Murphy’s problem,” Wrath says with a snort. “Fuck that, man. I’m just like another big brother to her,” Murphy protests. Rock leans back with a lazy grin. “Please—she’s been trying to take that ride since she was twelve.” “Nah. She’s like the kid sister I never wanted.” Frankly, I’m a little disgusted at the way they’re discussing this girl. “She’s a kid,” I say. “Yeah, which is why when she’s eighteen, Murphy will sack up and put them both out of each other’s misery,” Wrath challenges. I sit up. “Are you serious? Murphy has to be what, ten years older than her?” “Eight,” Murphy says quietly. “Sorry.” He flashes a grin at me and strokes his chin. “It’s the beard.” “Hope, I think you’re misunderstanding,” Trinity offers. “What am I missing?” Trinity looks at the guys. “They’re not saying she has to be with Murphy. Or like she’s promised to him or anything like that. Is that what you’re thinking?” “Well, yeah.” I flick my gaze at Wrath, and he rolls his eyes at me. “She’s had a crush on him forever. You must have had a crush on an older guy when you were a kid, right?” she asks. I nod even though Rock is watching me with narrowed eyes. She pats Murphy’s knee, which makes Wrath narrow his eyes. “Although Murph will deny it, he’s sweet on her too. But he won’t do anything about it while she’s underage.” “The age of consent is actually seventeen in New York,” I say absently. Wrath snorts in disgust. Trinity shakes her head like I’m dense. “What if she’s still with Axel?” I ask. Murphy shrugs. “They’re more worked up about this than I am. You met her, right? She’s a pain in the ass. Not interested.” Wrath reaches over and smacks Murphy on the back of the head. “Keep telling yourself that, buddy.” Shaking my head from this bizarre conversation, I excuse myself to run to the bathroom. With Inga’s exit, things seem to have calmed down. There’s music coming out of the champagne room, but I don’t have to go past it to get to where I

want, so I ignore it. When I return, tense, angry voices hit me as I’m about to turn the corner. I pause to listen, praying no one will come up behind me. “You can’t have your ol’ lady questioning the club like that, brother.” It’s Wrath. What the fuck is his problem with me now? “Simmer down, asshole.” That’s Rock, and I smile at his no-bullshit tone. “It’s your fucking fault. Why you always gotta hassle me about Heidi?” Murphy grumbles loud enough for me to catch. “Wyatt, look at it this way. Heidi is club family. After meeting her for five seconds, Hope was ready to stand up to your scary ass in defense of her. Sounds like perfect ol’ lady material to me.” Why, thank you, Trinity. “Thanks, Trin,” Rock says, echoing my thoughts. Wrath must be considering their words. I wait, holding my breath. I know how close he and Rock are. I shouldn’t give a shit about his “seal of approval” but I do. “I guess. She kept her cool when Cookie got up in her face last night too. And with Inga this morning. I almost pissed myself.” “You should probably talk—” I choose that moment to walk back into the room, and everyone falls silent for a second. Rock stands up. “I’ve had enough drama for one night. Wrath, tell Z I’ll talk to him about Axel in the morning. Someone make sure Heidi gets home. She can’t stay here.” Murphy stands and squeezes my shoulder on his way out. “Night, Hope.” Surprised, I turn my head, watching him walk out the door. At least someone here likes me.

CHAPTER SIX

E ven though she’s pissed about it, Hope agreed to take Teller’s case. She’s been

spending more time at Adam’s office, which annoys me less than it used to. I offered to set her up in an office near Crystal Ball, but I don’t think she took me seriously, because she laughed in my face. All this means is that I end up riding downtown more often to take her out to lunch or bring her dinner when she’s working late. Lately, I sense she has a bit of the guilts for getting involved in Teller’s family drama. With that in mind, I drop by to take her to a late lunch, because I doubt she’s bothered to eat yet. The only person I find in the office is Adam. “Where’s my girl?” Adam’s entire body jerks. “God dammit. Can you make some noise so I know you’re here? You scared the shit out of me.” “Christ, I’m not exactly fucking tiny. Maybe you should get your ears checked.” His lips quirk into a brief grin before he ducks his head back down to his computer screen. “She’s out. Said she had a client interview.” “Where?” One shrug later, Hope’s buddy is dangerously close to an ass-kicking. I’ve never liked this idea of her going to her clients’ houses. Seems awfully unsafe to me. I snap my fingers in front of Adam. “Where. Is. She?” “Dude, chill. I’ll pull up her calendar.” Adam gets busy tapping his way into her calendar. “We have access to each other’s stuff just in case,” he tells me as I wait. I guess he’s worried I’ll think it’s weird. But it makes sense, and right now, I’m thankful for it. He points at the screen. “Here. She’s drafting a will and is doing the client intake.” I fight the urge to unhinge his jaw with my fist. “I don’t care what she’s doing. Where is she doing it?” “749 Mason Ave,” he answers with a frown. Fuck me. That’s a bad area of Empire. “Jesus. You let her go down there alone?” Adam looks at me as if I’ve got a few screws loose. “Uh, she’s an independent girl, Rock. One does not tell Hope what to do if one wants to live to see the next

day.” We’ll see about that. On my way out, I send her a quick text. Dropped by to take you to lunch. Where you at? I didn’t plan to wait for a response. Just revved up my bike and pointed it toward Mason Street. Mason is one of those narrow, one-way streets downtown Empire has in abundance. I find Hope’s car easily enough. But no sign of her. I park right next to her car, so there’s no way she can leave without me knowing about it. I scan the street and spot 749 a few doors down from the closed-down shell of the old bar we used to hang out at before we moved the MC out into the wilderness. Still no sign of Hope. Checking my phone, I see she hasn’t responded. A boulder of worry settles in my gut as I stride over to 749 and push open the door. And run smack into a very frustrated Hope. Thank fuck. “Rock! What on earth are you doing here?”

I’m beyond pissed that I apparently drove down here for nothing. Mrs. Kohn didn’t answer her door. The neighborhood is a lot sketchier than I thought it would be, so my nerves are jangling. Then, bam! There’s Rock, looking almost as pissed as I feel. On closer inspection, his pulse is pounding in his neck, body tense, eyes narrowed. Definitely furious and not in a mood to joke around. He takes me by the elbow and leads me to my car. “What are you doing down here by yourself?” A chill settles over me, and a sliver of resentment works into my chest. I’m thirty-fucking-three years old. A professional. I don’t need to ask his permission before doing my damn job. “Listen, I’ve been doing things on my own for a long damn time, Rock. I’ve done more client interviews than—” “You’re not alone anymore. You need to interview someone, you tell me and I go with you.” Is he nuts? “That’s ridiculous! You have your own things to worry about—” “I worry about you.” “I don’t need to be protected like some little kid.”

“I’m well aware you’re not a kid, Hope. Doesn’t mean I want you wandering around the ghetto by yourself.” For a long stretch, we stare at each other in some sort of standoff. Rock is wound tight. Chest heaving, eyes flashing. Why am I questioning him? Oh, right— independence. “Rock, I’m an independent person. I’m not sure how to handle—” His expression softens, even as he interrupts me. “Ask me for help, Hope. That’s all. Don’t put yourself in danger.” “How am I in danger?” He cocks his head, and I get the feeling he’s thinking something rather unkind. “Did you meet your client?” “No. No one was home.” “Did it ever occur to you that it could have been a setup? To rob you? Or worse?” Well, no, that never occurred to me. Stubbornly, I refuse to answer his question. He nods in his maddeningly knowing way that makes me want to kick him. Instead, I smooth my hands over the bulging biceps of the big, bad, glowering biker in front of me. “Okay. But can you accept that I’m a grown woman who can handle things on her own?” He struggles. I can tell he wants to say no. I’m touched that he manages to rein it in. He nods and traces a finger over my cheek. “I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you, baby.” That melts me, and suddenly I’m acutely aware of how close our bodies are. How much closer I’d like our bodies to be. The heat of his skin radiates through his clothes into me. Adrenaline and emotion swirl between us, lighting a spark of desire. His hand drops to my waist, and he tugs me closer. I lean up to kiss his cheek, inhaling his crisp, raw scent. As I pull back, he turns and catches my lips in a rough kiss. Pressing me against my car door, his hands shackle my wrists against my sides as he takes the kiss even deeper. He swallows every soft moan that leaves my lips. The blast of a car horn stops us from doing the dirty on the hood of my car. Rock growls against my lips before pulling away. He scowls at the driver, then turns back to me. “We done here?” My voice comes out as shaky as the rest of me feels. “Yes.” “Good. Follow me to your office. I want to take you out to lunch.” “Okay.” When we pull into the office parking lot, my stomach clenches. For once, I’m not sure what I want to say. Part of me is still pissed off about his bossy caveman act. The other is floored and not sure how to handle the depth of Rock’s emotion for me. I’m proud of my independence, but I can’t deny how it feels to have someone worry about me. I’ll never admit it, but his concern was valid. It was weird that the woman wasn’t

home. Replaying our conversation in my head makes me realize something about the situation had been off from the beginning. What if Rock hadn’t shown up and someone else with less than honorable intentions had? Would I have warded them off with my legal pad? Frightened them with the threat of a thousand paper cuts? Wary of Rock’s stiff posture, I don’t bother with small talk. I grab the helmet he hands me and get on the bike. He takes us to a quiet Chinese restaurant we’ve both become fond of, and we grab a table in the back. As we settle next to each other in the curved booth, a thought that reignites my irritation enters my mind. “You know, it’s kind of unfair for you to be so hard on me, when you’re always out doing who knows what for the club without telling me.” Rock’s stiff jaw tells me maybe it would have been wise to keep that thought to myself. “That so?” he asks low and deadly. I straighten up and pin him with a stare. “Yes.” The way he stares right back with no hint of the usual amusement on his face tells me how serious his next words will be. “Well, Baby Doll, I’m a rather big guy who knows how to handle himself, and I’m rarely unarmed. Not a tiny woman with nothing but her briefcase. Besides, on club business I’m usually not alone. I have Wrath or Z for backup. Would you like me to assign one of the prospects to be with you at all times? Because I’ll be happy to arrange that.” See, I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. “Very funny.” “Do I look like I’m joking?” “I’m not tiny.” Finally a glimmer of a smile at the corners of his mouth. “You are compared to me.” I sigh. “This is hard for me, Rock. I told you how my father died when I was a teenager?” His face relaxes a little more, and he squeezes my hand under the table. “Yeah.” “Well, my mother kind of fell apart after that. She never held a steady job to begin with, so finding work was next to impossible. We lost our house, then had to move from apartment to apartment. I’ve been basically taking care of myself since I was thirteen. So as much as I appreciate you wanting to look after me, it’s hard for me to accept.” “I need to, Hope.” He takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger and forces me to meet his gaze. “Understand where I’m coming from. A real man looks after his woman.” Oh, damn. The look in his eyes goes distant. “I get it. My father drowned himself in booze and whoring after my mother died. Before that, though, she was the center of his world. I always told myself when I found the right woman, I’d be the kind of man he’d been before she died. Not what he turned into later.” “Okay,” I whisper. Because honestly, what else can I say to that?

“Thank you, Baby Doll. I’ll try not to overdo it.” I guess that’s as much of a concession as I’m going to get. Deep down, a tiny voice says maybe, just maybe, it’s nice to be looked after.

Fuck me, but Hope makes it hard to take care of her. I love how spirited she is, but it also scares the shit out of me. I can’t deny she’s clever and smart. Book smart, which I admire. Street smart, not so much. That’s fine—I have enough street smarts for both of us. If she’ll let me take care of her. My knuckles glide over the warm, soft skin of her cheek. “Do you have to go back to the office?” At the touch of my hand, her eyes close. Her eyelids flutter open slowly as she thinks about a response to my question. I love how deeply I can affect her with only a touch. “No.” “Good.” Our waitress drops off soup for Hope. Watching her sexy fucking lips purse to blow on her spoon gets me in an uncomfortable state fast. “So, uh, is work picking up at all?” I ask, trying to distract myself. She shakes her head. “No, that’s why I was eager for this appointment today.” “Shit. Sorry, babe. It will happen.” She shrugs. “I’m not worried about it right now.” “Things going okay with Heidi’s case?” She arches an eyebrow at me. “You know I can’t talk about that with you.” Yup. My girl takes her shit seriously. Can’t pry any information out of her. She’s interrupted by buzzing from her purse and pulls out her cell phone. I lean back against the booth and finish my soda, signaling the waitress for another. Hope’s fingers fly over her phone. “Sophie,” she mutters. Her phone buzzes again. After reading the text, Hope tilts her head to look at me. “What?” “Um, Sophie wants to know if we’re interested in going to Jonny’s show with her this weekend?” Hope seems so timid as she’s asking me this, I feel like an asshole. Why is she afraid to ask me to hang with her friends? “Yeah, of course, doll.” Her lips roll into a quick grin and she makes a little “squee” noise that I find fucking adorable. She taps out a reply to Sophie, then shoves her phone back in her

purse. “Do you mind if we pick her up?” “Of course not.” I want to question her more about why she’s so hesitant, but our food arrives. She’s silent while she arranges everything the way she wants, her pickiness as cute as ever. “Did Teller’s grandmother ever get a lawyer?” Hope glances up. “Yeah, he’s a dick too. We have a trial coming up in two months. I’m hoping we can work something out before then.” “Fuck—by the time the court gets around to sorting it out, she’ll be fucking eighteen and it won’t matter anyway.” Hope rolls her eyes. “Tell me about it.” She goes still for a minute. “Shoot. I forgot, I do need to go back to the office and make some phone calls.” My mouth is full, so I make a disappointed humming noise. “Sorry, I lose all train of thought when your hands are on me,” she says. I think she meant it in a teasing way, but it comes out so serious I’m hard as steel before she finishes speaking. “Don’t ever apologize for that, baby,” I manage to get out.

Lunch with Rock left me happy, but unsettled. At some point, I’m going to need to reflect on what’s happening to me, because I don’t seem to care about much these days except spending every second with my man. It’s dangerous because that is not the type of woman I always aspired to be. Shaking my head, I sit down behind my desk and flip through Teller’s file. I need to call the attorney who has been assigned to represent Heidi in the custody action. I want to get a read on where she’s going to land with her recommendation to the court. Ethically, she is supposed to argue whatever her client wants her to argue— even if she disagrees with it. I know for a fact Heidi desperately wants her brother to win this fight, so I’m curious to find out what Heidi’s attorney plans to argue. First, though, I try to call my no-show client from this morning. I get a prerecorded “the number you have reached has been disconnected…” and hang up. I stare at Teller’s file a little longer, then pull out a legal pad and write down what I want to say to Miss Clark. It’s a nervous habit I picked up in law school. I get so flustered speaking on the phone with people, I’m always afraid I’ll forget what I want to say. Once I have it all mapped out, I can’t delay any longer, so I dial the other

attorney—half hoping I’ll just get her voicemail so I can deal with this another day. But she answers the phone herself. After the introductions, we get down to business. “Look, Ms. Kendall, I appreciate that you’re close to the family—” Huh? “What do you mean?” “Heidi speaks very highly of you.” “Oh, that’s nice to hear. She’s a good kid.” She blows out a breath, and I brace myself for what’s about to come. “I have my reservations about her brother being able to take care of her properly. But on the other hand, I don’t think her grandmother is suitable either.” “I hope you’re not planning to suggest placement for her.” “No, God, no. Not when she has two relatives who want her. She is a good kid. With the way things are at home, she could easily be out skipping school and doing God only knows what, but she never misses a day and her grades are pretty solid given the turmoil in her life.” I like this attorney. She’s clearly done her homework, and she seems to care about Heidi. Considering the pool of lazy attorneys out there that could have been assigned to Heidi, it seems she won the lawyer jackpot. I still want to know what her reservations about my client are, though. “How can I convince you to give my guy a solid recommendation?” She snorts into the phone. “You know I have to argue in favor of the brother, since that’s what she wants. Doesn’t matter what I think. But I’d feel better about it if he had a home of his own and a stable job.” Good point. She really has been thorough. This is something Teller and I have talked about. Repeatedly. He lives at the clubhouse full time. It’s about an hour away from Heidi’s school and most certainly not the appropriate environment for her. He promised me he was looking into finding an apartment nearby. I also know Rock has been working to get him on the books at one of the Lost Kings legitimate, non-stripper businesses. “Look, attorney-to-attorney, he is employed full-time, it’s just under the table. He’s working on getting that straightened out. He’s also looking for an apartment near Heidi’s school for the two of them. He wants to keep her close to her friends, school, and their grandmother.” “Good. Okay. I feel a lot better about the situation then.” The sound of the front door opening spooks me out of the conversation. Dammit. I forgot to lock the door after Adam left. The basement office has always felt very isolated to me, even though there is a psychiatrist’s office right upstairs. When I’m here alone, I almost always keep the front door locked. It’s weird that whoever entered hasn’t said anything yet. I’m so focused on what’s going in the waiting area that I miss the last thing Charlotte said. “Hope? Are you there?”

“Sorry, Charlotte, what was that?” “I just said we have a pre-trial coming up, I’m hoping we can work things out with Tom, and the grandmother isn’t going to dig her heels in. I’m not in the mood for a trial.” That startles a laugh out of me. “Yeah, neither am I. Tom’s private pay though, so he might want to ride it all the way through.” She makes a sound between a snort and a chuckle. A snortle. “Yeah.” I hear someone still walking around in the outer office. “Hey, Charlotte, I need to go, but we’ll talk soon, okay?” “Sure.” We say our goodbyes, and I disconnect. Clutching my cell phone in my hand, I make my way out to the waiting area. There’s a tall, skinny, shifty-eyed stranger shuffling around. He keeps staring into Adam’s darkened office as if my friend might magically appear. “Can I help you?” He jumps about three feet in the air before aiming what I can only describe as crazy eyes on me. “Where’s Mr. Braydon?” “He’s out. Can I help you?” “Yeah, he’s in charge of my mother’s estate, and I need to speak to him.” “Do you have an appointment?” “Well, no. But I need to talk to him.” This guy has shoved my stranger-danger radar into red alert. Especially since I’m trapped down here with him by myself. “Let me check his calendar.” He follows me into Adam’s office, which makes me even more nervous. Dammit. Why hadn’t I asked Rock to come back to the office with me? He’d scare this guy away in two seconds flat. Calling up Adam’s calendar takes a few seconds. While I wait, I take a few breaths to calm myself. I have to remind myself to be polite to Adam’s client, when I really want to tell him to get the fuck out and come back later. “What’s your name? I’ll text Adam and see when he’s coming back.” “David Greybell.” I tap out a quick text to Adam, not really expecting a reply since I know he’s in court. But at least if I go missing, the police will have an idea of who to question first. I’m seriously pissed at myself for being so scared. Irrationally, I blame Rock. He got me so flustered after my missed appointment this morning—insinuating that something bad could have happened to me—that I’m seeing threats everywhere. Finally I get into Adam’s calendar and discover he’s in Surrogate’s Court. Great. He could be there for twenty minutes or two hours—there’s no way to tell. “He hasn’t written back yet, so he’s probably in court. It looks like he has some time available tomorrow morning. Do you want me to schedule you in?” “Yes, please.”

The reason I suggested that time is because I won’t be here. Let Adam deal with his creepy client by himself. I tap in some information and log off. “Okay, I’ll let him know. Thanks.” “Are you an attorney? Maybe you can help me instead?” “No, that’s not my area, and my boyfriend is picking me up any minute.” He looks dejected, and I squelch the impulse to feel bad about brushing him off. After Mr. Greybell leaves, I lock the door. My hands are shaking. I stare at my cell phone and contemplate calling Rock. After turning it over in my head, I dismiss the idea. He’ll just use it as an excuse to be even more hyper-protective. The last thing I need is for him to start sending one of his prospects to work with me. Hearing the back door slam makes me almost jump out of my skin, even though logically I know it has to be Adam. I stalk down the hall to greet him. “You just missed your oddball client.” He stops and throws a sarcastic glance at me. “Greybell?” “Yup.” He waves a hand in the air. “He’s a little off, but he’s harmless.” “Yeah, well, he made me nervous. I’m so pissed I forgot to lock the front door.” “You can’t keep that door locked during business hours. What if a client stops by?” We’ve had this discussion before, and I kind of want to clock Adam for being so damn dense. “Uh, when I’m alone down here by myself, I damn well will keep the door locked. Clients will just have to ring the doorbell.” He rolls his eyes at me as if to say “you’re such a girl.” “Geez, Hope, there’s an office right upstairs.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I give him a hard stare. “I don’t care. You’re a guy. You don’t get it.” His face softens. “You’re right. Better to be safe than sorry.” My agitation disappears, and we turn to discussing our current cases. Since I only have the one, my end of the conversation is short. I am able to offer him some advice on a few of his cases, which helps me feel a little less useless. When we’re done with the work talk, Adam’s face transforms into a mischievous grin. “Did that big, scary man of yours find you before? He came here all wound up earlier.” “Yeah, he did.” “He’s something, Hope. You sure know how to pick ‘em.” I know Adam means this as a compliment, and my lips quirk into a smile. “How about you? When do I get to meet this mystery man you’ve been seeing?” He gives me a secret smile. “Soon. I’m thinking of asking him to go to that party of Judge Oak’s.” “So, I have to wait until then to meet him? Is he a lawyer?” Another sly grin. “Sort of.” “What the hell does that mean? Is he out?” A flash of annoyance crosses his face. “Yes, Hope. Unlike some people we know,

I don’t deal with guys hiding in the closet.” He’s referring to Ross, and I’m thankful I never suggested that because they’re both gay lawyers they’d make a perfect couple. Lilly once made that mistake, and Adam still hasn’t forgiven her for it. “Don’t start.” He nods. “Are you going to invite your big, scary biker?” I snort. Then full-out belly laugh. Rock at a political fundraiser? As if that would ever happen. “Uh, no. I don’t think he would set foot inside an event like that.” In fact, I know he won’t—because he told me so—which is why I don’t even plan to mention it. What’s the point? “You have to go, Hope. Mara will kill you if you don’t.” “Yeah, I am capable of going to things alone, you know.” “I remember.” He’s referring to Clay. He didn’t do lawyer functions either. I sure know how to pick them.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Thanks so much for picking me up, guys,” Sophie says in a breathless rush as she

slides into the backseat of Rock’s SUV. “No problem, babe,” Rock answers while reversing out of the driveway. “Thanks for inviting us.” “I’m so happy to have the extra company. I love seeing Jonny’s shows, but I always feel weird standing around backstage by myself.” Sophie squeezes my shoulder. “It’s good to have my partner in crime back.” I chuckle at that. Sophie and I had a lot of fun times in law school. Since I was with Clay, Lilly was her partner in picking up rocker guys, but I appreciate the sentiment. Sophie lets out this frustrated growling noise. “I hate all the fucking groupies who hang out, trying to grope Jonny when he gets off stage. You can help me kick some skank groupie ass.” Rock chuckles a little uncomfortably. With a smirk, I turn and face Sophie. “No problem. I’ve got tons of experience now from dealing with Rock’s own personal muffler bunny fan club.” Rock makes a choking sound, and Sophie falls back against the seat in a fit of giggles. “Buttercup, you gotta let me up there one of these days. I’ll be happy to take care of those bitches for you.” She flashes a glance at Rock. “You girls done?” he asks with a bemused smile. Sophie and I burst into another round of giggles while Rock shakes his head. We’re still laughing and carrying on by the time we get to the club. It holds about three thousand people and appears to be sold out tonight. The line down the sidewalk to get in seems miles long. We are able to go right to the front window, give our names, and go right in. The bouncer directs us to the back. We walk through the brightly lit but mostly empty club. Sophie is bouncing up and down with excitement. It’s been a few weeks since she and Jonny saw each other, and I fully expect them to disappear into some dark corner when we find him. Rock and Jonny greet each other like they’re long lost brothers, and I really need to find out what the story is there. Jonny isn’t talking much because he’s preserving his voice for the demanding style of screaming vocals he uses on stage.

Sophie brought him a particular type of cough drop, and he thanks her by kissing her long and deep in front of everyone. Like a king holding court, Rock is busy chatting with the other band members. I’m always amazed at how comfortable he is in any situation. Maybe even a little jealous. After Jonny and Sophie finish their game of tonsil hockey, she rushes over to me. “Sorry.” I’m busy watching Rock and Jonny. Rock pulls a package out of his cut and hands it to Jonny, who lights up in a big grin. “What are they up to?” I ask Sophie. “No idea. Lots of people bring them shit for the free tix, you know?” Hmmm. We mostly stay in the back room during the first couple bands. Rock pulls me into his lap as the rest of the band lights up what Rock explains to me is a vaporizer. Jonny passes but asks them to save it for later. I arch a brow at Sophie, and she shrugs. She also passes on the weed, but I get the sense she’s only doing it so I won’t feel weird. When Rock also passes, one of the guys jokes with him about not sampling his own product. I go absolutely rigid in Rock’s lap, and his arms tighten around me. “I’m good, man,” he gets out through clenched teeth. Lilly joins us, distracting me from the question on the tip of my tongue. She sweeps me into a big hug. The guys in the band are excited to see her, so I assume she’s spent a lot of time hanging out with Sophie and Jonny. Rock chuckles when Z walks in the room next. Lilly is sitting on the drummer’s lap, and he’s dangerously close to motorboating her in front of the entire room. Z takes in the scene and sits down on the arm of the couch next to Rock and me without a word. “Hey, Z,” I greet. “‘Sup, Hope?” Jonny and Z greet each other with some sort of bro-hug, and I wonder when these two had a chance to meet. Lilly looks up, finally noticing Z, and scrambles out of the drummer’s lap. She whispers something in Sophie’s ear that makes Sophie tug me out of Rock’s lap. The three of us head out into the club and into the ladies’ room. “Wasn’t there a bathroom back there?” I ask because we’re stuck waiting in a line. “Trust me, it’s more disgusting than this one,” Sophie informs us with a shiver. “Why is Z here?” Lilly asks me. “I don’t know—” “Jonny put Rock, Hope, and plus two on the list,” Sophie answers, clearing up that mystery. Geez, I hope Wrath isn’t going to show up next. “Shit,” Lilly mumbles.

“What are you so freaked out for? I thought you and Z were just fucking around,” Sophie asks. “We are.” Lilly sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “Doesn’t mean I want to hang out with him and someone else I’m fucking around with,” she says with a nervous chuckle. I can’t stop the eye roll. I love Lilly, but she’s non-stop drama. By the time we make it out of the bathroom, the band is setting up. We reenter the green room where Jonny is busy running through his vocal exercises. Not wanting to make him nervous, I head back to Rock. “We’re probably going to watch the band from the side of the stage,” I inform him. “Okay. You’re staying back here, though, right? I don’t want you out in the crowd if they start moshing and shit.” I stop and give him a cool look. “Rock, I went to shows long before I knew you. I can handle myself just fine.” His eyebrow quirks at that. Z turns away, shaking with laughter. The girls and I head into the club. After the first song, Rock joins us side stage and slips his arms around my waist. I lean into him, and he bends down to kiss my neck. Sophie glances over and breaks into a wide grin. My body is vibrating from being so close to the stage. Having Rock at my back intensifies the sensation. The show is awesome, and I remember how much I used to enjoy going out with Sophie. Jonny turns into a beast on stage, and I hope he and Sophie manage to make things work. I don’t think she realizes it, but he’s exactly the kind of guy she’s been looking for since I met her. Hot rocker, who has a business with income on the side. Doesn’t throw his money away on drugs, and worships the ground she walks on. After the band finishes what they say is their last song, Jonny paces backstage waiting to go back out for their encore. Looking past Sophie, I realize Lilly has disappeared. Z and Rock are over by the entrance to the back room talking, so she’s not with Z. Just as I turn to ask Sophie a question, someone squeezes my ass. Unless Rock has developed some amazing super powers, I know it can’t be him, and whirl to confront the ass-grabber. Sophie also squeals. Ass-grabber has an accomplice. I recognize my perv as the singer of one of the earlier bands. “Get your hands off me,” I order through clenched teeth. “Come on, baby, you’re too hot to be bandwhoring for these old fucks,” he breathes in my face. Is it possible to get contact drunk? If so, then his whiskey breath would do the trick. Sophie pushes the other guy just as the music for the encore starts up. Suddenly both ass-grabbers are laid out on the floor. Rock has his hand around the throat of mine. “That’s my girl you touched, asshole,” he shout-growls into the kid’s ear.

Jonny has his knee on the chest of the guy who grabbed Sophie and is delivering an equally informative message. Z hustles us away. “You girls all right?” I shake him off. “We’re fine. We had it covered.” Z cocks his head at me. Security finally shows up and holds on to the two jerks, while Jonny runs out on stage to finish his set. Sophie and I crash into the green room together. Flopping on the couch side by side, we listen to the band wrap up their set. Rock’s still out there somewhere too. “Man we know how to live it up, buttercup,” Sophie giggles. “Sorry about that.” “What? Our men protecting us? Don’t be—” She’s interrupted by Jonny running into the room and scooping her up off the couch. They disappear into another back room that I assume will be off-limits for the rest of the night. Rock slams through the doors next and heads straight for me. Joining me on the couch, he slips his arm around my shoulders. “You okay?” “I was fine, Rock. I can take care of myself,” I grumble. Looking up, I find Z standing next to the couch. Rock leans over, touching his forehead to mine. “I see someone grabbin’ my girl’s ass, I’m gonna to do something about it. It’s who I am, Hope. You know this.” He’s right. I do know this about him. But still. “You can’t go around beating up everyone who looks at me funny.” He chuckles. “Oh yeah—why not?” I give him an exasperated eye roll. His expression turns serious. “Babe, that guy didn’t just look at you funny. He put his hands on you. That’s not okay. You’re my girl. There’s no fuckin’ way I’m gonna stand by and let that shit happen right in front of me.” I can tell he’s pissed that I didn’t fall at his feet and thank him for the intervention, because he gets up and walks outside to cool off. Z’s still standing there staring at me. I glare up at him. “You’re not going to give me some scary lecture, are you? I get enough of those from Wrath.” Z’s face beaks into a warm smile and he sits next to me. “Nah, Hope. You gotta understand, Rock loves how smart and independent you are—” “Geez, you could’ve fooled me, the way he’s always acting,” I scoff. “I won’t get into the other things he likes about you.” He gives me a dirty wink that makes me chuckle, then cocks his head at me. “How much has he told you about the club before he took over?” “Nothing, really.” Z flicks his gaze to where Rock disappeared to. “I can only give you a general outline, you understand?” I nod so he’ll continue. By some silent agreement, the two of us move closer

together. “We lost brothers we were close to because people in control of our club cared more about greed than the brotherhood we’re supposed to be about. Not a damn thing Rock could have done to change it. But Rock, he’s the type of guy who blames himself for everything bad that happens to the people he cares about.” Oh, wow. That gives me a lot of insight into why he’s so goddamn overbearing. I wish I’d been smart enough to piece this together sooner. “You? I ain’t never seen him act about a woman the way he does with you. Knew it the day he met you. Saw it all over his face. I don’t think he could stand it if something happened to you.” Heat crawls over my skin. Z has known Rock a long time. Curiosity makes me blurt out, “What was his exwife like?” Z snorts. “A straight-up useless bitch. Hot, don’t get me wrong.” My face must betray some form of jealousy, because Z smirks. “Babe, by the time he realized that wasn’t enough, he was already in too deep. But what they had wasn’t a marriage. It was an extended hookup. She was only interested in him gettin’ that president patch—didn’t give a shit about him. Caused him a lot of grief, then deserted him when he needed her most.” I let out a long sigh. “You love him,” Z continues. “We can all see it. Just try to understand he needs his woman to need him, ya know? He’s been taking care of the club and everyone under it for years. Keeping his family safe is what matters most to him. He just wants to protect you. It’s not a disrespect thing, honey.” “I know.” Z gets up and holds out his hand to pull me off the sinkhole of a couch. “Ya gotta let him defend his girl. Besides, when shit like that happens, he’s doing the world a favor. Guy goes around grabbing women he doesn’t know, deserves whatever he gets.” “True. I just…” I think of how to phrase what I want to say so I won’t offend Z. “I’m not like those girls that hang out at your club, who thrive on fights and drama. I don’t get off on seeing my man ‘take care of business,’ you know?” Z studies me carefully. “Hope, I’d never in a million years confuse you with a club whore, trust me. You’re all class, babe. And I hear what you’re saying. But I gotta ask—did you create the situation?” “No, of course not.” “Then you’re not stirring up trouble just to be a drama queen.” Shit. “Okay. I understand what you’re telling me.” He grins. “Glad I could help.” “At least you’re not mean.” He grins even bigger. “Baby, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” I shove his shoulder and he wraps an arm around me, giving me a quick hug. “The fuck, bro? I gotta lay you out too?” Rock growls.

I take a quick step between them, which makes both guys laugh. “Don’t you dare,” I warn. “He’s been trying to explain to me why you’re such a bossy caveman.” “That so?” Rock asks with an eyebrow lift. Z shrugs and takes a few steps back. Rock glances down at me. “So your husband used to let you come out to places like this with Sophie all the time?” Whoa. “Let me? Did you just say ‘let me’? Are you serious?” Rock’s mouth twitches, and I can tell he’s swallowing whatever he wants to say, and it’s not coming easily. “Didn’t he like heavy metal?” Rock asks with his mouth twisted as if he’d been sucking on a lemon. This is his version of being diplomatic. I’m shaking with laughter at how hard he’s trying to control his comments. And after what I’ve just learned, I understand where he’s coming from a lot better, so it’s easier to dial down my irritation. “Not so much,” I answer. Rock nods, and I stand up on tiptoes to brush a quick kiss over his lips. Heat flares in his eyes, and we stand there staring at each other. “Where’d Lilly run off to?” Z asks, snuffing out the fire between us. Facing Z, I shake my head. “No clue.” He whips out his cell phone with a look on his face that says he’s debating calling her. “You want me to text her?” I ask. “Naw, that’s okay.” I do it anyway because I feel like I owe Z. Where’d ya go? At the bar. Tipping my head up, I catch Z studying me. Rock has wandered over to talk to some of the guys from the band. “She’s at the bar out front.” The corners of his mouth curve up, and he taps my shoulder before he walks out. There’s a bit of a commotion at the door. Through the high, square windows, I can see Z in the hallway talking to someone. He finally walks away, and two girls push through the swinging doors. I recognize them from the MC. One of them is the wench who’s been giving me shit for a couple weeks now. Her name is Roxy or Foxy, something stupid like that. She a sly little bitch because she always manages to needle me when Rock’s not around. She somehow catches me when Trinity’s occupied too. Little digs about her relationship with Rock. She insinuates that when he’s up there without me she’s with him, which I know is bullshit. Me telling her to fuck off hasn’t done the trick yet. I think she is angling for a physical confrontation, but that’s just not me. The ugly bitch with her, Cherry, likes to inform me about Rock’s past preference for three-ways. They’re a charming little duo, even more annoying when joined by their third sidekick, Ginger, who thankfully I don’t spot with them tonight. Foxy is short and what I guess guys would refer to as “thick” with bleached-blonde hair,

wild tattoos, and piercings. Cherry is also short but skinny as a rail and has clowncolored red hair. Rock seems to have no one “type” when it comes to the women he fucks. One of the band guys calls out to Cherry. When she sees Rock, she squeals and is all over him. He politely pushes her away but keeps chatting with her, which pisses me off royally. Foxy spots me and struts over. Because she’s such a classy gal, the first thing out of her mouth is, “What the fuck are you doing here?” “My friend is dating Jonny Cage. They put us on the list.” Her eyes widen, and I wonder if she was planning to bag Jonny tonight. Inwardly I chuckle, because while I may not have the guts to kick her ass, Sophie most certainly does. She spins and heads back into the club. Bye, bitch. Rock finishes his conversation and heads my way. Cherry follows close behind until she spots me. “You ready to go, babe?” Rock asks with a big grin on his face. Yeah, I’m ready to go home and crawl into bed. Alone.

I really can’t take my girl anywhere. Christ. I figured she’d be safe backstage— mistake on my part. Seeing that greasy motherfucker groping her almost sent me over the edge. The little bastard is lucky he’s still alive. I might’ve felt bad for crushing the windpipe of the singer for one of Jonny’s support bands if Jonny hadn’t broken the guitarist’s thumbs. We make a good pair. We both got stubborn women to take care of, and neither of us has a problem getting our hands dirty. “You’d make a good King, Jonny.” I joke on our way back inside the club. He grins at me. “This rockstar thing doesn’t take off, I might take you up on that, man. Fucking bullshit that happening backstage to our girls. I should hire you for security, especially when we play shitholes like this that don’t even pretend to search people for weapons.” Yeah, the lack of security in this joint hadn’t escaped my notice. I can’t believe Hope and Sophie used to hang here a lot when they were in law school. Unfortunately my big mouth said exactly that when I saw her. From the hurt on her face, I think she took my comment as disrespecting her husband, which wasn’t my intention. I’m just all twitchy from seeing her molested right in front of me. I

know she thinks she’s tough and can handle herself, but I gave it a second and the creepy asshole still didn’t remove his hands from her ass. Fuck. It’s not her I’m mad at, so I try to simmer the fuck down by going back outside. When I return, Z seems to have imparted some wisdom that’s calmed her a bit. The band liked the green I brought tonight, so I quietly make my way over to discuss future business with them. I don’t need Hope overhearing this, but I’d rather not miss this opportunity. I’m shocked as shit when Roxy and Cherry show up. Had no idea they ran in these circles. But bikers and rockers overlap more than you think, so it shouldn’t surprise me. Roxy and I had a thing awhile back. Cherry not so much, although she’s never stopped trying. Since Hope came into my life, Roxy has made herself scarce. Even though the house lights are on and the show ended a while ago, the bar is packed. On our way out, Hope darts over to talk to Lilly for a second. I give Z a shoulder slap. “Working it out?” The corner of his mouth twists, and he gives me a subtle head shake. After the girls hug, Hope marches to the door. Something is definitely on her mind, but I’m not sure what. The weed? The ass-grabbing and subsequent beat-down? My big, stupid mouth? Take your pick.

As we’d planned, Jonny’s taking Sophie home. Rock and I leave the club by ourselves. A storm of emotion is brewing through me, brought on by seeing those two skanks from the MC. As he opens the car door for me, he stops to study my face. “You okay?” Let it go. But I can’t. My racing thoughts speed away, leaving me out of control and close to tears. “No.” His startled expression triggers my anger. For someone so in charge and in control, how can he be so fucking clueless? “Why don’t you ever pay such close

attention to me at the clubhouse?” “What? None of my brothers would ever harm you, Baby Doll.” “No. Not the guys. Do you have any idea…never mind.” His fingers tighten on my chin, lifting my face to him. “Hope, talk to me.” “The guys treat me well. Except Wrath, but I don’t care about him lecturing me and always trying to scare me away—I can handle him. What hurts…” Pain closes my throat, making it impossible to get the words I want to say out. Tears roll down my cheeks. God, I’m such a coward and a baby. I’m thirty-three years old. My boyfriend is thirty-fucking-eight. Of course he’s slept with other women. I’ve known this all along. But in a “normal” dating situation, I wouldn’t be expected to spend so much time with his past conquests or take shit from them. My tears alarm him. “Hope, baby, tell me what’s wrong. Why are you crying?” I take several deep breaths, trying to loosen my throat and calm myself. “You’re all worried about me going to clubs and guys hitting on me, but you think nothing of letting those catty bitches at your clubhouse try to rip me apart. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be around them, knowing they’ve been with you and are waiting for the day you finally get bored with me so they can jump you again?” “Honey, I told you—” My hurt and sadness suddenly mutates into anger. “No, what pisses me off is I’m expected to cat fight with those bitches and claim you like some piece of territory, right? That’s what ol’ ladies do? But I can’t do that. That’s not who I am. You want me to accept your bossy caveman crap, then you’ve got to accept who I am too.” The confusion on his face is visible. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Honey, when one got in your face, I got rid of her. I offered to get rid of the rest, and you told me not to.” The hard lump settles back in my throat, but I squeeze out the words anyway. “I didn’t realize how horrible it would be week after week. I want to fight my own battles, but I can’t deal—I feel like such a coward. I’m too soft for your life, Rock. I settle things with words, not my fists.” “Baby doll, I love you just the way you are. I love how soft and sweet and smart you are. I’m so fucking lucky to have you. I love that you always handle yourself with class. I don’t want my woman off starting cat fights and embarrassing me.” “I hate sleeping in that fucking bed, knowing how many skanks have shared it with you,” I grit out before I even realize what I’m saying. Panic and sorrow threaten to overwhelm me. I’d feel less exposed if I were standing out here buck naked. Rock’s hands cup my shoulders, and he leans down into my face. “Babe, no one else has ever been in that particular bed but you and me. I promise you I ended all of those relationships. I’ve never lied to you. I told you the absolute truth—I haven’t been with anyone else since that day I left you at your house.” In the

middle of his speech, he’s managed to maneuver me so I’m sandwiched between his hard chest and the cold metal of the car behind me. Warm lips press against my forehead. “Please don’t punish me for shit I’ve done in the past, Hope.” His low, gravelly voice is unusually strained. “I’m not.” I blink rapidly, trying to stop the tears. “It just hurts.” His rough fingers stroke my cheek. “Baby, I’ve done everything possible to make it clear to everyone that we’re together.” I snort out a humorless laugh. “I know.” “If they’re giving you shit, you have to tell me, or Trinit—” “Don’t you dare put this on her. She’s been nothing but sweet to me, but she’s not supposed to be my babysitter.” “I can’t fix it if I don’t know. Give me names so I can take care of it.” “Jesus Christ, have you really screwed so many women you can’t even remember?” “Hope—” “This is stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything. Can you take me home now?” I can see he wants to argue, but I push him back. “Please. Take me home. Now.”

Shame isn’t an emotion I waste a lot of energy on. At the moment, though, I’m feeling a fuck lot of it crashing over me. For years I told myself I was only fucking around so much until I found the right woman. I wish it had occurred to me how those encounters would affect any future relationship. Deep down I’ve worried all along Hope and I were not meant to be. We’re just too damn different. She deserves better than me. But I can’t let her go. I love her too fucking much. And I can’t stand seeing her hurting. Knowing it’s my fault is even worse. She’s obviously been holding onto this pain for a while, not wanting to admit any vulnerability. Trying to be strong for me, because she thinks that’s what I want her to be. After she handled herself so well with Cookie and Inga, I figured things were fine. I should have fucking known better. Those catty bitches would mistake Hope’s sweet personality for weakness and try to exploit it. I’m trying not to dwell on the fact that she asked me to take her home. “Babe, I think we need to talk about this more.” “I can’t tonight, Rock. I need some space.” Fuck me. It should have sunk in when she and Sophie were making those jokes

earlier. One, Sophie knew exactly what Hope was talking about, so obviously Hope has been distressed enough to talk to Sophie about the situation. Two, Hope’s wild laughter seemed a little too out of control and forced. But tonight is the first time we’ve really hung out with her friends like this, so I assumed I was discovering another side of her. My knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel with so much force. With every mile closer to her house, my gut is screaming to ignore her request and take her home with me so we can work this out. But hounding her isn’t going to solve the problem. I should have done something sooner. In my defense, this is the first time in years any of the brothers have had anyone approaching an ol’ lady. Bricks hasn’t been a patched brother for very long, and he never introduced his ex to the MC. I should have realized it would come as a shock to some of the club girls and they wouldn’t behave themselves. Obviously Roxy and Cherry must be two of the culprits, because seeing them tonight seemed to be what triggered Hope. Christ, I’ve never even fucked Cherry. She started tagging along with Roxy during my self-imposed celibacy thing, so I avoided her. Doesn’t mean she hasn’t been filling Hope’s head with lies, though. I didn’t want to focus on it, but the comment about the bed really got to me. Cause I got rid of my old one the minute I decided to make Hope mine. I don’t think the significance of what I revealed to her sunk in. Most of all, I’m furious with myself. I waited a long time to be her man. My job is to protect her from all threats, and I’ve failed. Doesn’t matter if the threat is the girls who hang around my clubhouse. If I’m going to insist she spend time in my world, it’s not fair that she’s miserable there. Hope’s strengths are in other areas. If I wanted a hair-pulling, face-scratching, brawler for an ol’ lady, I could have had my pick. But I love how kindhearted my girl is. I don’t want her to change who she is for anything or anyone. Everything in me wants to protect her and keep her safe, so, it’s time I step the fuck up and do a better job. Walking her to her door and saying good night fucking sucks. Her eyes are all red and wet. Words aren’t my thing, so the right ones evade me. I’d give anything to see her smile right now. “Baby, everything will be okay. I’ll fix this,” I try to reassure her. “Please just forget I said anything. I don’t want to be the cause of trouble in your club.” Something dark and uncomfortable spreads through me with her words. She’s more composed now, and every calm blink of her eyes stokes my worst fear. That I’ll lose the woman I love. I’m so focused on keeping her safe from physical danger I’ve forgotten that I’m capable of pushing her away all on my own, just because of the people I associate with. I press my palms to either side of her face. “No, Baby Doll. I’ve been doing a piss-poor job of taking care of you, and that ends now.” She tries to shake out of my grasp, but I hold her still. Lowering my head by degrees, I seal my mouth over hers. She tastes so fucking sweet, and I desperately want to lick her all over. I relax as her lips open under mine, allowing my tongue to

dip inside to stroke over hers. She surges up on her toes, pressing into me. A quiet moan from the back of her throat gets me hard as cement in no time. Slender fingers curl into my leather cut, pulling me closer. A few seconds later, her hands flatten against my chest and push me back. She chokes on a soft sob. “Baby, no.” She wriggles out of my embrace and pushes inside. “Text me when you get home,” she asks before shutting the door. I guess it’s something.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hope asked me to leave Trinity out of it, but what she doesn’t realize is that it’s

Trinity’s unofficial job to make sure the club girls behave themselves. I’m not mad at her. Not at all. I know how sneaky these little bitches can be, but I do want to get some information from her. Knocking on her door gets me nowhere. Turning around, I see Teller working out in the gym and duck my head inside. “You seen Trin?” He frowns. “Last I saw, she and Wrath were in the war room watching a movie.” I’m not even sure how to respond to that. The fuck? Sure enough, I find them coming out of the war room together. I’m not even going to ask. “Trin, I need to talk to you.” Wrath squeezes her shoulder and whispers something in her ear. As I approach, Wrath gives me a chin lift. “How was the show?” “Fine. Need to talk to you about some stuff.” I made a deal we’ll need to hammer out. But Hope’s comments about the way my best friend has been treating her have me really pissed off at the moment. “We can discuss it tomorrow, though.” “Hope come back with you?” Trinity asks. My gaze darts to Wrath, who finally takes a hint and gets lost. “No, that’s kind of what I need to talk to you about.” Unlocking the war room, I usher her inside. We pull out the two chairs closest to the door and sit facing each other. “What’s wrong, Rock?” “You notice any of the girls hassling Hope?” Trinity thinks it over. “Besides me, she talks to Swan a little bit. She never talks shit about Hope. Same for Envy and Breeze.” All girls I’ve never slept with, so that doesn’t surprise me. But, I seize on another part of what she said. “Who has been talking shit about her?” Trinity’s mouth twists. “Fucking Roxy. She’s a cunt.” I can’t stop the sharp bark of laughter that escapes me. It’s rare to hear Trin use that word. Then I remember after I took myself off the menu, Roxy went at Wrath

pretty hard for awhile. “She give you shit too, Trin?” Trinity shrugs. “Of course, but I can handle it. You think she’s been hassling Hope?” My shoulders lift. I have no idea, because Hope won’t open up to me. “When? Either you or me is usually with her when she’s up here,” Trinity finishes. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t give me names.” She cocks her head to the side. “Want me to ask her?” “Nah, she’ll know I put you up to it.” Trinity sinks her teeth in her bottom lip as she’s thinking over the problem. “If Roxy’s giving Hope shit, then Cherry will be in on it too.” Fuck. Trinity and Cherry have a very recent beef, and I’m sure I’m making things worse for Trin right now, but I gotta know. “Anyone else?” “Ginger,” she spits out. Guilt punches me in the gut. Ginger’s been causing trouble for years. Her round, rosy ass shoulda been booted from the MC a long time ago. “They’re the toxic twat trio,” Trinity tells me with a completely straight face. “I don’t even—” Trinity shakes her head. “I didn’t come up with it.” I hate stirring up bad shit for her, but I have to ask my next question. “Don’t get mad, but you know which brothers they’re tight with right now?” Her jaw tightens. “Definitely Stash and Ravage. Probably the prospects. Anyone else you have to ask yourself.” I give her a wry smile and pat her leg. “Thanks, honey. Listen, I told you a long time ago, if we needed to get rid of girls, I’d back you. I don’t want you taking shit from any of these bitches. We clear?” “If we ran off every bitch who gave me lip, there’d be no one left to fuck the guys, Rock,” she deadpans. “Dammit, Trin, I’m serious.” But I can’t help chuckling a little.

ALL WEEK long stuff came up that kept us apart. I’m able to take Hope out to lunch twice and we talk every night on the phone, but nothing more than that. She’s put up a bit of a wall and talks her way out of spending any nights together. It’s killing me, but I’m working hard at trying to give her the space she seems to need. Besides the sex, I miss waking up next to her, holding her at night, and talking to her in the morning over breakfast. I’m a complete sap and don’t give a shit. All I want to do is fix this distance between us because it unnerves me. But I am also trying to tread the line between attentive boyfriend and overbearing asshole. She doesn’t bring up the club girl issue again, and neither do I. But it’s still hanging in the air every time we talk. Since I haven’t had an opportunity to take care of it yet, I don’t want to mention it either. When I ask her what time she wants me to pick her up Friday night—like I have every Friday for the past few weeks—she hesitates.

“I’m going out with a few friends, so I’ll drive myself up after.” I don’t like this answer at all. “Will you be drinking?” “Probably not.” “Hope, I don’t want you drinking and driving. You need a ride, call me.” Nothing but dead air. Fuck, I wish I could see her face. “I will—promise.” “Love you, Baby Doll.” “Me too.” Not good enough. My fist itches to connect with something. If I don’t fix this, I’m going to lose her. I can feel it. The sensible thing to do is call a meeting this week before the rowdiness starts up. This is long overdue. Z gets the word out, and pretty much everyone who has anything to do with the club shows up early tonight. Hangarounds, club girls, prospects, and patch-holders are seated or standing in the dining room. Trinity and the prospects have taken care of drinks. I notice with a bit of annoyance how none of the other girls, except Swan, have lifted a finger to help Trinity out. That shit ends tonight. Wrath goes over some new security issues. Nothing top secret, of course, but still important. When he’s done, I step up. I re-iterate a few of the things Wrath touched on before delving into what I really want to talk about. “I don’t think it’s a secret that I’ve taken an ol’ lady. Most of you have met Hope.” Some of the guys whistle and clap, making my mouth twist up in a grin. “This shouldn’t need to be said, but since we’ve got a few new faces, I’m going to say it anyway. Everyone associated with this club treats her with respect. If you don’t, you are directly disrespecting me.” I let those words hang in the air so they sink in to a few of the thick skulls I see in the room. “She’s a little shy, so I expect all of you to make her feel welcomed in my clubhouse.” Roxy actually has the nerve to raise her hand. My eyes skip to her, and she takes it as permission to open her mouth. “Why ain’t she here for this? Ya know, if she’s gonna be part of the club.” Some of the guys grumble and shake their heads. “I’ll give her the details later,” I answer with a hard stare that shuts her the fuck up. “Next thing I want to talk about…” I curl my finger at Trinity and motion her forward. “Lot of you know Trinity. She’s been running the clubhouse and taking care of things for LOKI for a long time.” Trinity blushes and ducks her head. A couple of the guys clap and heckle her a little. She giggles, so I let it slide. “Anyone needs supplies for the clubhouse, kitchen stuff, beer—” One of the guys yells out, “Condoms?” I shake my head. “Yeah, that too.” “Snugger fit, right, Rav?” Trinity jokes back. Ravage, is a good sport and laughs along with everyone else.

“Can we get back on track?” After everyone settles down, I’m able to continue. “Just for clarification, Trinity answers to me. She is in charge of the household stuff. Whether you’re a hangaround, prospect, or club girl, if you’re spending time in our clubhouse drinking our beer, smoking our weed, enjoying the benefits of the MC, you best pitch the fuck in and help Trin out. Show her respect. She does a lot for the club, and I want to start seeing some fucking gratitude.” Trinity’s face flushes bright pink as the guys yell, “Thank you, Trinny!” at her. I’ve probably confused things a little by stating that Trinity answers to me. But I have my reasons for phrasing things the way I did, and I don’t need to explain myself to anyone. Clapping my hands, I grab everyone’s attention again. “Lecture part’s over. Sparky’s got some new shit he wants some opinions on—he’ll be setting up in the champagne room in a little bit. Pay him a visit if you wanna be his guinea pig.” The volume in the room instantly jumps to ten. Trinity turns to me. “What was that all about?” “Just what I said. I shouldn’t be letting you fend for yourself with these bitches. It’s better if it comes from me. And I do appreciate everything you do around here.” Her eyes well up. “Don’t you dare fucking cry on me, Trin,” I warn her. “I’m not,” she sniffles. “You’ve always taken good care of me, Rock. I got no complaints.” “I know.” “I’ll do a better job looking out for Hope, promise.” Couple of the girls swarm around Trinity to ask her what she needs help with, and she takes them into the kitchen with her. The toxic trio watches her leave but stays put. “What’s goin’ on, prez?” Wrath asks. “Nothing. Stay close tonight.” I nod my head at the three girls. “Keep an eye on them. Their days here are numbered.” Suddenly Wrath’s all business. His face locks down into his hard, Enforcer expression. “Rock, if it’s a security issue, you gotta tell me.” “Nothing like that.” “They hassling Trin?” he asks with an edge to his voice. “Possibly.” “Hope?” I shrug. “Can’t get either of them to give me details.” “Rox is trouble, no doubt. You thinking of banning her?” “Maybe.” “Christ, you’re a cryptic fuck tonight.” “We got any brothers coming in from downstate?” “A few.” “Good. Maybe we can send the toxic trio back with them.”

Wrath snorts. “Fine by me.”

Girls’ night out is what I need. Rock has consumed my life since the night we got together, and I’ve been neglecting the few friends I have. Sophie, Mara, and I meet up at Hamilton’s. Of course, the only thing I can think about is the first night I came in here after Clay’s death. Meeting up with Rock. Crap. Now I miss him terribly. Sophie is looking to stir up trouble tonight. She’s wearing a black, sparkly crop top and red leather skater skirt that reaches mid-thigh. I’m pretty sure if she twirls around, it will flare up and flash us her underwear. Hopefully she’s actually wearing underwear. Her long, curly brown hair is loose, falling halfway down her back. Mara is married to one of the scariest City Court judges I’ve ever appeared in front of. I’m surprised he let her out of the house. She is dressed much more conservatively in jeans and a peach-colored, lacy peplum top. “Who’s watching Cora?” I ask when she pulls out her phone for the tenth time. She gives me a strange look. “Damon.” I melt a little thinking of big, scary Judge Oak home alone with his baby daughter. “He’s picking me up at ten, so let’s make those drinks count!” Sophie orders a pitcher of margaritas, which arrives at the same time Lilly does. “Seriously, we have got to start meeting half way or something,” she grouses as she drops into the chair next to me. “Who’s DD?” I throw my hand up. “I’ll do it. I have to drive up to Rock’s after anyway.” The later I get there, the better. Hopefully the muffler bunnies will be busy sucking tailpipes and leave me alone. “How is that going, Hope?” Mara asks. “Okay.” The corners of Sophie’s mouth turn down. “You don’t sound so sure. You guys looked pretty tight last week at Jonny’s show.” Lilly bristles at the mention of last weekend. Damn, by not being up at the clubhouse all week, I missed out on all the gossip. I wonder what ended up happening with Z. “I don’t know. Some of the same issues kinda came up. That overbearing caveman thing is starting to get on my nerves. Then, two of those bitches from his club showed up there.”

“Oh, fuck no, they didn’t, babe. Why didn’t you point them out to me?” Sophie asks. “I woulda had Jonny kick them out.” “You were preoccupied at the time,” I tell her with a pointed look. She giggles. “Which ones?” “Uh, Foxy and Cherry.” Mara frowns. “What kind of names are those?” “Whore names,” Lilly declares with a completely straight face, then she turns to me. “Do you mean Roxy?” “Maybe?” I shrug. “Definite whore.” Mara taps my shoulder. “Go back to the overbearing caveman thing. That sounded hot.” I half smile. “It is most of the time. Except, you know, where he punches some guy out for grabbing my butt.” Sophie shakes her head at me. “Are you kidding? I was glad Jonny and Rock took care of those two assholes.” “Well, he made a big deal out of chasing me down when I went to a client appointment too.” “Why?” Mara asks. “Bad neighborhood.” “You went by yourself?” “Yeah.” Everyone is staring at me now. “Honey, that man loves you and wants to keep you safe. That’s okay. That means he’s a keeper,” Mara informs me in a very stern tone of voice. “Mara’s a sucker for the strong, dominant type,” Sophie says with a giggle. “Shut the fuck up!” Lilly shouts. “You let that sexy hunk of man meat tie you up and spank you and shit?” “Jesus Christ, Lilly—inform the whole bar, why don’t you,” Mara scolds back. Now we’re all staring at Mara, who is bright pink from chest to cheeks. “We’re not hardcore or anything.” “You have a dungeon in your basement,” Sophie says with more laughter. If it’s possible, Mara blushes even harder. “Playroom, not dungeon,” she corrects. “I will never look at Judge Oak the same,” I mutter to the ceiling. Mara stares at me in alarm. “You can’t say anything. It could really mess up his career if certain people found out.” “Mara, I barely have a clue what’s going on, so, we’re good there.” Poor Mara is still red in the face as she stands up. “I’m going up to the bar to talk to Brian. Ross wanted me to feel him out while I was here.” “I’ll go feel him up,” Lilly snickers. Mara ignores her and heads to the bar. Sophie’s watching me intently. “What else happened after you left the show?”

I sigh, because I’ve felt bad about this all week. Maybe it will do me good to get it off my chest. “I kind of went off on Rock about the bimbos who keep hassling me at the club.” “Wow. What did he say?” “I don’t know. He seemed surprised, which just pissed me off more, you know? I drive through a bad neighborhood or some guy looks at me funny, and he jumps all over it. But where I feel the most uncomfortable and unsafe, his own clubhouse, he has no clue?” Sophie reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Honey, he’s not a mind reader. You told me yourself, those bitches are sneaky.” “I know. That’s why I feel bad. I don’t know what to say…" Sophie raises an eyebrow, encouraging me to continue. “We haven’t spent the night together since, kind of at my request.” Lilly and Sophie both looked stunned of course. "I need a little space. Frankly, I'm shocked he's actually letting me have it. But it also freaks me out." Sophie chuckles at my inconsistency. "Yeah, must be killing him." I shake my head, because her words pile on the unease I'm already feeling in my gut over the whole situation. "His best friend there, Wrath, already hates my guts and thinks I don’t fit in, so I'm worried about causing trouble.” “Is Wrath the big, hot, hulking blond guy?” Lilly asks. Of course she remembers those details. “Yeah, he’s also mean and scary.” “My favorite kind,” Lilly giggles while rubbing her palms together. “Don’t get any ideas,” I warn her. “He and Z are really tight.” At that, Lilly shrugs and looks away. “You’re going up there tonight, right?” Sophie asks, steering the conversation back where she wants it. “Yeah.” “Talk it out with him. I bet you anything he’ll be watching out for you like a hawk now that he knows.” I’m not sure if I like that idea or if it makes me feel even more helpless. Mara returns, shaking her head. “I wish Ross would grow the fuck up and start dating guys in his own damn age range,” she grumbles. Sophie makes a wide-eyed, twisty mouthed face that makes me snort water out my nose. “So, about this dungeon,” Lilly prompts as soon as Mara reclaims her seat. “Oh, jeez,” Sophie mutters, rolling her eyes heavenward. “I need to come stay at your house,” Lilly whines. “We’re not swingers,” Mara hisses. Lilly slaps a hand to her chest as if she’s offended. “I’ll bring my own boy.” We go around and around like this for awhile. Even though I haven’t had any alcohol, I’m laughing just as hard as my three drunk friends. I’ve really missed this.

Hope has ignored every call and every text I’ve sent her. At first, I figured she was ignoring me to prove a point. She’s having fun with her friends. Maybe we’ve been too fast, too soon and she needs a break. After a couple of hours go by and still no word from my girl, I start to worry. Of course, there’s also the announcement I made earlier. I made a big speech about people showing Hope respect, and now she’s not even here… …Something Roxy comments on as she straddles my lap. “Where’s your ol’ lady, prez?” Shoving her off my lap and onto the couch, I ignore her question. Roxy isn’t put off that easily. “Wanna go upstairs? I won’t tell goody-twoshoes,” she purrs. Christ. What the fuck did I ever see in this bitch? “Roxy,” I warn. “Were you paying attention earlier? Do not talk about my ol’ lady that way.” She pushes her lips into a duck-like pout and stomps away. Trinity takes her place on the couch. “That looked awkward.” Running my fingers through my hair, I nod. “What’s wrong?” “Haven’t heard from Hope all night. She went out with some of her friends, but she’s supposed to come up after.” “She probably can’t hear her phone if they’re out clubbing or something.” “Probably.” “You think she’s ignoring you? I’ll call her.” Trin pulls out her cell phone and dials Hope. I’m surprised. Didn’t realize they’d traded numbers. “Hey, First Lady, it’s Trin. Just wondering if I’m gonna see you tonight. Call me back if you get a chance.” My head snapped up when she started talking, then fell back when I realized she was just leaving a message. “Sorry, Rock. Went straight to voicemail. Maybe she’s someplace where they have bad service.” “Yup.” “Do you know where they went?” “No,” I answer with a good amount of cranky asshole in my voice. Her brows lift, but there’s a softness to her expression. “That’s not like you.” I let out a sharp exhale. “She’s getting fed up with me being so overprotective and shit. I didn’t want to push her.” Trinity snickers.

Wrath drops down next to us, ending our conversation. “How’s the training coming?” I ask him. “Good. You know I don’t sweat these fights. Live for that shit.” “Yeah, you just been putting a lot of effort into it lately,” I answer with a smirk. Wrath glares at me. “What are you so pissed off about?” He doesn’t answer, just keeps giving me the same hard stare, as if that will shut me up. “Well, boys, seems like you’ve got things to discuss,” Trinity says with a laugh. She pats both of us on the shoulder and hightails it away from the couch. “Dick,” Wrath grumbles at me. “Asshole,” I answer, making him chuckle. “I’m gonna have Hope come to the fight with us,” I tell him. Wrath lets out a sharp laugh. When I don’t join him, he stops and stares. “You’re fucking kidding, right?” “No, why?” “That’s no place for Cinderella. She’ll freak the fuck out.” That reminds me. “Listen—whatever you’ve got against Hope, knock it the fuck off.” Wrath cocks his head at me. “She complaining about me already?” As if that would justify him being a dick to her. “I know you think you’re doing your job. I appreciate that, but don’t fuck with me on this. She’s going to be part of my life, so stop trying to scare her away. Focus on keeping her safe—that’s in your job description too.” “Why the fuck you think I’m trying to scare her away?” Christ, he’s impossible. I just continue to glare at him. He breaks our staring contest first. “Fine. You sure taking her to the fight is safe, though?” Ignoring his sarcasm, I answer his question. “She’ll be fine. Z, Teller, and Murphy will be with us.” Wrath’s jaw tightens. “Fine. I’d like to have Trinity there. Maybe it will make her feel more comfortable if Hope comes.” My mouth stretches into a genuine smile. “Good. You want more of the guys to come?” “Nah. It’s bad enough being in Viper territory. We’ll have the all clear for us, but we bring too many in, it could get ugly.” He’s right about this. “We’ll just have to make sure we keep our girls safe,” I say, completely serious. Wrath’s eyes search the room, finally landing on Trinity. “Yeah. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

CHAPTER NINE

A t exactly ten o’clock, my three drunk friends and I are on the sidewalk in front of

Hamilton’s waiting for Mara’s husband. He pulls into a space in front of the restaurant and greets his wife with a big, sweep-her-off-her-feet hug. I definitely miss Rock. When they come up for air, Mara reintroduces each of us. “Hi, Judge Oak,” comes out of my mouth automatically, because I’m nerdy that way. He huffs a laugh. “You can call me Damon, you know.” Through the back window, I spot baby Cora asleep in her car seat. “Can I take a peek?” I ask Mara. “Of course.” She hits a button, and the back window slides down. “Oh my goodness, she’s so cute. I want to smoosh her little cheeks.” Mara giggles. “Don’t. She really hates being woken up.” “Wonder where she gets that from?” Damon teases in a low voice, and suddenly I can’t get the image of him tying my friend up out of my head. He looks each of us over. “You girls okay to drive?” Lilly chooses that moment to sway on her feet. His mouth turns down. “I’m guessing that’s a no.” Turning away from the baby, I answer, “I’m driving them, Damon. It’s okay.” “That’s crazy, Hope. Sophie’s at least forty-five minutes away. How are they going to get their cars tomorrow?” I shrug, because we really hadn’t thought that far ahead. In the back of my head, I know I’m just looking for any excuse to get to the clubhouse as late as possible. “You girls can come home with us. I’ll bring you back to get your cars in the morning.” Damon gestures to the back seat. “Just don’t wake Cora.” One look at Sophie and Lilly, and I smell trouble. They’re both tight with the effort of holding back laughter. Mara’s eyes widen, silently begging them to keep quiet. “Can we have a tour of your playroom?” Lilly asks with big, innocent eyes. Damon goes completely rigid next to Mara, who I’m pretty sure is about to kill Lilly. Sophie’s doubled over laughing and flashing her ass to all the patrons behind

Hamilton’s large, plate glass window. “Someone is getting a trip to the playroom, and it’s not your friends,” Damon growls into Mara’s ear. Since I’m standing right next to them, I hear every word, but shoot my gaze to the sky, pretending to hear nothing. “I’ll go up to the MC with you,” Lilly says when she stops laughing. “Uh, that might not be a good idea. I can’t guarantee you won’t see something that pisses you off,” I say as delicately as possible. “I’ll go with you and kick some muffler bunny ass,” Sophie offers. “Uh, not tonight.” Damon’s shrewd gaze takes all of this in. “What are they talking about, Hope?” Crap. I can see it now. Damon forbidding Mara from hanging out with me because my boyfriend is a criminal. Fantastic. “Nothing,” I answer, hoping it’s enough to satisfy his curiosity. By the time I make it to the clubhouse, it’s almost midnight. As I pass the turnoff that will take me home, I contemplate skipping the clubhouse all together, but I miss Rock and I promised to be there. When I pull into the yard, people are everywhere. Music is pumping out of the clubhouse. Front door wide open. I’m a little freaked out, so I pull my phone from my clutch to let Rock know I’m here. And see he’s called and texted me at least ten times tonight. And gotten Trinity to call me. Whoops. I didn’t think to look at my phone at all tonight, and guilt descends on me. I bet he’s been worried. Deciding to brave the crowd, I dart into the house. A few people stop to say hello, which surprises me. Everyone’s being extra nice for some reason. I can’t see Rock anywhere. Out with my friends downtown, my turquoise dress and lacy knit tights seemed cute and trendy. Here, I feel overdressed and out of place. This is nothing new—I always feel out of place. But tonight I wish I’d stopped home to at least slip into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. Screw it. The only opinion that matters to me is Rock’s. Right after that thought, I spot him working his way through the throng of people. Everyone in the room disappears as we stare each other down. His gray eyes are dark with need. It’s been a long week apart. Yes, we’d gone to lunch a couple times and we’d spoken on the phone every day, but I’d woken up alone every morning and hated it. After seven days of loneliness, I am desperate for his mouth, his hands, his body. He stops right in front of me and settles his hands on my waist. “I’ve been worried about you. Why didn’t you answer any of my calls?” My mouth turns down, not because he’s asking, but because I feel bad for not checking in. I know he worries, and he wasn’t asking anything unreasonable. “I’m sorry—I never heard my phone. I didn’t realize you’d tried to call until I was sitting outside, and then I just wanted to come in and find you.” That seems to wipe any remaining bits of anxiety off his face.

“You look gorgeous. How many guys would I have had to beat up tonight if I’d been with you?” I frown. The answer is none. We hadn’t been hit on all night. “No one.” “I find that hard to believe.” Crisscrossing my forearms behind his neck, I pull him down and, standing on my tiptoes, feather a soft kiss along his lower lip. His arms tighten around me, and I sigh in relief. Our mouths meet again, soft at first as if after our time away from each other we need to ask permission. I hate that feeling. After a few gentle reunion kisses, the light brush of his mouth against mine intensifies, unleashing every bit of passion I’d craved this week. His tongue slicks along my bottom lip, and I open for him. We nip and suck at each other as if we were the only people in the room. Rock’s hands slide down to cup my ass, pressing me against him. The proof of how much he wants me pressing into my belly. Breaking our kiss, he touches his forehead to mine. In a hoarse voice, he whispers, “Baby doll, I’ve missed you so damn much.” “Me too.” “I’ve been trying hard to give you the space you seem to need, but it’s killing me.” Hot tears fill my eyes from hearing the rawness in his voice as he admits this. “I’m—” He shakes his head, cutting off my apology. “I need to take you upstairs. You good with that?” Before I can answer, the room erupts into whistles and catcalls. Rock groans. The interruption reminds me of where we’re standing. “Let me run to the ladies’ room. It was a long drive up.” He flashes a tight smile and lets me go. Ducking into the bathroom, I quickly take care of business. While I’m at the sink, running a brush through my hair, the door opens and Roxy walks in. “Oh, you finally decided to show up? Too much of a chicken to sit through the lecture Rock had to give everyone because of your whiny ass?” I have no clue what she’s talking about. “Everyone here knows what a stuck-up bitch you are. You better watch your fucking back from now on.” Then with a nasty smile, she adds, “Don’t worry. I kept Rock warmed up for you.” Since I know Rock called me at least ten times, I’m not sure when he would have time to fool around with her skank ass tonight. “I highly doubt that.” “You can’t keep a man like him happy for long.” She eyes my outfit with a scowl. “You look ridiculous here.” I eye her torn, barely-there denim skirt and midriff-baring tank top with equal scorn. “We can’t all shop at Whores “R” Us.” “Bitch.” “Listen up, Roxy. . .or. . .Foxy or whatever the hell your name is. I understand

you and Rock have whatever history you have. But that’s all it is. History. Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fuck you. Who the fuck you think you are?” Fighting the trembling in my body, I straighten up. “I’m the president’s ol’ lady.” I fix her with my hard lawyer stare. “You don’t see Cookie around here anymore, do you?” Her tiny brain isn’t sure how to respond. I use the pause to move around her and head for the door. I should have kept a wider path between us, because she grabs a hank of my hair and yanks. Hard. I yelp out an unholy shriek and before I know it, Wrath and Rock are pulling her off me. Wrath carries her outside, while she curses and hurls insults at the whole world. And that’s the end of Roxy. Aw, just as I finally figured out her name. “Fuck. Are you okay? I got nervous when you were gone so long, and when I saw Roxy come in here after you—” “I’m fine.” I rub the tender spot on my scalp. “Well, I will be fine, especially if I never have to see that skank again.” “Yeah, babe, she’s done. Cherry and Ginger too.” I quirk an eyebrow at that cheery news. Rock must have used our week apart to do a little investigating. Those three were the worst of them for sure. No regrets that they’re leaving. “I’m so sorry. This never should have happened.” He ushers me upstairs. Most of the people have gone outside to watch the spectacle of Roxy, Cherry, and Ginger getting the boot. “Rock, are the other guys, the rest of the club…are they going to blame me for this?” “Doesn’t matter. They broke the rules. Everyone knows what happens.” “Did you say something to them tonight?” He shifts uncomfortably. “We had a meeting earlier. General club business. Just officially announced your position in my life. Told everyone they need to start showing Trinity more respect too, so it wasn’t only about you.” Clever. “Jeez, I hope the other girls aren’t going to turn on Trinity now.” He cocks his head at me as he slides the key in and opens the door. “You’re always worrying about other people aren’t you, Baby Doll?” I’m not sure how to answer that, so I don’t.

Every part of my body sighed in relief the second Hope walked in the clubhouse tonight. I waited until I was calm enough not to give her a hard time for making me worry all night long. I promised I’d try not to be an overbearing dick, so I count to twenty before I approach her. This week without her has been the worst one I’ve had in a long damn time. I won’t risk a repeat. She’s so beautiful. Inside my sinful world, she looks like a character out of some princess movie. I can see her eyes scanning the room looking for me and the nervous way she pulls on her bottom lip. People stop to say hello, and she flashes an anxious smile but responds to everyone with what I know is a kind word. The blue dress she’s wearing flares into a skirt that swirls around her legs just above her knees. The material hugs her curves in all the best places. Curves my hands have missed gripping all week long. She’s curled her hair, and it only intensifies the princess thing she’s got going on tonight…until my eyes drop to her long legs. I’m not sure what the hell she’s wearing, but flashes of her pale, creamy skin peek through the black woven material, teasing the fuck outta me. Fuck, that’s hot. I want to take her upstairs and find out if they’re stockings being held up by some sexy garter getup or pantyhose that I’m going to rip a hole through so I can get to her sweet little pussy. It’s unfortunate if they’re expensive, because they’re about to get ruined one way or another. I can barely contain myself as I stop in front of her and grab her hips. By the tone of her voice, I can tell she feels bad for making me worry, so I let it go. She’s too damn beautiful, and I want her too much to risk any more fights. After she trots off, I signal Wrath over. We wait where we have a good view of the hallway and the door to the bathroom. Sure enough, Roxy stalks in there a few seconds later. “She’s so done, man,” Wrath growls. We hustle over, and as we reach the doorway, their voices come through loud and clear. Hearing my girl stand up for herself and proudly announce, “I’m the president’s ol’ lady,” does something to me. Christ, I fucking love how that sounds coming out of her mouth. Murder is on my mind when I hear Hope’s short scream. Roxy fights and kicks the whole way out. Cherry and Ginger come running to her defense. Wrath bans all three of them and tasks Birch with getting them the fuck out of here.

That Hope is worried about Trinity after what just happened to her destroys me. She’s so damn sweet. Regret crushes my chest as I think of the pain I’ve caused her. Hope doesn’t deserve the way she’s been treated by people associated with my club. There has to be a way I can make this up to her.

My eyes immediately go to the corner when we step into Rock’s room. What had previously been empty now has a wide, leather chaise lounge chair, reading lamp, and bookshelves set up. Stopping to stare, I ask, “What’s that?” “For you, Baby Doll. I want you to be more comfortable spending time here.” I’m not sure how to respond. Overwhelming emotions pulse through me. It’s just some furniture, but the knowledge that he did all this while I spent most of the week avoiding him stuns me. Then his hands settle on my hips, the heat of his body sending tingles over my skin. His lips brush against my ear, and a delicious shiver slides through me. “Want to try it out?” Do I ever. Approaching it slowly, I slide my fingers over the supple leather, then bend one leg and press it into the seat. My other leg follows, and I fold my arms over the back of the chair, arching my back. Only a slight creak of the floorboards tells me Rock is now standing behind me. Fingers lightly trail through my hair and down my back. “How did you know this was what I had in mind?” he asks in a rough voice. “Great minds and all that,” I answer with a soft giggle. His hand rubs up and down my back. “I like this color on you,” he says absently. My chest tightens. Roxy’s ugly words about me looking ridiculous echo in my head, and I sit back on my heels. Rock gives me a questioning look. “Roxy said I looked ridiculous in your clubhouse.” His face hardens, and he reaches out to tip my chin up. “My first thought when you walked in was how fucking beautiful you were.” His fingers skip to my hair, twirling it around. “I like the curls too.” Lowering my eyes, I focus on my hands clasped in my lap. “Thank you.” “No more talking about Roxy. I don’t ever want to hear her name pass your lips again. Especially not in here.” A flutter of fury kicks up in my stomach. Ugh, picturing about that little skank in

here with my man makes me want to hunt her down and choke her out. Rock’s gentle tugging on the ends of my hair pulls me from my ass-kicking fantasies. I lift my head back up to meet his gaze. “She’s never been in here, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Wow. Okay. Don’t want details, but that’s good to know. I let out a deep breath and relax my shoulders. “Can we continue?” Rock asks. The low rumble of his voice sends heat streaking through me. Too turned on to speak, I nod. “Good, because I have a mystery to solve.” My forehead wrinkles, and I stare up at him. He taps the back of the chair. “Put your hands here like you were before.” Rising up, I brace myself the way he requested. His big hands slide down my back once more, this time flipping my skirt up. He sucks air in through his teeth. “Fuck,” he groans. Nervous, I shift to the side a little. “What?” I’m not sure if he heard me, because he’s busy stripping off his clothes. Thud, thud go his boots. Clink of his belt. Rustle of his jeans being shoved to the floor. Each noise heightens my arousal. “Take your dress off,” he orders from behind me. Straightening up, I pull my hair to the side, revealing the zipper down my back. Another feral groan from Rock as his warm hand teases the zipper all the way down. He helps me pull the dress up over my head. When I reach to unhook my bra, he stills my hands. “Leave it.” He traces his fingers along the waistband of my tights, sending shivers of anticipation through my belly. “Were these expensive, Baby Doll?” he asks, low and sexy, lips brushing against my ear. “No,” I answer. “Good.” He nudges me back into place, with my hands braced against the back. The chair dips as he kneels behind me. His hand on my hip steadies me, spreading my knees, pressing my back down, so my ass is angled up. Both of his hands rub and caress my ass through the nylon. A slight pinch and a loud ripping sound fills the air. Cool air kisses my skin. His palm nuzzles against my now-exposed pussy. More fabric rips, and I let out a long moan. An excited quiver radiates from my belly down to my clit. One finger pushes inside and I wriggle against him, seeking more. “Yes,” I groan. His finger pushes deeper. Slow pulses, lulling me into a seductive rhythm. He adds another finger and works me steadily until I’m swaying back and forth. The harsh rushing through my ears drowns out any sounds for a moment, but I feel him position his cock against me and press inside.

From all the buildup, I’m crazy-close to letting go. “Not yet, Hope,” Rock warns through clenched teeth. I arch back toward the pounding snap of his hips. His hands tighten around my waist, squeezing hard. Each stroke spirals me higher. Smooth, slick strokes I can’t get enough of. “Please,” I beg through moans and gasps. He curls himself over me, reaching to flick circles over my clit. Hot and wet, he drags his tongue along my neck and nips my earlobe. His relentless thrusting never stops or slows. He keeps driving into me deeper, working me harder. Everything centers around where we’re joined, pleasure drowning me until I can’t hold back any longer. My short, erratic screams echo around us. “Fuck,” he gasps behind me. His hips jerk against me a few more times. A low grunt and deep exhalation. I collapse against the chaise, and he follows me down, rubbing my back, pressing kisses along my spine. Straightening my legs, I shift and turn until I’m facing him. He’s on his side, one arm wrapped around my waist, the other propping his head up so he can watch me. “You owe me a pair of tights,” I tease. He leans down and silences me with a long, deep kiss. After he pulls away, his sexy mouth twists into one of his irresistible smirks. “Totally worth it.”

CHAPTER TEN

“B abe, you wanna stay up at the clubhouse or at my house Thursday?”

Since her caseload is still small, Hope’s been taking Fridays off, so we normally spend the night together at one of those two places. Now that the clubhouse is free of girls itching to harass her, she seems more comfortable spending time there, which in turn makes my life easier. She walks into the living room, nervously twisting her hands. “I, uh, have a thing to go to Thursday night.” Her tone puts me on alert, and I sit up. “What kind of thing?” She waves her hand in the air. “A lawyer thing. For Mara’s husband? The judge? I normally wouldn’t go—I hate those things—but she asked me to, so…” “That mean Sophie’s going too?” “Yes…” Something about the way she answers sparks my interest. “You going together?” “No, I’m going with Mara’s friend, Ross. You’ve met him. He uh, isn’t really ‘out’ in the legal community. So, Mara used to go to these things as his date, but you know, since she’s married now, she asked me if I’d go with him.” I have met Ross. I have no problem with all my girl’s guy friends being gay. No problem. Still, something about her going as someone else’s date, no matter the reason, bothers me. “You said you don’t do those type of things, so that’s why I didn’t ask,” she says hurriedly. There it is. That’s why I feel like shit. She’s right. I did make a big point of telling her I would never escort her to something like that. And fuck, I meant it. But Christ, when I think of the amount of time she’s spent with me in my world, all the shit she’s put up with from the people in my club, doing that stuff because I needed her to. . .is escorting her to some stupid party really that big a deal? In the entire time we’ve been together, this is the first time she’s gone to one of these things. It’s not like she does it all the time. I’ve been silent for so long thinking this through that Hope drops her hands and returns to the kitchen where she was preparing dinner. She gives up, just like that. Maybe she’s embarrassed to be seen with me at that type of event? Even with

long sleeves and a collared shirt, traces of my ink will be visible. Well, no, she’s introduced me to her friends. By accident mostly. Even the invitation to Jonny’s show came unintentionally, because I happened to be sitting next to her when Sophie sent the invite. My girl never asks me to spend time with her friends, but I’m always making her spend time with mine. Fuck, she never demands anything from me. Except honesty. Which I haven’t completely given her yet. Pushing off the couch, I find her in the kitchen stirring sauce over the stove. “Smells good.” Without turning, she answers with a soft, “Thanks.” “Babe, I’ll go with you Thursday.” Her shoulders sag, not exactly the reaction I expected. “It’s okay. It’ll be boring. Clay never went with me to that type of stuff either. It’s not a big deal. I’m used to it.” I’m not crazy enough to think I’m in competition with her dead husband or anything. Still, her admission pushes me forward. Setting my hands on her shoulders, I pull her back from the stove. She drops the wooden spoon she was using on the counter and turns in my arms. Her deep green eyes stare up at me with concern. “What’s wrong, Rochlan?” She’s so serious all of a sudden. Maybe she doesn’t want me there. Truth, give her truth. “I want to take you.” She lets out a soft sigh. “Why? You can’t possibly be jealous of Ross. You’ve met him.” Cupping her cheeks with my hands, I draw her gaze up to meet mine. “It’s not a jealousy thing. You’ve been so agreeable about spending time doing stuff with me, it’s only fair I return the favor.” Confusion clouds her pretty face, and she looks down at the floor. “That’s not our deal. I knew your role as President meant I’d have to spend time at the club. You were upfront with me that you didn’t do suits, ties, and schmoozing. I agreed it was okay. I have no right to complain about it now.” Christ, how she’s twisting the knife in my heart, and she doesn’t even realize it. Throwing my words back at me without any venom. She’s completely honest and serious. “You’re not asking me, sweetheart. I’m offering. I should do this for you.” She glances up, and I get a glimpse of cautious optimism that cements my decision. “It’s at this stupid fancy-pants place. You’ll hate it.” “Is that your way of asking me if I own a suit?” I tease. The corners of her mouth twitch up. “No.” “Are you embarrassed to introduce me to your colleagues?” Tears shimmer in her eyes, and I want to punch myself. She places her hand on

my chest. “No. Please don’t ever think that.” I should have kept that thought to myself. My girl’s not like that. She’s proved it over and over again. “You worried your judge friend won’t want me there because of my record?” She tilts her head as if the thought never occurred to her, and a slight frown darkens her face. “No. It’s not like they’re going to do a background check at the door.” “You gonna be embarrassed if I can’t cover all my ink?” She tilts her head to the side, and a hint of a naughty smile curves her lips. “No. It’s sexy, since I’ll be the only one there who gets to see the full picture.” Well, doesn’t that answer excite the fuck outta me. Grasping her hand from my chest, I brush my fingers over her knuckles. “What time should I pick you up?” The second she opens the door Thursday night, I’m thrilled I offered to do this. Her sharp intake of breath and wide eyes as she takes me in is worth the discomfort I’m feeling in the stiff, preppy getup. I’m equally appreciative of her form-fitting navy dress and classy updo. The high heels accentuate her shapely legs, and I’m ridiculously turned on watching her hips sway as she glides over to my SUV. I relish the contrast between this sexy, elegant woman about to mingle with a bunch of uptight lawyers, and the breathy sex kitten I can turn her into when we’re alone. Although it’s sexy as fuck, the tight skirt means she can’t quite make it up into my vehicle. Fine with me. It gives me the opportunity to wrap my hands around her waist and give her a boost. She breaks into giggles as she smooths her skirt down. Now that I’ve had my hands on her, I want to push that skirt up around her thighs and fuck the living fuck out of her. Instead, like the good escort I plan to be tonight, I fire up the truck and back it down her long driveway. No matter how obsessed I’ve been with Hope since the day we met, if you’d told me two years ago I’d be voluntarily throwing on a suit and escorting her to a political fundraiser for a city court judge, I would have knocked you the fuck out. But here I am. Happy as fuck. The closer we get to the restaurant, the more nervous she seems. “Babe, you okay?” She grasps my hand, holding it tight. “It’s not you. Please don’t think that. I always get nervous going to these things. I hate them.” Lacing my fingers with hers, we hold hands until I have to put the truck in park. I hand over the keys to the valet and help her down. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?” Her lashes flutter as she drops her gaze. “No.” “Then I’m an asshole. You’re gorgeous, and I’m a lucky bastard to have you on my arm.” Mara meets us almost right away, which seems to help Hope relax a notch. I

vaguely remember meeting Mara before. Except for her slightly more generous curves and shorter stature, she and Hope could be sisters. Mara has the same fair coloring, although her hair is a few shades lighter. Squeezing Hope tight, she starts chattering a mile a minute. “I’m so, so happy to see you guys. I hate, hate, hate these things.” Hope’s mouth curves into a smile. “I know.” “Tell me the truth, Hope. Does this dress look okay?” My gaze drifts over the clingy white garment splashed with bright red roses. More than okay. She’s quite stunning, actually. But no one asked for my opinion, so I keep it to myself. “It’s beautiful,” Hope answers. Running self-conscious hands over her hips, she asks Hope again, “You’re sure it doesn’t accentuate my giant, baby-bearing hips?” I choke on a laugh. A completely inappropriate comment about men liking something to hold on to pops in my head, but I manage to keep my mouth shut. Hope chuckles. “No, honey. You’re gorgeous.” Just then, a tall, authoritative man slips his hand around Mara’s waist. “Are you fishing for compliments again, lovely?” Mara’s nose twitches. “No. I was trying to get an honest opinion from Hope. You’ll tell me I look hot in a hefty bag.” “That’s because it’s true.” He tears his gaze from his wife to greet Hope. Then his hawk eyes settle on me. He quirks an eyebrow at Hope. “Judge Oak, this is my boyfriend, Rochlan North.” He tsks at Hope. “How many times? It’s Damon to Mara’s friends.” We shake hands. “Good to meet you, Mr. North. My wife tells me you take good care of Hope.” Interesting. “I do my best. She’s a stubborn one.” Damon snorts. “I feel your pain,” he says with a nod at Mara. “Hey!” both girls protest. Damon kisses the top of Mara’s head. By the possessive way he holds onto her, I get the feeling Mara is the friend who gets the spankings in the group. From what Hope’s told me, one of her friends is rather kinky, and I’m mildly amused to find out it’s the judge and his wholesome-looking wife. This party just got a whole lot more interesting. “Thanks for coming.” Damon leans in to Hope. “I appreciate you being here. You know how much Mara hates these things.” Hope grins. “No problem. Go. Mingle. Raise money.” With another thank you, he walks away to socialize with some other guests. Mara stays put. Suddenly her eyes widen as she focuses on something behind us. “Looks like our firecracker is here.” Hope and I turn to see Sophie strutting in with Ross. Firecracker is a good way to

describe her. Tight, bright pink dress bordering the edge of classy and…not so classy. Sky-high heels and long curly hair. She fixes her dark blue eyes on us and drags Ross in our direction. “Where’s the champagne?” is the first thing she asks. Mara points her in the right direction, and Sophie stomps over without even saying hello. Ross shakes my hand. “Hey, date stealer.” I huff out a laugh. “Looks like you made a nice recovery.” “Yeah, going to have my hands full with her for sure.” “What’s wrong with her tonight?” Hope asks. Ross shakes his head. “Got me.” Sophie returns fisting two champagne glasses. She eyes me up and down, then shoots Hope a glare. “I’m so fucking jealous you managed to get your man in a suit and drag him down here.” A flash of guilt crosses Hope’s face, and I squeeze her hand. “I offered to join her, Sophie.” Her eyes widen in surprise, but she only answers with, “Looking good, Rock.” “Did you ask Jonny?” Mara asks. “Fuck, no. He would hate this,” she answers, while throwing me another questioning look. The girls cluster together and start talking in hushed tones. Ross and I make small talk. He’s actually kind of funny, so I don’t mind being shut out of the girltalk. Adam and his date join us, and it’s a regular sausage fest. After two glasses of wine, my girl’s eyes are glazed, her cheeks flushed, and she’s giggling louder than normal. As I slip my hand around her waist, she leans into me. Tipping her head up, a soft smile spreads over her face. “Thank you for this.” “No problem, Baby Doll.” “We can get going soon.” “I’m fine.” And I am. I haven’t broken out in hives yet. Or wanted to throat punch anyone. Hope’s friends are actually down to earth and easy to talk to. We don’t mingle much with anyone else, and that suits me just fine. Our attention is redirected to the middle of the room, where an out-of-control Sophie has taken to the dance floor. She’s pulled a mild-looking attorney with her, who seems to be surprised to find himself dancing with such a hot chick. “Uh, should we do something about that?” Ross asks. “She’ll calm down. If we bug her, it will make it worse,” Mara answers, but she doesn’t look totally convinced. I can’t imagine how awkward this is to have her friend behaving like a drunk sorority girl at her husband’s stuffy event. After a song or two, Sophie does tone it down, although it’s still pretty obvious she’s drunk off her ass. Hope’s invested in her conversation with another young, female attorney who joined their group, so I take the opportunity to duck in the men’s room. As soon as I step out, I spot Sophie holding up the wall across from the

bathrooms. “You okay, Soph?” She doesn’t seem surprised to see me. “You look really good tonight, Rock.” And my danger radar starts pinging like crazy. “Thanks. You need help getting back to the group?” She sort of nods, then lurches away from the wall, stumbling against me. She’s a slight thing, so the impact barely registers, but I’m not comfortable having one of Hope’s best friends plastered to the front of my body either. Especially when she reaches down and tries to squeeze my dick. Jerking out of her reach, I grab both her wrists in one hand. “Sophie, you’re drunk.” “I know. But you’re hot. I’m hot—” I cut that nonsense off right away. “Sophie, you’re one of Hope’s best friends.” She makes this mmmmmm noise. “Hope’s a good girl, Rock. I’m a dirty girl. I know you like dirty girls better.” Jesus Christ, this is going to shit fast. For the first time in a long time, I don’t know what to do. I’m used to drunken scenes like this at the clubhouse. But that’s my domain, and I can handle it my way. Here, I don’t know what the fuck to do. If it was some random woman, I’d brush her off and walk away. But it’s Hope’s best friend, so I’m torn. Part of me wants to help her find Ross, and part of me wants to strangle her. “Come on, let’s go find Ross,” I say, giving her a tug toward the party. I wish it wasn’t so fucking isolated back here. Is it too much to ask for someone to interrupt this cozy little nightmare? “I don’t wanna,” she answers, sounding all of five years old. “Kiss me.” Thankfully she’s so short, even in her heels she can’t reach my face, although she makes a drunken effort to climb my body. Pushing her off me and finally untangling myself, I decide to get the fuck away from Sophie. Yeah, I feel bad about it, but every second I let this go on, the potential for Hope to get hurt increases. As soon as I reach the guys, I tap Ross. “Sophie’s back by the bathroom in a bad way.” “Aw, shit. Thanks, man.” He pats me on the shoulder and takes off after Sophie. At least that’s taken care of and she’s not alone. Hope spots me and flashes a smile before turning back to her conversation. Fuck. I don’t know what the fuck to do. Do I tell Hope and risk blowing up her friendship with Sophie, who might not even remember what happened tomorrow? I’m not worried about myself—I sure as fuck didn’t do anything wrong. What I am worried about is my girl getting hurt. Up until now, Sophie’s always been a good friend to Hope. I don’t want to be the one who ruins their relationship. As if she hears my worried thoughts, Hope presses against my side. “How are you?” Wrapping my arm around her waist, I hug her tight to me. I think she mistakes the gesture for something else. Throaty laughter bubbles out of her and she gives

me that look. The one that says she wants to jump my bones but is too shy to make the first move. Suddenly the last thing I’m thinking about is Sophie’s drama.

The urge to tug Rock into a dark corner and wrap my body around him throbbed through me all evening. Only the fact that we were socializing with my colleagues kept my hands and legs to myself. Opening my front door earlier to find him in a suit and a smile set my body buzzing. I found Rock hard to resist on a regular basis, but there was something about my big, bad “I don’t wear suits” biker decked out in a classic, charcoal gray, wool blend. The crisp, white shirt and royal blue tie emphasized his slate eyes. The simple cut of the jacket stretched across his broad shoulders impeccably, accentuating his powerful build. I wondered where he’d found the time to have something so expertly tailored to him this week. I’m not sure what I expected him to wear, but this surpasses anything my imagination conjured up. Every inch of him radiates power. When we finally say our goodbyes, Rock takes my arm to keep me steady. The two small glasses of wine went straight to my head, and he seems to sense it. As we stand on the sidewalk outside waiting for his SUV, I tug on his sleeve. Stretching up on my toes so I can whisper in his ear, I ask, “Have I told you how sexy you look tonight?” I punctuate the compliment by flicking my tongue over his earlobe. I’m close enough to feel the shudder that works through him. “Careful, counselor.” He leans down and brushes his lips against my cheek. A warm shiver works down my neck, stirring up memories of his sinful mouth on other parts of my body. My arms encircle his neck, fingers lacing together to pull him to me. Then the valet drives up with the car, spoiling my fun. Amusement sparks in his gray eyes. “Get your sexy ass in the car, Baby Doll. I’ve got plans for you.”

WE DON’T GET FAR before Rock pulls over. Reaching below, he sends his seat all the way back. “Come here.” I eye his lap, the distance to get over there, and then assess the constraints of

my dress. “I don’t think I can.” “Hike that skirt up and haul your sweet little ass over here. Don’t make me ask again.” The next moment, he tugs me across his lap. Firm lips on mine, kissing me. Breathing in his scent makes me a little giddy. I kiss him back as if I’ll go crazy if I don’t get enough. His hands slide over my thighs, pushing my skirt up so I can straddle him. Weaving his fingers through my hair, he tilts my head back and kisses my neck. His lips move up to my chin and then our mouths slide together. “What do you want, Rock?” His lips travel down, soft sucking kisses and licks trailing along my neck and over my collarbone. “I want my cock in your pussy, fucking you so damn deep, baby.” “Right now?” “Right fucking now.” I draw back to see his eyes. Even in the dark interior, his hunger for me is obvious. My hands run down his chest, over the dress shirt hiding hard muscles. His hand catches my wrist. “No time, Baby Doll. Quick and dirty.” My fingers move down to work his belt and slide down his zipper. His hands cup my face, lips press hard against mine. I reach in to free his cock and he groans, a sexy erotic sound that vibrates against my jaw. He’s hard and hot in my hands as I slide my fist up and down his length. “Fuck, Hope. You’re killing me.” A devious little laugh I didn’t even know I was capable of escapes me. Rock’s hands grip my thighs, sliding under the edges of my dress until his thumbs brush against my panties. “Soaked, baby,” he breathes out. “Yes. All night. Because you’re so fucking sexy, Rochlan.” “Christ,” he mutters. Thick fingers tease my panties aside and push inside me. I can’t help clenching around him. Headlights sweep through the tinted glass, illuminating us for a split second. My cheeks heat at the possibility of getting caught like two horny teenagers with no place to fuck but their car. Rock’s thumb caresses my cheek. “You’re two seconds from sinking onto my cock, but you’re embarrassed that a car drove by? You’re too cute.” My panties are wrenched even more to the side as I raise myself over him. Desperate to have him inside me, I place my hands on his broad shoulders for balance. His hands close over my hips, guiding me, lifting his hips to meet me. “Good fucking girl,” he moans as I lower myself. I wait a second. No matter how many times we do this, I need that second to adjust to the exquisite intrusion of being stretched and filled by him. I suck in a deep breath and take him the rest of the way. “Oh, Rock. That’s so

good. So good like this.” We’re so close, cocooned in the confined space of the driver’s seat. My legs awkwardly nestled on either side of him. None of it matters. A breathless cry works out of my throat. His hands squeeze my hips and I shift up, then down. “That’s my good girl. Take all of me.” A whimper. Soft wet sounds. Breathy sighs. All of it beautiful music surrounding us. Leaning forward, I tuck myself against the curve of his shoulder, my lips finding his neck. Beneath me, his hips roll. His arms band around my waist, holding me tight as we rock together. It doesn’t take long for me to tighten, shake, tense, and burst apart. Soft waves of pleasure radiate through me until I’m boneless. Rock gives me a second to catch my breath. “So fucking beautiful. Get ready now.” I tighten my arms around his neck and hold on while he pounds his hips up into me. His arms hold me tight, yanking me down to meet each hard thrust. He shakes and snarls as his orgasm tears through him. Still clinging to his neck, I brush my lips against his forehead, his cheeks, and finally his lips. We stay close, trading soft kisses for a while. Rock brushes escaped bits of hair off my forehead, studying my face. Carefully, I lift off him and basically throw myself into the passenger seat. My legs are nothing but jelly, unable to support me for long. After straightening himself, he reaches over and seatbelts me in, then takes us home.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

F or weeks I’ve heard whispers at the clubhouse about this fight Wrath is in. It doesn’t surprise me that he boxes or wrestles or whatever he does. What surprises me is that Rock asked me if I wanted to go, and I said yes. I’m curious. Although, now that we’re here, I get the idea that this isn’t some nice, neat regulated event we’re attending. Casting a suspicious glance around the run-down parking lot, I dismount from Rock’s bike and hand over my helmet. “Are we even allowed to be here?” He’s too busy chuckling and shaking his head to answer my question. Why on earth had I agreed to come along? “You’re sure we’re not going to get mugged?” Teller, Murphy, and Z pull up next to Rock, drowning out my words. Rock secures everything and takes my hand. As the only woman in our little group, I’m feeling very out of place. I’d been informed earlier this was a “no colors” event, so the guys are wearing plain long-sleeved T-shirts. I, however, am wearing a blue shirt with just the Lost Kings design on the front. On the back, conveniently placed just above my ass, Lost Kings MC is spelled out in gray letters. I’m not sure what to make of it. Part of me is insulted. Part of me is insanely turned on and wants to find a dark corner where I can have Rock to myself for a few minutes. I tug at the hem of the T-shirt. “You said colors weren’t allowed. You sure this is okay? I’m not going to get assaulted or something, am I?” The guys circle around me. Z pops his sunglasses on top of his head, and with a straight face says, “I’ll kill anyone who dares fuck with you, Hope.” The way he says it, I’m not sure if that’s comforting or terrifying. Rock puts his arm around my waist. “Baby, you’re repping your man’s club and showing your support for Wrath. That’s allowed.” Rock pats Z’s shoulder as a “thank you,” I guess. “T, you got…?” He rubs his thumb and middle finger together in the universal

sign for “cash.” Teller pats the chest of his plain, black leather jacket. I assume that’s a yes. “Stick close, Hope. Do not leave my side for any reason. If Z or any of the guys tell you to move, you move.” “Rochlan, you’re scaring me.” He smiles at the way I use his full first name. “Baby doll, I’d probably be telling you the same thing if I was taking you to a Patriots game and you were wearing a Giants jersey. No need to be scared.” What the hell does that mean? Rock takes my left hand. Z walks just a few steps ahead of us. Teller walks to my right, so close he might as well hold my other hand. Murphy is directly behind us as we cross the rundown parking lot. Saying the old cement factory down by the river has seen better days is an understatement. We walk through weeds and slip through a broken, chain-link fence. With the area cut off by miles of the silver barrier, there is no way anyone could have parked closer. I spot other people appearing out of the dark and trickling into the building. When we stop and enter the line to get in, I brace myself against Rock and stand on tiptoes. “Is Wrath going to be pissed I’m here?” Rock stops scanning the crowd long enough to answer my question. “No, Baby Doll. Why would you even think that?” No other women associated with his club are here. That’s why. In fact, looking around, I spot very few women at all. The ones I do see are tarted up in skirts that barely cover their ass cheeks. Most stumble over the uneven ground in their stilettos and have to stop every few seconds to hike up their halter tops. Each one has a logo somewhere on their body that I assume means they are here in support of a rival club. Everything he’s told me about their “rivals” scares the pants off me. I shuffle in my Vans slip-ons, relieved Rock warned me to dress comfortably. His exact words were “for ease of movement,” whatever that meant. We get wanded as we pass through the door. The guy wielding the wand lingers a little too long on my chest, and Rock gives him a hard stare. The guy doesn’t seem very thorough, so I’m not exactly convinced the place is weapons-free. Once we’re inside, the place is an unimpressive, wide-open, concrete space. There are high school gym style bleachers on one side and a crudely constructed ring in the center of the room. No extra pieces of furniture, chairs, nothing. Rock flicks his wrist, and Teller hurries over to a window and talks into a hole in the glass. With the glare, I can’t see who it is. I turn and scan the crowd. A lot of rough-looking guys. No one is smiling. Everyone seems tense and edgy. I’m completely freaked out. Everything about this situation is telling me to run. I don’t belong. I swear my curiosity will be the death of me. But I trust Rock to keep me safe.

Z stands rigid, peering into the crowd. I look in the same direction and see Trinity wading through the sea of people to get to us. I’m overjoyed to see her. I take a step toward her, but Rock pulls me back. He thrusts his chin at Z who launches himself into the crowd to grab Trinity and bring her to us. I shake off Rock’s hand and give her a hug. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.” Her mouth curves up in a nervous smile. She’s dressed almost the same as me, except her club shirt has skinny little straps holding it up instead of actual sleeves. Her breasts are spilling out of the top, and the beautiful ink decorating her shoulder is on display. “How’s our boy?” Z asks her. “Cold as ice,” she answers. Rock pulls her to his side and puts his arm around her shoulders. “He’ll be fine. He’s always like that before a fight. That’s why we’re out here.” I peer over at her. She’s nervous. For Wrath? Teller jogs over, waving a bunch of slips of paper at us. He hands one to everyone, including me. Not sure what to do with it, I wait. Everyone shoves them in their pockets, so I do the same. Finally figuring out what we’re all doing—yes, I’m slow—I blurt out, “Why would anyone bet against Wrath? He’s the scariest guy I’ve ever met.” Z looks insulted, but everyone else except Trinity laughs. We take seats at the bottom of the bleachers. The very front row. It doesn’t escape my notice that we are positioned next to the closest exit or that Z and Rock have deliberately sandwiched me between them. I have to lean forward and over Z’s lap if I want to talk to Trinity. Rock jerks his head, and Z switches places with Trinity so we can talk. Except she’s oddly quiet. “You okay?” Her lip quivers. “Yeah, just nervous.” She’s absently picking at her nails, sending little chips of polish flying all over the place. I cover her hands with one of mine and squeeze. She wraps her fingers around mine, and we sit holding hands. Rock leans down and grazes my ear with his lips. “Thanks, Baby Doll.” I turn and catch him for a quick kiss. With a smile, he explains Wrath’s fight will go last. Answering my earlier question about people betting against him, he tells me in a low voice, “People think he’s too old to fight. And they always make the mistake of thinking because he’s so big, he must be slow.” “Old? Isn’t he younger than you?” That gets a wry smile out of Rock. “Yeah, but for an underground fighter, it’s old.” “Okay. Still, though, this seems like a lot of people.” “He hasn’t had a fight in a couple of months. Plus, tonight there’s more than

one fight, so that’s why it’s so packed and frenzied. People want to see if the big guy is finally going to take a fall.” “Finally?” “He’s never lost an underground fight.” “Yet they still bet against him?” Rock shrugs. Z leans over Trinity and taps my leg. “Unlike most of these guys, Wrath has no interest in getting an MMA deal or something. He just enjoys unleashing his fury on people,” he jokes like this is all completely normal. Trinity looks like she’s going to be sick. I wrap my arm around her and rub her back for a second. The first fight is unimpressive. A twenty-nine year-old guy, in reasonably good shape, stomps a pudgy kid in under a minute. I lean against Rock. “What are the rules?” He shrugs. “Survival of the fittest?” Boos and shouts echo in the large space. The crowd is pissed. Not enough bloodshed, I guess. The second fight is a little more action-packed. The winner, a short, stocky kid with red hair, wraps things up early by choking his opponent out at the end of the first round. The loser has to be carried out of the ring. The bloodthirsty crowd roars when the unconscious kid gets taken into a back room. A sharp, bleating horn cuts through the noise, settling the crowd down. The man in the center of the ring holds a megaphone up to his lips. “Five minutes ‘til the blood bath you’ve all been waiting for. Get those bets placed now. Windows close when the opponents reach the ring.” There’s a frenzy of pushing and shoving to get over to the windows. My heart thumps a little faster. The energy level in the place has definitely amped up and twisted into something dangerous. This crowd is intent on two things: blood and money. I’m worried our chances of leaving in one piece are getting worse by the minute. If Wrath wins, are all the people who lost money going to come after us? The shouting and shoving has risen to a deadly pitch. “You sure we’re okay?” I ask Rock. “We’re good, Baby Doll.” He looks as still and calm as always. Even so, I can’t relax. I squeeze Trinity’s hand, and she gives me a grateful smile. It doesn’t take long for that piercing bleat to silence the room again. “Tonight we have a meeting of old and young. Our new challenger has been fighting professional MMA for just over seven months. This is his first time in the dirty underground, so let’s give the Irish Storm some encouragement, folks!” I tug on Rock’s sleeve. “Why is he going up against a professional?” “Babe, trust me. It will be fine.”

The crowd goes wild when “Irish” enters the ring. Boos, whistles, and cheers fill the room. Our little group remains silent. Irish Storm wears a serious expression as he bounces up and down, then scans the crowd. Wrath’s opponent has the big and scary thing down pat, but he’s nowhere near as terrifying as Wrath. “Our next fighter scares the shit out of even me. Undefeated in the underground, he doesn’t come out of hibernation often, but when he does, it’s scary as fuck! Hope you were careful placing your bets because they say the last thing to grow old in a man is Wrath!” As introductions go, it lacks the fire I expected. But the crowd eats it up. The volume inside the room explodes. I don’t think as many people have bet against Wrath as we think. He’s the only one tonight who has music playing when he walks out. I recognize the song as “The Way of the Fist,” and I snort with laughter. “That’s an appropriate song choice.” Rock looks at me like he’s surprised I know it, but he forgets I spent three years of law school chasing Sophie around heavy metal shows on the weekends. Wrath strolls into the room as if he’s stepping into his favorite bar. Casual, like he does this every night of the week. Shirtless, his bulky muscles ripple under his tattooed skin. He’s wearing those low slung, shiny athletic shorts I’ve always found rather sexy, and I see even his legs are covered in ink. As he turns full circle, I spot WRATH tattooed in bold, black, contoured letters across his shoulders. A Lost Kings tattoo, similar to the one that brands Rock’s skin, is situated below. I figure he’s had the Wrath tat longer than he’s been in the MC. As he turns our way, Z leans over and whispers into Trinny’s ear. We’re sitting close enough that I catch the scowl on Wrath’s face. “Knock it off, Zero,” Rock warns. “What? Just making sure—” “You’re wrong.” Trinity cuts him off. “Yeah, that why you been up in his bed every night for the last two weeks?” In a lower voice that I don’t think I was meant to hear, he says to her, “I don’t remember you ever spending an entire night with me.” She grits her teeth. “Shut. Up.” “Don’t break his concentration, Z,” I snap at him, surprising myself. Z gives me an amused look—thankfully he doesn’t seem to be offended. Although he might be trying to rile Wrath, he’s also upsetting Trinity. And let’s face it, I may not like Wrath all that much, but I don’t want to see him get hurt either. Some sort of bell sounds, and we turn our attention to the ring. The fighters knock knuckles, and then it’s game on. I’m not sure what I expected, but it’s both stunning and ghastly. Irish rushes around the ring with an abundance of energy. He shuffles from foot

to foot, darts back and forth. After a few exploratory jabs where he catches nothing but air, he backs up. Wrath is surprisingly quick. I also get the impression he’s toying with his opponent. When Wrath finally attacks, I get a visual representation on the true meaning of violence. The crowd explodes. People rush to get to the ring. We can’t see, so Trinity and I hop up on the bleachers. Wrath is beautifully brutal. He lands punch after punch until blood pours from the kid’s nose. Irish ducks and tries for Wrath’s legs, to take him to the ground. What a mistake, though, because Wrath rams his knee in his opponent’s face and lights into him with his fists again. Last, he crashes his elbow into the center of Irish’s nose, and the kid crumples to the ground. There’s blood everywhere, and without thinking, a scream tears out of me. Rock wraps his hands around my waist and plucks me off the bench. “Stop screaming,” he shouts. “Is he dead? Did Wrath kill him?” “Probably not,” Rock answers in a much more normal tone of voice. “Probably?” “They know what they’re signing up for, Hope.” The fight is called in Wrath’s favor, and almost instantly, we’re pushed around with the movement of the crowd. People are yelling and rushing toward the window to get their cash. Teller collects our slips and takes off, Murphy right behind him. “Prez, we gotta get out of here,” Z says in a low, urgent tone. Trinity and I are mashed up between Rock and Z as they keep us protected from the crowd. I peek around Rock and sigh in relief when I see Wrath coming at us. His bare chest is covered in sweat and blood, but he’s muscling into a T-shirt as he approaches. His jeans are unbuttoned, shiny gym shorts sticking out, boots unlaced, and a backpack slung over one shoulder. Trinity wriggles out from under Z and runs right into Wrath. “Whoa, I’m fine.” He wraps her up in a hug and kisses the top of her head. Even with all the chaos around, the three of us stop to stare. “Wrath, we gotta go,” Z warns. He looks up and nods once, then slips a skull cap over his bright blond hair. As a unit, we all move toward one of the side exits. The wash of cold air is a relief. Teller and Murphy are standing tight against the outside wall, waiting for us. Wrath has hold of Trinity’s hand now, and she seems to have calmed down. “I’m in a spot around the back,” he informs Rock. “Fuck. We’re in the lot over.” “We’ll meet up at the gas station at the bottom of the hill.” Everyone agrees, and we part ways. “What’s wrong, Rock?” I ask as I try to keep up the fast pace the guys have set. He slides his arm around my shoulders and tugs me close. “Just don’t want to be

here when things get rowdy. Some people lost a lot of money.” Once we slip through the fence, the five of us break into a sprint across the parking lot. All around us, the sounds of cars and bikes are coming to life. Rock tosses a plain black hoodie at me. After I slip it on, he thrusts my helmet into my hands. We take off at a normal pace with Z in front of us. Normally, I would rest my head against Rock and close my eyes. But tonight is not a joyride. I feel like I should be alert and aware of what’s going on around us, if it’s at all possible. We don’t stop at the gas station. Wrath sees us coming and joins us. He takes over the front position, and Z falls behind. Once we’re clear of the Ironworks city limits, I feel better. We’re taking the long way back to Empire, and it’s all winding, deserted county roads. I start to relax and even slide my hands under Rock’s shirt to rest them against his rippling muscles. Suddenly, Teller appears on our left, wearing a severe expression as he tries to signal to Rock. I turn slightly to see what’s got him spooked. A dark SUV is barreling down on us. Z is weaving back and forth to keep the truck away. Murphy is coming up on our other side. “Rock!” “Hang on.” He motions Teller and Murphy to get up alongside Wrath. We’re traveling a lot faster than Rock’s ever taken me, and as I look at the drop off along the side of the road, I’m terrified we’re not going to make it out of this. The SUV is so close I hear the engine straining. I’m frightened something has happened to Z. Rock’s trying to slow the bike down, but the SUV keeps pace and keeps pushing us to the right. The cliff isn’t as steep here, but it’s still a fucking hill not meant for two-wheel travel. Which one is more likely to kill us? Being squished by two tons of steel or flying down the slope into a tree? Neither option appeals to me. “Hold on as long as you can!” Rock shouts. I guess that means he’s considered our options and chosen plan B. As the wheels edge off the pavement, the bike jerks, and I struggle to stay upright. We’re bouncing down the hillside a lot faster than feels comfortable. Near the bottom, we collide with a downed tree, throwing us both clear of the bike. I land hard in the grass. My palms sting from bits of gravel that have migrated down the hill over the years. My right side is in agony. Slowly I inventory my body parts. Legs, feet, arms, hands. Check, check, check. Ouch. My hands are a bloody mess. And whoever pushed us off the road isn’t done with us. Bullets whiz wildly down the hill. I can just barely see the lights from the SUV stopped on the side of the road. I don’t see Rock anywhere. I start crawling on the ground until I reach the bike. On the other side of the log, I spot Rock. “Hope?”

I hurry to his side in a crouch. “Are you okay?” My hands fly over his body, checking for injuries. “Thank God. Are you hurt, baby?” he rasps. After the spectacular fall we took, I don’t think the few scrapes on my palms count as being injured. “No.” Trinity comes out of nowhere. Her face is streaked with mud, and tears are running down her face. Rock is instantly alert. “Where is he, Trinny?” “This way.” She points behind her. “He’s not moving, Rock. It’s bad.” Someone above is returning fire, and the bullets have stopped flying our way. For now. Trinity and I rush to follow Rock. He turns and hands me a gun. A fucking gun. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? I slip it into the pocket of my hoodie and pray I don’t accidentally shoot my boob off. When we reach Wrath, he’s groaning, and Trinity bursts into tears again. “Stay quiet, man,” Rock says as he puts a hand on Wrath’s chest. Rock has another gun in his hand. Where the fuck has he been hiding this arsenal? “Hope, what did you do with the gun?” “It’s in my pocket.” He looks about ready to throttle me, and I feel completely useless. “Give it to Trinity.” I hand it over, and she checks it like a badass. “Stay with him,” Rock says to both of us. Trinity looks down at Wrath once more, and then she’s on alert. Wrath starts moaning, and I grab his hand. “Shh, honey, it’s okay,” I soothe. “My leg,” he groans. I run the back of my hand over his cheek and forehead, and it comes away soaked with blood. More gunshots. Trinity is completely still and aware. “Trin?” “Right here, Wyatt,” she answers without looking down at us. He struggles to get up, but I stop him with a hand against his chest. “Wrath, don’t. You could have something broken. Plus, there’s still guys shooting at us.” He croaks out, “Prez?” “He’s okay.” Thankfully, Wrath seems to be coming around. He realizes I’m holding his hand, and he squeezes it tight. “It’s going to be okay, Hope.” The guy with the broken leg reassures me. Good grief. He opens his eyes and looks up at me with concern. “This is why I been tryin’ to push you away, Cinderella. So you don’t get hurt.”

Tears cloud my vision. “Wrath,” I sigh. His eyes drift shut. I check him over for other injuries, and he sucks in a painful breath when I get to his left leg. “I think it’s broken.” He grunts and opens his eyes again. “No shit.” I don’t have a lot of light to inspect the damage to his head, but I try to locate the cut. It’s not as bad as I feared, but still bleeding a lot. “Ow, fuck. Watch it,” he growls. He grabs my hand again, holding me still. “I don’t know what to do,” I cry miserably. “Just keep holding my hand. My leg really fucking hurts.” “Okay.” It’s quiet up above now. A shiver works over Wrath, and I whip off my sweatshirt, covering as much of his torso as I can with it. I rub my hand over his chest, trying to keep him warm. Tires squeal, and it sounds like the SUV is getting the hell out of there. A few seconds later, two bikes roar to life and take off as well. The snapping of twigs and crunch of gravel announces someone is coming. “Trin, it’s me and Z—don’t shoot,” Rock’s voice comes out of the darkness. She makes a clicking noise with the gun and shoves it in the back of her pants. I’m still holding Wrath’s hand and running my other hand over him, but I think he passed out. “You girls okay?” Z asks. I’m watching to make sure Wrath is still breathing, so I only nod. Rock kneels down beside me and puts his hand on my arm. “Honey, you’re shivering.” “Afraid he’s going into shock. He needs an ambulance bad.” My voice comes out all quivery. “A driver stopped. He’s calling 911. That’s what finally chased those fuckers off.” “His leg, Rock. And his head.” He takes out his cell phone. The shattered screen still provides enough light for Rock to shine it over Wrath’s head to check the cut. “Get that outta my face,” Wrath grumbles. “Well, his personality is fine,” Z jokes. “Fuck off.” Finally, sirens pierce the air. Z takes off to meet the ambulance and explain where we’re located. Trinity kneels next to Wrath and takes his other hand. He finally opens an eye. “You okay?” “Yeah,” she answers softly. His eyes close, and a shiver works over him. “I’m really fucking cold, guys,” he grits out. I shoot a worried glance at Rock, and he shrugs off his jacket, laying it over

Wrath’s chest. Trinity does the same. “That better?” He doesn’t answer this time, and tears start dropping down Trinity’s cheeks.

A helicopter had to be called in to lift Wrath out and take him to the nearest hospital. The rest of us got to ride in either an ambulance or cop car. You can guess which one I ended up in. No matter how many times I explained to the two useless pigs that we’d been run off the road, they kept insisting something else happened. I had no idea what actually happened or who those fuckers were. Was I going to tell the cops it probably had to do with the underground fight we just left? Fuck, no. But I gave them the rest of the information, so at least it seemed like I wanted to be cooperative. Finally they let me go find Hope. My girl did amazing. Atomic rage fills me at the thought that she could have died tonight because of me. She never would have been in this situation otherwise. People didn’t try to run her off the road because she caused them to lose thousands of dollars on an illegal fight. No, that shit is part of my life, and it could have cost her hers. I’m sick with disgust. But she kept her cool. She didn’t panic when we went over the cliff. She listened to me. She did her best to keep Wrath safe and comfortable until we could get him help. I didn’t think I could love her more until I saw her kneeling on the ground beside my brother, holding his hand, talking to him softly, her sweatshirt looking like a baby blanket on his big chest. The hospital doesn’t want to let me see her because she’s not my wife. I get loud, and next thing I know, she’s flying out of one of the emergency room cubicles and into my arms. “Baby, you okay?” She winces when I hug her and her hands are bandaged, but other than that, she seems sound. I push all the awful things that could have happened out of my mind. Trinity is fine. They checked her over. Barely a scratch. Doesn’t surprise me. Girl is very resilient. Wrath is still out cold. It’s hours before they will let us see him, but no one is leaving. The rest of the

brothers filter in as the news spreads. Teller, Murphy, and Dex join me in a huddle. “What do we know?” Muphy asks. Teller looks into the hallway. “Z’s checking out some leads.” “Can’t be fucking Vipers. They would’ve straight-up shot us, not pulled that cowardly bullshit,” I mutter. “Better not be them. We had the all clear to be there,” Murphy reminds me. Not like it would matter to those honor-less fucks. The stupidity of my decision to bring Hope into this is close to crushing me. Z bumps my shoulder and pulls me into the hallway. With a shifty look up and down the open space and a low voice, he explains. “Looks like it was two assholes from Irish’s crew.” “Who the fuck is that?” “The kid Wrath fought? He fucked him up pretty good, so they were looking for payback.” “They could’ve fucking killed us! Over a goddamn fight their guy signed up for?” “Fuckin’ pussies.” It would have made more sense if it had been one of the other crews who lost money on Wrath. Fuck, it would have made sense if it had been some Vipers since we were in their territory—all clear or not—but this is fucking stupid and senseless. “Find out who they’re connected to. I want to know how much blowback there will be when we handle them.” “Prez—” “I’m fucking serious, Z. They want to fuck with us? Fine, but Hope and Trinity could have been hurt or killed.” I shake my head, still pissed with myself for bringing the girls. “No excuses for bringing the women into our shit.” “I know.” “Payback is a bitch.” “Fuck, yeah.” I give Z a manly slap on the shoulder. “I need you, man. Shit’s going bad all around us, and our enforcer is gonna be down for eight or more weeks. You gotta step up.” Z sends me a “fuck you” look, and I feel a little bad for how that came out. “You know what I mean. Membership is tight as it is. With Wrath down, it’s gonna be even harder.” We’re pulled out of our conversation when Trinity wanders into the hall, looking more lost than I’ve seen her in years. I hold out my hand and she drifts over, letting me hug her to my side. “Babe, I want you to go home and get some rest.” “I need to see him first.” Z and I share a glance. “I know. As soon as he’s awake, I’ll have one of the guys bring you back. Promise.”

After some cajoling, Z takes her home, and I go into the waiting room to find Hope standing and staring out the window. I nudge her with my shoulder, and the corners of her mouth lift in a weary smile. She settles down in the chair beside me and takes my hand. “You all right, Baby Doll?” “Yeah.” After what seems like many hours, a doctor finally comes in. “Wyatt Ramsey’s family?” I stand up. “I’m his brother.” I’m not getting blocked by some bullshit hospital rules again. He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother anyway, so it’s not a lie as far as I’m concerned. The doctor looks at each of us before pulling me into the hallway. I tug Hope along. Doc looks at her but doesn’t say anything. “Mr. Ramsey has a concussion. The cut on his temple wasn’t too severe. We stitched it, but we need to keep him a night or two for observation to make sure there’s nothing more serious like a cerebral hemorrhage. Now, his leg is a different story. He suffered a tibial shaft fracture. It’s a stable fracture, which is good. With this type of fracture, the bone is barely out of place. The broken ends of the bones basically line up correctly and are aligned.” He rubs his fists together in an imitation of what he’s trying to explain. Hope looks ready to barf. “He’s got a cast. It should be completely healed in four to six months if he listens to instructions,” the doc continues. I snort at that. He nods once as if he suspected Wrath might be an ornery dickhead. “He’s in very good shape, a healthy young man, so he should be closer to the four-month end. He’s also a large man, so it’s crucial he keeps his weight off the leg right now. In a few weeks, I’m going to recommend some sort of physical therapy, and he can probably use a cane or crutches in limited amounts of time. The fracture pain usually stops long before the bone is able to handle the stresses of his everyday activities, so it’s going to be important he doesn’t overdo it or it could fail to heal properly. Are there a lot of stairs at his house?” I think about his room at the clubhouse. Upstairs. Fuck. “Yeah.” I run through what other options are available. Trinity’s room downstairs. Boy, is she going to be pissed. Maybe I’ll set him up in my house, although I’d feel safer having him at the clubhouse. Double fuck. Hope’s house is a one story. No fucking way. “We’ll get it sorted out, doc. Thanks.” He turns his keen eyes on Hope. “Are you Trinity?” She blushes before answering. “No.” “Hope?” An even deeper flush stains her cheeks. “Yes.” “Good—he’s been asking for you too. If he’s still awake, you both can visit with

him for a few minutes.” Hope swings her questioning gaze in my direction, and I shrug. Poor bastard is probably delirious. I hesitate and wince when I see my brother in the hospital bed. The nurse told me they had to get him a special, larger-sized bed, but he still dwarfs it. We’ve been through a lot of scrapes and rough times together, but this is definitely the worst I’ve seen my indestructible best friend. As soon as he holds his hand out to her, Hope rushes to his side. I’m not sure how I feel about that. “Oh my gosh, they shaved all your beautiful hair off,” she fusses while gingerly touching his scalp. Wrath looks her over carefully. “You okay, sweetie?” He frowns at the bandages on her hands. Sweetie? The letters W, T, and F come to mind. “Some scrapes. Nothing. How are you?” “I feel like I got run over.” I step up. “You kinda did, brother.” “Where’s Trin? Is she okay?” “Yeah, I sent her home with one of the guys to get some rest.” His face settles into hard, angry lines. Whether it’s from pain or something I said, I’m not sure. “Who’d you send her home with?” Something I said. “Easy, brother. She’s on her way back now.” Wrath grunts at me and turns his attention to Hope, taking her hand again. “You sure you’re okay? That was some bad shit, sweetheart. Thank you for taking care of me like you did.” Her free hand flutters in the air. “I didn’t do anything useful. I froze. Trinity is the one who went all Tomb Raider on us.” Wrath huffs out a laugh, then scrunches up in pain. “Fuck. How long did doc say I’ll be down?” I don’t dick around and just give it to him straight. “Four to six months.” I can see he’s already prepared to fight, so I cut him off. “You’re going to follow every damn instruction. If you don’t, your leg will heal all fucked up and you’ll be a gimpy fuck the rest of your life. So six months is nothing to make sure you’re not walking in circles from now on.” He chuckles and settles back into the bed. “You gotta take my patch, don’t ya?” “Fuck, man. Why are you worried about that now? It’s not going anywhere. Z and the others will take care of shi—” “Can’t ride. You gotta take my cut, prez.” “Knock it off.” Hope seems to have checked out of the conversation, but for some unknown reason, she’s still holding the fucker’s hand and running her fingers up and down his arm. Mildly disgusted at how jealous I am of my girlfriend comforting my

mangled best friend, I wrack my brain for some good news to tell him. “We know who it was?” he asks before I can come up with a better topic of conversation. Hope looks at me with the very same question in her eyes. “Z has a lead on it. We’ll discuss it later.” “When they gonna let me out?” “A day or two. We gotta get you set up on the first floor somewhere—” “He can stay in my room,” Trinity says softly from the doorway. Wrath’s whole face lights the fuck up when he sees her. He holds out his empty hand. Still hanging onto my girl with the other hand, though. Greedy bastard. Trinity brushes by me. Except for pulling on her bottom lip with her teeth, she seems calm. “You’re such a big baby. Don’t you know how to drive your bike off a cliff by now?” His face breaks into a wide grin. Hope lets him go and gives him a pat on his uninjured leg before walking to my side. I tap Wrath’s hand once. “We’re gonna get going. Trin, you need a ride, call me.” Our departure barely registers for either of them. I stop in the waiting room to tell everyone else we’re leaving. Except we need a damn ride. “Who’s got a car?” Dex jumps up. “Take mine. I’ll catch a ride with Swan.” I catch his keys, take Hope’s hand, and get the fuck out of there.

HOPE IS SO quiet in the car, I’m worried about how she’s processing everything. “You okay?” “Just tired. I want to crawl into bed for like a week.” It hits me we haven’t discussed where we’re going. By some unspoken agreement, we never spend the night at her house together. My plan is to bring her home with me. I need to have her close. As if she hears my thoughts, she puts her hand over mine. “I’d like to go home. To my house,” she clarifies. This is not good. I’m not sure how to frame what I want to say. The thought of having her out of my sight for even a second is unacceptable. “Do you want to pick up some things and bring them to my house?” I’m not sure why, but I don’t think taking her to the MC is a good idea right now, even though it’s where she’d be safest. Once again, I find myself trying to tread lightly. Probably because I feel so fucking guilty about what happened. I wish I could see inside her head and know what she’s thinking. After a while, she answers. “No. I’d just like to sleep in my own bed. If you think it’s safe.” Her words have an edge to them that rattles me. She’s implying that I’ve put her life in danger. It infuriates me because it’s true. My temper is not going to

help, so I try like hell to simmer down. “Yeah. It’s safe.” I want her to ask me to stay with her. She needs to be the one to break our unspoken agreement. As much as I don’t relish the idea of sleeping in the bed she shared with her husband, I need to be with her. I need to wrap my body around hers and reassure myself she’s okay. But she just stares out the window and doesn’t say anything. By the time we reach her house, I’m halfway to a caveman meltdown. Along the way, we discussed superficial things like Wrath’s recovery. How long he’ll have to wear a cast. If he’s really going to be able to sit still for sixteen weeks. She knows a good physical therapist and is going to get me the name. Shit like that. Nothing about us. As soon as I pull into the driveway, my phone goes off. Hope sighs and waits for me to take the call. Z has tracked down the two fuckers from last night. My blood goes from simmer to boil in a second. “I’ll be there in half an hour.” I turn and search Hope’s eyes but don’t see what I’m looking for or what I expect. No love. Not even fear. She’s resigned. She’s slipping out of my grasp even though she’s a mere five inches away. She leans over and puts her palm against my cheek. Her soft lips press against mine, not nearly long enough. “Be careful,” she whispers. She lets herself out and stares at me through the open window. Fuck, it’s killing me to leave her now. But I don’t have a choice. “Get some rest, I’ll call you later.” She nods once, turns, and goes in the house. This is so fucked.

CHAPTER TWELVE

E very part of my body hurts. But nothing compares to the pain in my heart when I

go in the house by myself. The horror of last night keeps playing over and over in my head. Taking a hot shower doesn’t make a dent in my aches, especially since I had to put plastic baggies over my hands to keep my stupid bandages dry. I crawl into bed, and all I can think about is how much worse things could have been. It’s selfish, but I think about what might have happened if I’d broken my leg. What if Rock had broken his back or been killed? So many horrible possibilities. I lost my dad when I was a teenager, and I’m already a thirty-three-year-old widow. I’m well aware of how fragile life is. Someone deliberately ran us off the road. As a direct result of my involvement with Rock and his club, I’d almost been killed. What’s happened to me? How did I get here? What am I doing? It hurts to admit, but I’m not cut out for their life of danger. I couldn’t even figure out how to use a stupid gun. It looks so damn easy on television. Trinity had to take it from me. I couldn’t remember even basic first aid to do a damn thing for Wrath. I’m useless. My lack of any practical life skills is probably a huge hindrance to Rock. No wonder his club brothers are so wary about letting me into the fold. What am I going to do? I’ve fallen so deep in love with him, so fast. Losing him will kill me, but I need to start preparing myself for the inevitable. Rock’s indifference on the drive here hurt like hellfire. He’s probably pissed for getting involved with someone weak like me. I wanted to invite him in, but it was clear he had other places to be. I roll over and curl into Clay’s pillows. His scent is long gone, but it still comforts me knowing he used to sleep on them. I pray like hell he’s not watching over me. He’d probably be ashamed of me. “I’m sorry I’m such a fuck-up, baby. I miss you so bad,” I whisper before crying myself to sleep.

The fuckers who ran us off the road are almost too easy to find. Two punk-ass little bitches, too stupid to realize who they had fucked with. At first they seem to be under the impression it was nothing more than a prank. Considering how bad my brother is hurt and how badly the people I care about could have been hurt, I don’t share their amusement. They are not laughing when Z and I leave. Payback is a bitch indeed. Whether they make it to the hospital or not doesn’t concern me a whip. Going to see Hope in this condition seems like a bad idea. I stop at my house to clean up, grab a quick nap, and then head back to the hospital. Teller, Murphy, and Heidi are in the waiting room when I get there. “That big bastard awake?” I ask as I take a seat next to Teller. Murphy snorts. “Trin’s in there with him. It looked a little intense, so we left.” Heidi’s tuned into our conversation, so I don’t voice the questions I want to ask. Instead, I grunt and pick up a magazine. “Where’s Hope?” Heidi asks. Goddammit. “Home.” I’m short so the nosy little snot will take a hint. “Is she coming here?” Of course, sixteen-year-old girls don’t take hints. “I don’t know.” “She’s kind of family now, isn’t she? Shouldn’t she be here?” “Dammit, Heidi, would you leave him alone?” Murphy scolds her. His words send her into a snit, and she takes off. Christ. Deciding Wrath and Trinity have had enough time to do whatever the fuck they’re doing, I stomp into his room. She’s curled up on the bed with him, his arm wrapped around her middle. They’re murmuring to each other, and he’s playing with her hair. I would have been less surprised to find them actually fucking. I paste on my favorite shit-stirring grin, enjoying the fuck out of this. “Well, hello, kids!” “Shit, fuck, damn!” Trinity scrambles out of the bed. “Ow, fuck, Trin,” Wrath growls, leaning down to rub his fucked-up leg. “Sorry, sorry.” She whips her head in my direction, eyes pleading with me not to tease her.

I don’t have it in me to mess with Trinity. “Uh, I’m gonna go.” She scurries out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I just can’t keep this shit-eating grin off my face. “Knock it off, dick,” Wrath says as he settles back down into the bed. “Sorry I interrupted cuddle time.” “Fuck you.” We glare at each other for a few minutes. Wrath rolls his eyes first. “You come here to tell me anything useful? Maybe bring me something?” “What the hell do you want, balloons and flowers?” “A fucking magazine would be nice. I’m bored as fuck.” I jerk my thumb toward the door. “Didn’t look bored a minute ago.” Wrath clenches and releases his hands. Is he thinking of hitting me? Wouldn’t be the first time. “Did Hope come with you?” Well, fuck, if that isn’t enough to wipe the smile clean off my face. “No.” “She okay?” “I dunno. She’s. . .” Do I want to spill all her baggage to him? “You don’t realize she lost her dad when she was a teenager. Lost her husband young. I think this rattled her.” “Oh, fuck. I didn’t know about her dad. That’s rough.” “Yeah, and her mom went to shit after, so she basically got abandoned there.” “Okay. Got it.” I rub the back of my neck. “I’m afraid this brought up bad shit for her.” I’m not sure how much I want to share about my concerns. Although, since the accident, Wrath seems sweet on Hope, he wasn’t exactly her biggest cheerleader before, and I don’t want to dredge that shit back up. Fuck it. “I’m worried she’s not dealing with it well.” “Not surprising. After getting through that other shit, sounds like she lived a pretty normal life ‘til you barged in.” “Thanks.” “I’m not trying to be a dick. I just don’t know how you think it’s going to work out between the two of you.” “This wasn’t exactly normal.” “You know what I mean. Look, I get it, she’s a total sweetheart. Treats everyone with respect. She’s not stuck up. I like how nice she is to Trinity. Hell, I like her. But I think soon, she’s going to start dividing your focus. You can’t be half in, half out as our President.” “You want the gavel?” “Fuck, no, that’s not what I’m trying to say. But she doesn’t get what we’re about—at all. She’s too clean for our life. I’ve tried explaining shit to her, and it

goes in one ear and out the other. Don’t drag her into it anymore. It’s not fair to her.” “What exactly did you try to explain to her?” “We are outlaws. She acts like it’s a bedtime story that has nothing to do with you two.” “How many times have I told you to leave that shit to me? I’ll tell her things when I think she’s ready to hear them.” “Yeah, but by then she’ll be so deep in our shit, she’ll blow the MC to hell trying to escape.” Fuck. “Rock. You think she’s going to fall so far in love with you she’s going to overlook the fact that we’re up to our balls in illegal shit?” Yes. Because I’m so fucking in love with her that I don’t care if she fits into my world or not. I’ll find a way to make this work, because there is no other option. My lack of an answer has Wrath shaking his head.

One day, and no word from Rock. I’ve been dumped. I feel it in my gut. Except maybe something happened to him? We were, after all, run off the road and shot at the other night. Somehow, I’d conveniently forgotten that. I miss him so bad, but I refuse to call him first. I’m too embarrassed. What I do instead is almost worse. I decide to go visit Wrath. I really do want to see him and make sure he’s okay. But I won’t lie—a tiny part of me wants to run into Rock. I hate the idea of visiting anyone in the hospital empty-handed. What the hell does a big scary biker/fighter who’s probably bored to death want? Besides a piece of ass. Food? Hospital food is awful and probably not enough for a guy his size. I stop at Five Guys and grab two cheeseburgers and a large order of their freshcut fries. Running into the bookstore, I grab the first magazine I see with a motorcycle and a half-naked chick on the cover. Even though I secretly hope to run into Rock, I avoid the waiting room and go straight to Wrath’s room. After a few taps on the door, I hear him call out for me to enter. He’s alone.

I’m relieved, yet also disappointed. His face registers a whole lot of surprise when he sees me. “Hey, sweetheart, what are you doing here? You just missed Rock.” “Oh.” I hesitate, feeling a little foolish. “Whatcha got? You bring me real food?” He holds his hands out, clawing his fists into a gimmie, gimmie gesture that makes me break into a smile. As I hand him the bag, his eyes widen in delight. “Oh, fuck, yeah.” He spills all the food out onto the wheely tray next to his bed and moans around a mouthful of French fries. “If things don’t work out with you and Rock, I may have to claim you myself.” I’m not sure how to respond, so I thrust the magazine at him. He chuckles at the busty redhead on the cover. “Thank you. I’ve been bored shitless.” “I figured you might be. Also figured they probably weren’t feeding you enough.” “Damn right.” “Shoot, I forgot to grab a drink. You want—” He shakes his head, cutting me off, and points to a small refrigerator in the corner. “Will you grab me a ginger ale from there, babe?” “Sure.” When I return to him, he’s eyeing me up and down. It dawns on me he probably ogled my ass the entire time I was bent over digging out his soda. “Pig.” “Oink.” We’re standing there, kind of half-smiling at each other, when Rock walks in without knocking. I’ve missed him so much. This is ridiculous, but he’s fucking beautiful. My breath catches, and I stand there taking all of him in. Just beautiful. A scowl screws up his face. “Baby doll, what are you doing here?” His tone stabs me in the chest. But before I can come up with a response, Wrath jabs his index finger at me. “She brought me food and reading material.” He holds up the magazine and waves it at Rock. Rock’s scowl deepens. “Christ, you’re a baby.” “A baby with a full belly. Thank you, Hope.” He turns and smiles at me sweetly. Wow. If I’d known Wrath’s approval could be bought with some cheeseburgers, I would have gone that route a lot sooner.

Apparently I’ve wandered into some alternate universe where Hope and Wrath are pals. Fantastic. My girl brought him food and reading material. How fucking sweet is that? Especially when you consider he’s been a dick to her for about ninety-nine percent of the time they’ve known each other. Or did she do it expecting to run into me? God, I hope so. I’m confused about where we stand. Fuck, she’s got me twisted up—and not in the fun way this time. Except for the quick glance when I walked in, she keeps her head down. Her fingers are loosely tangled in Wrath’s hand. The fucker is eating up her attention with a shovel. I wish he wasn’t lying there all broken, because I’d really like to kick his ass. Zeroing in on their intertwined fingers sends a jolt of crazy burning through me. This is awkward as fuck. I hate that Wrath is here to witness it after our earlier talk. The urge to punch him in the face comes on strong. Then he surprises me by letting out a yawn worthy of a grizzly bear. Hope’s gaze swings to him, and she blushes. “Oh my gosh, you must be so tired. I’ll let you get some rest.” She leans over and gives him a peck on the cheek. Wrath flashes a crooked smile at me, and it’s a fight not to break his other damn leg. Jackass. “Thanks for the food, sweetheart.” “Get better, big guy.” Big guy. The fuck? Hope stops in front of me, eyes glued to the floor. I brush my hand over her arm, and she finally meets my gaze. Surprise, longing, and doubt play over her beautiful face I love so damn much. “We need to talk.” Every part of her goes soft, almost scared. “Okay.” We walk out to the parking lot without speaking. I don’t know what to say. Where to start. I’ve fought too hard, waited too long to have her. I’m not losing her or giving her up now. My bike is parked right against the brick building. Hope gives it a once-over. “It’s okay?”

“Yeah, few scratches. Nothing I can’t fix. Will you come home with me?” “No.” Fuck. “I mean, I’m not getting on that thing. I can’t. Yet. I’m sorry.” I reach out to run one finger gently across her cheek, brushing the hair off her face and over her shoulder. “Baby doll, it’s okay. Will you follow me home so we can talk, though?” “Say what you need to say here. There’s no reason to drag it out.” Confused, I stare at her until her meaning sinks in. “Drag what out? What’s going on inside your pretty head?” The little twitch at the corner of her mouth gives her away. Her breath hitches. Shit, is she holding back tears? I can’t stand seeing her so upset. Gathering her in my arms, I press her cheek to my chest and run my hands over her back. “Hope, talk to me.” “I’m so sorry. I’m not…” she drifts off and starts sobbing again. What the hell? “You’re not what, baby?” “I’m not cut out for this. You must be so disappointed.” Disappointed? “About what?” “Me. I had no clue. I was so scared. I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt.” She sucks in a breath and lets it out slow. “Or if I lost you.” She’s not making a lot of sense. “You’re not going to lose me, baby. I’m beyond sorry about what happened. It honestly had nothing to do with the club. But it’s still my fault. You know I wouldn’t put you in danger on purpose, right? I’d do anything to keep you safe.” I have done just about everything a man can do to keep his woman safe. I’m not sure if she absorbed any of that. She pulls away and wipes her face. “Let’s just say goodbye now, okay?” Fear sends a surge of adrenaline through me. “Say goodbye? What are you talking about?” “I’m never going to be the type of woman you need. I’m not tough like Trinity.” “Baby, is that what’s wrong? Here I thought you were mad at me for dragging you into my shitty, fucked-up world and almost getting you killed. But you’re worried you’re not tough enough for me?” With her mouth set in a grim line, she nods. “You just dropped me off, and I didn’t hear from you…” I crush her against me again. “Hope, no.” Fuck. Do I tell her the truth? What the hell—I’m about to lose her anyway. Lowering my voice, since we’re in the hospital parking lot, for fuck’s sake, I try to explain. “We got a lead on the guys who ran us off the road. I needed to take care of that. I also thought you were pissed at me, so I wanted to give you a little space.” “Oh, what did the police do?” Huh? “The police?”

Suddenly I get where she’s going. “Honey, I love you, but that is not how I handle things. They could have killed you. All of us, my brothers, Trinity. My best friend is seriously fucked up and out of commission for the next few months. I protect what’s mine, and I don’t do it by crying to the cops about it.” She takes a minute to absorb that. I watch the recognition flare in her eyes as my words sink in. “Okay.” Okay? That’s it? “Anything else you want to ask me?” “No. I get it. Going to the police would have been pointless. You would have had to explain where we were coming from, and once they heard that, they would have assumed we were all gangsters or something and not put much effort into the case. See if we all kill each other to make their jobs easier.” What. The. Fuck? Where has this girl been hiding all along? Speechless, I just stare at her for a minute. This mix of offended innocence sweeps over her face. “What? I’m a lawyer, not stupid. I have no love for law enforcement. I’ve seen how many times they railroad innocent people, and how they use legal extortion to extract what they want. I’m not saying I condone taking matters into your own hands—because you could have gotten hurt—or that I love the idea, but I understand it under these circumstances.” My jaw is working, but nothing comes out of my mouth. She slips her hand over it, silencing me. “I don’t want any details about what you guys did, though, okay? If I had to represent you in connection with this…well, it’s just better I don’t know.” Without releasing my hold on her, I tug my phone out of my pocket. “What are you doing?” “Texting one of the guys to bring my bike up to the clubhouse. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Somehow, I lost the battle to drive us to my house. I’m not sure how I feel about

that. Normally I prefer to be the one in control of the vehicle I’m in. Not that Hope’s a bad driver, but she’s my woman, and I should be driving her. I’m all sorts of twitchy sitting in the passenger seat, which makes her laugh repeatedly at my expense. I tell myself the only reason she’s behind the wheel is when she bent over to clean out the passenger side—cause my girl keeps her car as messy as her closets —she distracted me with thoughts of getting her back to my house and bent over my bed. Thank fuck we’re only a few blocks away, although with the traffic and red lights every thirty fucking feet, it seems to take forever. I’m on her the second we set foot inside. The way I strip her down is almost violent, but she can’t seem to get enough. Like a wild man, my gaze darts to every available surface. Bend her over the table? Up on the counter? No. Ultimately, I want her under me for a long damn time, so we’re going upstairs. For some reason, she still has her bra and panties on when we get inside my bedroom. Why her tits aren’t filling my palms right now is a mystery. I lost my shirt and boots somewhere downstairs, but she’s struggling to get my jeans off, while I’m trying to figure out the tricky little hooks on her bra. Finally I get her free. The bra goes sailing across the room while I fill my mouth with a tasty little nipple. With one arm around her waist and my other hand holding her tit for my greedy fucking mouth, I walk her backwards to the bed. My hand slides down under her panties to cup one little round ass cheek. How could she ever think I would give any of this up? I turn and take her down to the bed with me so she’s straddling my lap. She works her satin-covered pussy over my fly. The sexiest mewling noises are coming out of her mouth. I sit up and cup her face with my hands, pulling her to me for more scorching kisses. “Panties off, now,” I growl against her lips. But I don’t give her a chance to lift off me for even a second. Instead, I twine my hands in the thin waistband and snap it in half. Pushing and nudging her down, I fall over her. Her hands are at my jeans, frantically shoving them down over my hips, freeing my cock. My girl is just as crazed as I am. She lifts her legs, spreading wide, and hooks her feet into the

waistband to push my pants down my legs. It’s sexy as fuck, how nuts she is to get me inside of her. I don’t want to disappoint, so the minute the tip of my dick gets near her slick pussy, I slide home. We both groan at the intensity. In seconds, my furious thrusting is pushing her down the bed. Wrapping my arms around her, I anchor her with hands on her shoulders to keep her still so I can fuck her hard and fast. Once I finally kick my fucking pants off, I sit back on my heels and take it slow. Keeping her legs spread wide, I’m in the perfect position to watch myself slide in and out of her pretty pussy. I place one hand on her mound to keep her still and use my thumb to play with her clit. Fuck, that’s the hottest damn thing. I fall down over her, licking and sucking at her neck. Her hands are all over me, rubbing and squeezing my back, my arms, my shoulders. I can’t stop slamming up inside her. All mine. “Tell me I own your fucking pussy, Baby Doll.” She stares up at me in big owl-eyed surprise. Damn, that expression only makes the fire roaring through me hotter. “Say it,” I growl against her lips. “I’m yours.” Not good enough. “Say the actual words. Tell me that pussy belongs to me.” She hesitates. I’m balls deep, fucking her half to death, and she’s embarrassed. It would be adorable if I wasn’t so desperate. “You own my pussy, only you,” she says so soft and sweet. Damn right. I take her lips, fucking her mouth with my tongue. My hips pump into her with short, sharp strokes. She breaks our kiss, breathing hard. One hand slides into my hair, nails raking against my scalp. Fuck, I love when she does that. My eyes close, then snap open when she yanks my hair back—hard. “Tell me I own your cock.” I chuckle. Look who’s not embarrassed anymore. “Yeah, Baby Doll, you own that cock. Now, come all over it for me.” My filthy words set her off. I watch her face as she rides it out—lips parted, cheeks flushed, eyes closed. Squeezing me so damn tight, I’m about to blow. When she relaxes, I slow my furious thrusting. “Don’t stop. Feels too good.” She moans the words, but I get what she’s saying. Primal need wraps its arms around my chest. One minute I’m fucking her, balls tightening, ready to burst, that familiar zip of pleasure shooting down my spine and the next I’m sliding out of her slick heat and spraying her belly with my cum. I can’t stop. Don’t want to stop. My eyes shut as I ride out one of the most intense orgasms of my life. Holy fuck. Afraid of what I’ll see, it takes me a minute to open my eyes when I finally finish. There’s no anger on her face, though. She’s smiling, laughing a little, as she looks from the mess on her stomach to my face.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.” I stumble out of the bed and stagger into the bathroom to find something to clean her up with. When I get back, she hasn’t moved, except her fingers are busy twisting and pulling at her still-hard nipples. I’m barely going to have a second to clean her up before I’m back inside her again. Later it’s dark, and neither of us can move. I think we’ve screwed ourselves into some sort of coma. My dick actually feels a little raw. I know I need to get up and feed my girl, but I don’t think my legs can carry me all the way downstairs. She’s fucked everything out of me. I’m drained. Zapped. Stupid-happy. She nuzzles closer to me, pressing her soft lips against my hip, snaking her tongue along the v of my obliques. “Mmm, I think this is my favorite part of you,” she sighs. She’s so damn close to my cock, he jumps. Good to know he’s not dead after all. Still kissing the area in question, she traces her fingers across the other side. “That tickles, Baby Doll.” She giggles, the sound vibrating against my skin. Making two finger guns with my hands, I place them at the spots she’s busy worshiping. “When I was younger, I wanted to get a pistol tattooed on each side.” “Oh, baby, you don’t need any help finding your cock,” she teases. “Very funny. Come here.” With a final kiss in the crease of my thigh, her soft hair brushing right up against my dick, she crawls up and snuggles next to me. Except for her soft, steady breathing, she’s quiet, and I figure she’s fallen asleep. “Rochlan, were you mad I went to visit Wrath in the hospital?” she asks suddenly. Her voice is still husky from screaming my name while I plowed into her from behind earlier. Aw, fuck. My woman knows what’s going on in my caveman brain better than I do. I give her a little squeeze. “No, Baby Doll. Not mad. Not mad at all. That was very sweet of you.” “Okay. I thought…” “What, honey? Tell me.” “I didn’t know if I broke some secret, biker bro code, or something?” I can’t stop laughing. She’s so fucking cute. Where does she come up with this shit? Now she’s pissed, and she thumps my chest with her fingers. “No broken bro code,” I reassure her with a teasing grin. “Shut up,” she grumbles before climbing back on top of me. “Hope—” “Shhh…” She shuts me up with soft kisses, and to my surprise, my cock reports for duty immediately. “You have to do all the work this time, Baby Doll.”

She chuckles soft against my ear. Her silky hair all around me, sliding over my cheek smells so fucking good. “My pleasure.” She reaches down and grips me, then lowers herself onto my abused cock. “Ride me,” I urge. And she does.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I think Rock and I spent over twenty-four hours in bed. Talking and fucking.

Mostly fucking. My legs are so shaky when we crawl into the bathroom the next morning, I worry I’ll slip and kill us both in the shower. He works me over good, and as soon as I finish, he’s sliding his thick cock out of me and coming all over my back. I’ve created a monster. But I can’t help but smile. He cleans me up and pulls me to him. My back against his front. I arch and wrap my arms around his neck and he takes full advantage, cupping my breasts and gently tugging my nipples. When we finally make it downstairs, there’s an odd metallic buzzing sound coming from the kitchen. We discover Rock’s phone—which he left on the counter last night during our frantic race to fuck each other’s brains out—has been ringing so much it vibrated its way into the sink. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters as he grabs the phone. Standing at his side, I see he must have a dozen or more missed calls. “I better call back before they come looking for me.” As he dials, I start preparing breakfast. I also guzzle about a gallon of water. Who ever heard of sex-dehydration? I set aside a large glass of water for Rock and point to it while he’s talking on the phone. Judging from his end of the conversation, the hospital is releasing Wrath, and the guys have been calling him to coordinate the trip. A sliver of guilt pricks me. I hope we didn’t cause Wrath to have to stay in the hospital longer than necessary because we couldn’t be reached. My sore lady bits are relieved we have a distraction. After hanging up, he stares at what I’ve made for breakfast for a couple seconds. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be on the phone so long.” “No problem. Everything okay?” He eats quickly. “I gotta go pick him up. He’s being a big baby about taking a wheel chair home. Trinity is up at the clubhouse getting her room ready for him.” I arch a brow, so he’ll explain. “Her room is on the first floor. She offered. I

figure if he bugs her too much, she can just move into his room upstairs where he can’t get to her.” I let out a soft chuckle at that. Trinity and I haven’t talked about her relationship much, but I’m curious how this is going to work out. I imagine Wrath is a handful. And by handful, I mean giant pain in the ass. For some reason, I’m feeling awkward again. “Do you want me to come with you?” “Yes. But you probably shouldn’t. He’ll be even more difficult if he thinks he’s showing weakness in front of you.” Sounds about right. “Besides cheeseburgers, what does he like? I’ll stop and get some stuff to welcome him home.” “You don’t have to do that. Trinity and the other girls got it handled.” “Oh.” Here I go feeling useless again. “Hope, the only person you have to worry about taking care of is me.” A sly smile curves my lips. “I think I did a pretty good job of that last night.” He leans over and kisses my forehead. “Yes, you did.” “I guess I’ll go home. I haven’t really been there much in the last few days.” His face clouds over, troubled. “I didn’t say I don’t want you to come up to the clubhouse at all. Just don’t stress out feeling like you have to do anything extra.” “Okay.” When I arrive, my house feels empty. Why do I even bother any more? I should sell it and move to a smaller apartment. Just thinking about getting rid of the house I shared with Clay sends me into a crying jag. Settling into my bed to let it all out, I end up falling asleep. It’s dark when I finally wake up. After searching all over, I figure I left my cell phone in my car. I’m worried Rock may have tried to reach me, so I hurry up to grab it. I also collect my mail, because I don’t think I’ve bothered to get it in a few days now. My phone buzzes, startling me. Tucking the mail under my arm, I smile when I see Rock’s number and pick up the call. “Where are you, Baby Doll?” His smooth voice tickles my insides. “Home.” He makes a displeased humming noise. “Your home should be with me.” His voice comes through clear and certain. I’m speechless, standing in my driveway like a moron. “Hope?” “I’m here. Did you mean that?” He sighs. “Yes. I’ve wanted to discuss it with you for a while now.” “Okay.” “Yeah?” “Okay, we can discuss it. Face to face.” “Fair enough. I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” “Come up here tonight. Things are a little nuts with everyone welcoming the big baby home, so I don’t want to leave.” “I don’t mind driving up. Do you need me to bring anything?” Another sigh. “Rock, I pass a grocery store on my way—it’s not a big deal.” “If you could bring up some six packs of Coke, that would be great.” In the background I hear someone shout “beer!” and then some static. He must have covered the phone because I hear the distinct yell of “shut the fuck up!” to whoever it was. “Sorry.” “I can bring beer too.” “Just whatever’s cheapest for these assholes.” I giggle. More static, and it sounds like someone is trying to wrestle the phone from Rock. “Let me talk to her.” “Hi, Hope.” Sounds like Wrath. “Why aren’t you at my welcome home party yet?” “I’m on my way.” “Will you bring me a bottle of Jack, sweetheart, please?” I burst out laughing when I hear the definite smack of skin on skin and Wrath yelp. “Fuck him, Hope. Don’t you dare bring that dick anything.” I’m still shaking with laughter when I get in my car. The Coke is easy enough to find. I buy a bunch of twelve packs. The beer is harder. I know jack-all about beer. I grab a few different cases of cheap stuff. And then because I’m a total girl, I buy a few of the more expensive six packs because I think the bottles are pretty or the names are cute. I figure in a house full of men, someone is bound to drink the stuff. I run through produce to grab oranges, lemons, and some limes for myself. There’s a liquor store right next to the grocery, so of course I run in. Saying I know anything more about liquor than I do about beer is laughable. It’s almost closing time, but the owner smiles big when I bring up the largest bottle of Jack Daniels they sell. On impulse, I run back and grab bottles of Crown Royal and Jameson as well. The owner cards me. Since I’m still feeling pretty haggard from the events of the last few days, that small gesture makes me ridiculously happy. I send Rock a text to let him know I should be there in twenty minutes. He’s outside waiting for me when I back my car up to the front steps. He jogs over to my window. “What are you doing?” “Someone needs to unload the trunk. I got it all in there, but I’m not taking it all out.” He snorts and opens my door.

“What am I going to do with you?” One panty-melting kiss later, and I’m wondering why I’ve been away from this man for so long. Reaching back into the car, I grab the two paper bags from the liquor store and haul them out. I hand Rock the one with the Crown and Jameson and keep the Jack. “Where’s the invalid?” “Inside, soaking up all the attention,” he answers with an eye roll. Peeking in the bag, he lifts his gaze to mine. “You didn’t have to do that.” I shrug. He slips his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me to him for another kiss. “You’re so sweet, Baby Doll.” The corners of my mouth lift at the soft, sexy tone he uses. “Prez, you need me?” Rock pulls away. “Axel, this is my woman. Hope, our newest prospect.” I hold out my hand, and he hesitates before giving it a quick shake. “Heidi’s boyfriend, right? She couldn’t stop talking about you when we met.” Axel looks extremely pleased and grins at me. He’s a handsome kid. If I were sixteen and had his attention, I’d be in serious trouble. Rock shoves my keys in Axel’s chest. “Unload her car. Get Hoot to help. Then park it over there and leave the keys on my desk.” “Sure.” “Thanks, Axel,” I say because it doesn’t appear Rock is going to do it. “No problem.” He happily gets to work. The scene inside doesn’t shock me like it might have months ago. Someone brought in a special chair for Wrath and he’s sitting in the middle of the room, letting everyone fawn all over him. Trinity is hovering over at the bar, but she squeals and gives me a big hug when I come in. “Hope! You’re finally here,” Wrath calls. I’m shocked he seems so happy to see me. When I approach and he sees the bag in my hand, he looks almost giddy. “Whatcha got?” Handing him the bottle, I giggle at his excited expression. “Oh, now that’s what I’m talking about. Fuck, you’re awesome. I didn’t expect you to get such a big-ass bottle.” He looks up at me with soft eyes. An almost guilty expression clouds his face for a moment. “Thanks, sweetheart, that was real nice of you.” Something strange is going on. Maybe he bumped his head harder than we realize. I reach out and run my fingers over his shoulder. “And that’s enough of that,” Rock says from behind me. Before I know what’s happening, Rock scoops me up and carries me to the couch. He settles me in his lap, keeping his arms around my waist. “Jealous much?” I tease. One corner of his mouth twists up in a sexy smile. I lean in and whisper against his ear, “You already know you own my p—” “Hello, kids,” Wrath interrupts, flinging himself onto the couch. His crutches go clattering to the floor and he kicks them to the side with his good foot. Rock sighs. “Aren’t you supposed to be using a wheelchair?”

“Fuck that shit.” He focuses his gaze on me. “What’s doin’, Cinderella?” I snort out a laugh. “Stop calling me that. I’m no Cinderella.” Glancing at Rock, I run my fingers over his cheek. “Although, you are definitely my Prince Charming.” A broad grin curves his lips and he kisses my fingers. “Christ you two are going to make me hurl,” Wrath bitches. Rock ignores his friend. “This ain’t a fairy tale, Baby Doll.” “No kidding,” I agree with an exaggerated eye-roll that makes both of them laugh. We’re interrupted by one of the girls—Swan, I think—who comes over and whispers in Wrath’s ear. Rock rubs my back and kisses my cheek. My eyes flutter shut at the feel of his lips on my face. When I open them, Wrath’s shaking his head and clearly giving Swan a look of dismissal. She shrugs and says hi to me before sauntering away. Wrath turns on a more serious expression and aims his attention on Rock. “Anyway, since you were unreachable before—” He gives me a pointed look like it’s all my fault Rock kept me horizontal for twenty-four hours straight. “I didn’t get to tell you my big news. I got someone to maybe cover my classes down at the gym. But I need your help to oversee stuff until I can get down there.” “You own a gym?” I ask. Wrath quirks a smile at me. “I didn’t get this buff by sitting around on my ass, sweetheart.” I chuckle. “You’re impressed with yourself.” His grin widens. “Just know my strengths. All brawn. No brains.” He says it with a smile, but it still bothers me for some reason. Many words come to mind when I think of Wrath: mean, scary, loyal, terrifying, formidable— but not dumb. “That’s not true.” “Please. I never would have graduated from high school if this fuck hadn’t forced me to,” he says with a punch to Rock’s bicep. Rock sighs as if he’d rather talk about anything else, but I’m fascinated with their history, so I ignore him. “Really?” “Yup. Gave me a roof over my head on the condition that I stay in school.” I glance at Rock. “That was nice. Your dad didn’t mind having him around? I imagine he took a lot of care and feeding.” Wrath snorts. “Already had my own place by then,” Rock answers slowly. “Total shithole,” Wrath elaborates. “But better than the street or some chick’s basement.” “How old were you?” Wrath glances around the room before answering. “Sixteen? Seventeen? Was doing small backyard fights and shit for money.” “He was a talented, yet angry little fucker,” Rock says without a trace of a smile. “I doubt he was little, even back then,” I tease. Wrath grins at me. “Very true,” he agrees. “Rock wanted me to teach him how

to fight. In exchange he let me sleep on his couch. Said he’d start bringing me to the MC when I finished school. He was barely a prospect himself.” “You two must have been something back then.” Rock raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. “Stayed with him until after the she-devil moved in, then I moved into the old MC.” “She-devil?” I ask. Rock tenses under me and sighs louder this time. “His whore of an ex-wife,” Wrath explains with a scowl. Wow. Okay. I’m not sure what to do with that. I’ve heard some unfavorable things about her from Z, but Wrath has some intense opinions on this subject too. “Hmm…I guess I should be flattered when you call me Cinderella, then, huh?” I joke to ease some of the tension. Wrath cocks his head and seems to be considering what he wants to say for a change. “Can we save the history lessons for another day and get back to the gym?” Rock asks. “I’d like to take Hope upstairs soon,” he adds with a dirty wink at me. Smart move, because now I’m blushing so furiously I’ve forgotten what we were even discussing. Wrath snickers at my discomfort. “Yeah okay, you’re not going to like this, but —” He stops and glances at me, then gives Rock a look. I grit my teeth because I know what’s coming. Rock thrusts his chin in the direction of the bar. “Babe, can you see if Trinity needs any help, and bring me back a Crown and Coke in a few minutes? Please.” Scooting off his lap and out of his reach, I grumble at him, “You could have just said ‘club business, get lost’ you know.” Rock’ face softens and he gives me an apologetic smile.

“You gonna pay for that later?” Wrath asks in his uniquely dickish way. My gaze is glued to Hope’s backside as she walks through the crowd to the bar. Already I miss having her body heat against me. Shaking it off, I turn and focus on my brother. “Speak.” “Christ. You really ain’t tired of hittin’ that yet, are you?” I cock an eyebrow at him. “One brush with death wasn’t enough for you this week?” Finally, he wipes the brash grin off. “Sorry. I just never…never seen you like

this. It’s fuckin’ weird.” “Get used to it.” He throws a quick glance at Trinity. “How’s that working out?” I ask, because I can be a dick too. His jaw clenches for a second before answering. “Fine. We can talk about that later.” “Yeah, okay. The gym,” I prompt, because I wasn’t kidding about taking Hope upstairs. “Irish visited me in the hospital.” I rocket forward. “What the fuck?” He holds up a hand in “calm down” gesture. “No, it’s all good. He apologized. Heard about the shit his crew pulled. Wanted me to know he had no part of it. He was really upset. They’re up at Northern Hospital, by the way.” I grunt at that. I must be getting soft. They should be fucking dead. “You trust this little punk? How do you know he’s not trying to worm his way in for some payback?” “That’s why I need you to oversee him. I’ll talk to Whisper and Jake too. But I could use his help. And he asked if I’d help train him when I’m better. Guess he was impressed with the way I kicked his ass.” “Up to you, brother. It’s your place.” “I got at least a week to think it over. He’s pretty fucked up. Not in any shape to be doin’ much,” he says with a big dose of glee. I just shake my head.

Trinity flashes me a warm smile as I approach the bar. “I’ve been sent away,” I grumble as lean my elbows on the shiny wood counter. A sympathetic smile turns the corners of her mouth up. “Club business?” “Something about Wrath’s gym.” She seems surprised and hesitates for a second. “Always play dumb when it comes to club business, Hope.” Startled and feeling a little foolish, I straighten up and take a step back from the bar. Alarm crosses Trinity’s face and she reaches for me. “I’m sorry, Hope. I didn’t mean to sound like I was scolding you. Just if…you know, we were ever around any other clubs or one of our other charters—always act as if you hear nothing.” I realize Trinity’s trying to help me—she wasn’t trying to be mean. Also, I need

to acknowledge that she knows a hell of a lot more about this stuff than I do, so instead of getting offended, I might want to listen to what she has to say if I plan to stay in Rock’s life. Anywhere else, I wouldn’t tolerate being excluded from something because I’m female. How much of myself am I willing to give up to keep Rock? I’ll save that dilemma for another time. I realize I haven’t responded and Trinity is about to freak out because she thinks she’s offended me. “Sorry, Trinity. I know you’re just looking out for me.” I resume my position, leaning on the bar counter. Her shoulders drop and she gives me another faint smile. “I’m used to it, but I can imagine it’s weird for you.” Her gaze sweeps over me, and her mouth twists into a playful grin. “FYI, I wouldn’t keep standing like that in a room full of bikers. You know how they say men think about sex seventy-five percent of the time? With these guys, it’s closer to ninety-nine percent.” I turn my head and catch a glimpse of Rock watching me intently from across the room. Very slightly I shift my weight, wiggling my ass at him. He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Hey, Hope. Keep standing like that and you’re just begging for a spankin’,” Z says, startling me into an upright position. I yank my shirt down. Trinity’s giggling. “Told ya.” “You startled me, you perv!” I say, giving him a playful smack on the arm. I get a roguish smile in return. “Rock’s gonna kill you,” Trinity mutters. “Nah. Hope’s like that hot sister-in-law you got inappropriate feelings for, but wouldn’t touch on a dare.” A confused, nervous giggle bursts out of me. “Thanks, I think.” Z winks at me, then focuses on Trinity. “Now you—nothing about my feelings for you are brotherly. What are you doing later?” Poor Trinity blushes and flicks her eyes at me. Suddenly, I wish I was elsewhere. “Can I get a Crown and Coke to go, please?” I ask. Ignoring Z, Trinity pours the drink and hands it to me. I leave them staring at each other because it’s awkward and I want no part of it. Rock glances up as I approach. “Everything okay?” he asks as I hand him his drink. “Yeah, things were just getting a little too intense up there—” One glance at a tightly coiled Wrath, and I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Rock rolls his eyes and pulls me into his lap. “What are you talkin’ about, Hope?” Wrath asks. Slipping my arms around Rock, I soak in his warmth and burrow my face in his shoulder. “Nothing,” I mumble against Rock’s neck. The couch shifts, and I pick my head up to see Wrath pulling himself up pretty gracefully for a big guy with a broken leg. “‘Scuse me,” he snarls and heads for the bar. Rock shakes his head.

“Sorry,” I whisper. Under me, Rock’s shaking with laughter. After a minute, he leans down and whispers in my ear, “You ready to head upstairs?” I don’t get to answer because Z throws himself on the couch next to us. “That was fun. Thanks, Hope,” he says, patting my leg with a chuckle. “Jerk,” I grumble at him. Rock cocks an eyebrow at Z. “Seriously?” While I don’t feel bad about the guys messing with each other—honestly Wrath has it coming in spades—I can’t get Trinity’s mortified expression out of my head. “Z threatened to spank my ass before too,” I blurt out. Rock growls. Z’s eyes widen and jumps up off the couch. “That was dirty, Hope,” he says with a grin and takes off. I can’t help giggling. Rock gives me a squeeze. “Sorry I chased you away before.” A sigh escapes me before I answer. “I understand.” “Have a good talk with Trinity?” “Sort of. She always seems so afraid she’s going to offend me.” He nods and holds me a little tighter. “You’re the president’s ol’ lady,” he says if that explains anything. “I’m glad you two get along,” he continues. “She could use a good girl friend.” I glance at the bar, where she’s surrounded by guys and working fast to hand out drinks. A glowering Wrath standing next to the bar, seems to be waiting for her to finish. “Yeah, I guess so,” I answer dryly. Rock plants a soft kiss on my cheek. “I’m about done here, Baby Doll.” Shivering from his touch, I turn and give him a longer kiss. “Me too,” I utter breathlessly when we part.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

B reakfast the next morning is a little weird. Too many questions I’m too chicken

to ask float through my head. Z and Wrath sort of glare at each other, but overall they seem to have calmed down. Trinity walks out of the kitchen, coffee pot in hand, and thinking over Rock’s words from last night, I work out a plan in my head. She fills everyone’s mug, then turns to head back. “Trinity?” She stops, glances back. “You need something, Hope?” Next to me, Rock is still, but I feel his eyes on me. Across the table, Wrath is also oddly quiet. Only Z, Murphy, and Teller go on talking, taking no notice. Shit, I shouldn’t do this in front of everyone. Throwing on a casual smile, I ask, “Don’t you ever eat breakfast?” She stiffens, but pastes on a smile as she takes a few steps closer to the table. “Sure, in the kitchen while I’m getting everyone else’s stuff together.” “Oh, no wonder you stay so skinny,” I tease. “Look who’s talking,” she jokes back. Actually, with my grief diet behind me, I’ve been packing weight back on with frightening speed. Every time I complain about it, Rock either says he doesn’t know what I’m talking about or he’s glad because he needs more to hold onto. Neither answer comforts me, and I make a mental note to start using the gym here soon. Shaking that off, I continue with my mission. “Well, I’m kind of on testosterone overload. Would you mind eating breakfast out here today?” I ask shyly. A nervous smile flitters over her lips, and her gaze jumps to Rock. Under the table, I dig my fingers into his leg. If he chases her away, I’m going to be super pissed. With my head turned, I can’t see his face, but whatever unspoken permission he must have given makes her relax. “Sure, I’ll be right back.” Worried it’s going to take her forever, I jump up before Rock can stop me and follow her into the kitchen. “Hope, what are you doing?” she asks when I follow behind her. Birch is by the

stove, getting plates ready. Well, at least someone helps her out around here. “The sooner you get your butt out there, the sooner you can rescue me from all the bro talk,” I joke. “Oh, okay.” I can tell I’ve made her nervous and feel bad about it, so I try to act casual while I dig around in the kitchen for my breakfast. Then I realize I have no idea where everything is kept. Figuring now is as good a time as any to start learning, I wander around the kitchen until I locate the pantry. Sticking my head inside, I find boxes of cereal and pull out two of those tiny single-serve boxes of trusty cornflakes. In the fridge I find a small container of skim milk, so I grab that too. Birch keeps watching me with interest. “Bowls?” He reaches into one of the cabinets and hands me down a bowl, then pulls out the drawer in front of him and gives me a spoon. “Thanks.” My gaze flicks to Trinity. “What are you having, Trin?” “Probably cereal too,” she answers without looking over. “Cornflakes?” “Sure.” Grabbing two more little boxes from the pantry, I return and add another bowl and spoon to my armful. Birch helpfully hands me a tray. It occurs to me that while Trinity probably can’t boss Birch around, based on what Rock says about me being his ol’ lady, I can. I don’t mean it in a power trip, bossy-pants sort of way, but a help us out sorta way. Trin has three trays set up. It’s ridiculous for her to make three trips back and forth before she can even sit down. “Hey, Birch, help us carry these out, okay?” I ask. “Yeah, of course.” I think it’s the first time I’ve ever heard him speak. Trinity glances at me with worried eyes, which I ignore. Jerking my chin to the trays, I ask, “which one is Rock’s?” She points it out, and I transfer my stuff to that tray and pick it up. Ignoring her bugged-out eyes, I bump my hip against the kitchen door. “Hurry up, Trinity. Food is getting cold,” I call over my shoulder. Rock watches me with interest as I set the tray down and hand him his plate. I place everything else on the table as well and set up a spot for Trinity next to me. Wrath’s keen gaze is also fixed on me, but I ignore him. When Trinity is done setting plates in front of Wrath and Z, I pat the chair next to me. “Hey,” Murphy grouches, then smiles to cover it up. “Birch is coming,” I explain. There’s tension at the table, but I don’t really care. Maybe I’ve overstepped, and if that’s the case, Rock can tell me later. I wasn’t kidding about needing female companionship. I can only listen to cryptic club business conversation and gear head talk for so long before I lose my mind. Under the table, Rock’s hand gives my thigh a gentle squeeze. I’m not sure how

to interpret it, but I don’t think he’s mad. Except for Wrath, everyone else has gone back to their conversations. Dumping both boxes of cereal into my bowl, I glance up. “How do you feel today?” He continues staring at me for a few moments before answering. “Hung over. Sore. But happy to be home.” A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “I think everyone is relieved you’re home.” Next to me, Trinity is silent. She hasn’t moved a muscle. It dawns on me— perhaps a little too late—that it might be awkward for her to eat breakfast at the same table as Wrath and Z, after last night. Oops. Too late now. Using it as an excuse, I pick up the milk and push it into her hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to hog up the milk, Trin.” She shakes out of her trance. “Thanks, Hope.” The tension seems to melt. The guys go back to talking. Z is lamenting the “last run of the season” they’re all going to miss. “Fucking go,” Wrath growls. “No fucking way. We all go, or no one goes,” Murphy shoots back. “We’ll do up a big one at the start of the next season for you,” Teller adds. The guys all grumble about being stuck in their “cages” through the winter. Their grumbling turns to excitement as they discuss the plans they have to tear down and upgrade their motorcycles in the next few months. I anticipate that means they will be spending a lot of time out in that giant garage, and now I understand why it’s heated. Conversation shifts to a club business run, which I gather is a totally different thing than the other type of run they’d been discussing. Rock cuts them off. “We’ll figure it out later.” They go back to debating bike modifications, and my mind zones out. After a bit, I nudge Trinity with my elbow. “Don’t you ever get tired of all the boy talk?” I mock whisper. She huffs out a soft laugh. “Not really.” “What do you like to do, Trin?” She shrugs. “This place keeps me busy. I can’t wait for next spring. The guys are going to put in a garden so I can grow some veggies and stuff here.” Wrath glances at us and flashes a smile. “We’ll get the prospects started on that early, so it’s ready for you.” Inside I’m laughing. Guess the prospects don’t get to fix their bikes up over the winter. Z punches Teller in the arm. “You should let me get one of those compact tractors. I could do all sorts of shit around here with one.” “So, stop whining about it and bring it up at church,” Teller answers back. Z flips him off, and they go back to their guy talk. “So gardening? Are you the one who keeps the big Buddha guy looking spiffy?” I tease.

I finally get a genuine smile out of Trinity. “Yeah, that’s me,” she says with a sparkle in her tawny eyes. “Neat. I’ve never been able to keep any plants alive for more than a week.” “Sparky helps,” Trinity explains. That confuses me. “Which one is he?” Rock interrupts by wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Babe, is that all you’re gonna eat?” “Yes, I’m getting fat enough, thanks to you.” “Oh, geez. You two can go sit over there if you’re gonna start talking diets and stuff,” Z says, motioning over to the table by the window. “You need more protein,” Wrath interjects, pointing at my now-empty bowl. “Fuck, here we go. Mr. Clean Eating Fighter,” Teller jokes. Wrath shrugs. “Whatever, welterweight.” The guys start trading insults, and I poke Trinity again. “What else do you do for fun around here?” She arches a brow at me, and too late I realize she might have interpreted my question as “besides fuck the guys,” which was so not what I meant. “I read a lot,” she finally answers. We discuss some of our favorite books, and I promise to stop by her room later so I can borrow a few from her. “Hey, I don’t know what kind of music you like, but my friend, Sophie, has an extra ticket to see Afterlife on Friday. You think you’d like to go?” Rock nudges me. “Hey,” he huffs in an offended tone. “Girls’ night,” I answer without turning my head. Trinity hesitates. “Come on. You’ll probably need a night off from playing nurse to Wrath, right?” I say, jerking my chin in his direction. A brief smile twists his lips before his gaze slips to Rock. She flicks a glance at Wrath who gives her an almost imperceptible nod of his head. “Yeah, I like them a lot. Sounds like fun.” Ignoring their exchange, I clap my hands together. “Cool. You’ll like Sophie and Lilly. Hell, they’ll probably like you more than me.” Z’s watching us now. “Where is the show, Hope? Not the dive we went to last time?” “No. Downtown at the arena.” He nods, and I get the feeling girls’ night is going to include an escort whether we want it or not.

Seeing my girl working hard to befriend Trinity is a gut punch that emphasizes how perfect Hope is for me. Trinity has had a difficult life, and she’s important to me. There’s never been anything sexual about our relationship, but every woman I’ve been with over the years has seen Trinity as a threat and treated her accordingly. Club girls, jealous of her position in the house, usually treat her as competition they can defeat. Trinity has always handled the turmoil well. With the life she’s lived, she expects it, I guess. It’s obvious she’s not sure what to make of Hope’s eagerness to be friends. I figure they’ll work it out over time. Hope can be persistent that way. Even though I’m happy about their budding friendship, it doesn’t mean I’m thrilled about them running around downtown Empire together for their girls’ night out. Adding Lilly and Sophie to the mix doesn’t make me any more confident. But I didn’t run a strip club in Empire for years without making a few friends. One of those friends now manages the company that provides security for the arena the girls are going to for their show. After I make that phone call, it’s a lot easier to pretend to be the laid-back boyfriend eager to send his girl off for a night of rowdiness with her friends. The girls have been back and forth all afternoon getting ready for their evening out. Fed up and chased from Trinity’s room, Wrath throws himself onto the couch. “I can’t believe you’re letting them do this.” Adam’s words drift into my head, and I chuckle. “One doesn’t let Hope do anything, brother. And I don’t think you have much say over Trinny, either,” I remind him with a pointed look. “Fuck off,” he growls. Pointing to his cast, he grinds out another concern. “It’s kinda soon after this bullshit to be letting them run around unprotected.” Okay, he’s got a point there. “Z and I took care of those fucks.” Wrath’s jaw ticks, but he nods. Music drifts out from the back of the house. Wrath rolls his eyes at me. “It’s like backstage at a fashion show down there. Why couldn’t they do that shit in your room?” I shrug. “Who’s coming up tonight?” I ask to change the subject. “Fuck if I know,” Wrath grumbles, surprising me, since he’s usually on top of every person who comes through our gate. “You worried about something else?” He glances at me with a pained expression, and understanding dawns on me.

Brother’s hating this so much, I almost manage not to laugh. “They’re not going out to pick up guys.” “I know Hope isn’t. But those other two you told me about…” he trails off. I elbow him in the ribs. “I called Blue. He’ll make sure they’re protected at the show, and Birch will be on their tail. They’ll be fine.” That didn’t exactly address his concerns, but he relaxes a little. “Whatever,” he mumbles as he swipes up the remote and flicks the television on. Sparky wanders up long enough to grab something from the kitchen and head back downstairs to his plants. Shaking my head, I go into the war room to work on some stuff that came up during the week. Loud giggles pull me back into the main room. “We’re almost ready to go,” Hope shouts. “Oh, hey,” she says, hurrying over when I come out of the war room. Fuck me. Nope. Not okay letting her go out at all now. Wrath gives me a smug look that I interpret as “still cool with this, bro?” As far as dresses go, I’m sure it’s tame compared to what her friends will be wearing. It’s black and has a tight top held together with laces all the way up. The swinging skirt stops way too far above her knees for my taste. Her legs are covered in black stockings with some sort of lacy, flowery pattern. I swear my girl has given me some sort of fucking pantyhose fetish, because all I can think about is ripping right through them and fucking her hard. My filthy thoughts must be plastered all over my face because suddenly her cheeks are bright pink. Clearing my throat, I ask, “Aren’t you going to be cold?” She holds up a bright blue leather jacket that I recognize as Trinity’s. My eyes skip down to the black, knee-high boots her legs are encased in, and I stifle a groan. Soft clicking announces Trinity’s arrival. Wrath’s smug face turns downright deadly when he gets a look at her. Royal blue, equally tight and short, Trinity’s dress makes her blonde hair seem even brighter. She’s also wearing black tights and boots. The two of them make quite a pair. Wrath pushes himself off the couch and hobbles over. “Jacket?” I cough out. She holds up a black leather jacket that I’m pretty sure is actually Hope’s. “Yes, Dad.” “Very funny.” Pulling out my phone, I snap a picture. “Just in case you go missing, so I have something to give the police.” I meant it as a joke, but it came out kind of strained. “Very funny,” Hope teases me with my own words. Grabbing hold of Trinity’s hand, she drags her to the door. “Let’s go. I don’t like the bossy caveman faces I’m seeing.” Trinity chuckles nervously. “Hey, wait a sec,” I call. Hope turns, and I crook my finger at her. Smiling, she saunters over.

“Have fun, but be careful?” “Of course.” “Where you going first?” “We’re meeting up at the Red Room for drinks, then walking to the arena. Sophie has parking passes for her firm’s garage we can use.” “Okay. Just be careful walking around down there.” She smiles, but I can tell she’s fighting the urge to tell me to fuck off. “I will.” She tilts her head in Trinity’s direction. “I’ve got the little blonde badass with me. We’ll be fine.” I snort at that. My eyes skip to Trinity and Wrath. He’s bent over whispering something in her ear. She’s blushing and smiling, so at least he’s not giving her a hard time. Laughing, she pushes him away and grabs Hope’s hand. “Let’s run before they change their minds.” Trinity giggles, hauling Hope out the door. I paste on a smile as I walk the girls out. My gimpy brother doesn’t share my lazy grin as we send the girls off in Trinity’s jeep. As soon as they’re out of sight, he storms back in the house. “When did we turn into such whipped pussies?” he snaps. “No way should we be letting our women out dressed like that.” Oh boy. I’m laughing so hard, I can’t even respond. “Something you want to share?” Realizing what he’s said, he clams up and grabs a bottle of Jack from behind the bar. He points at the couch. “I’ll be over there until they get back. You better stay sober in case they need anything. Not like I can drive anywhere.” Christ, this is good. I smile at the distraction, then head back into the war room to finish up what I was working on before the clubhouse gets too noisy.

I’m not good at being a girly-girl. Never have been. Neither is Trinity, but I think that’s why we’re having so much fun together. After chasing Wrath out of her room, we rifled through her closet until we found a royal blue dress she had hanging in the back. Holding it up against her, I smile. “This is it. Makes your eyes pop.” She slides her fingers over the material, almost reverently. “I haven’t worn it in years. I hope it still fits.” She ducks into the bathroom to try it on and shyly comes back out. “You think it’s okay?”

“Yeah, you look great.” Glancing down at her legs, she lets out a curse. “It’s kinda cold for bare legs. I don’t have any stockings. I never dress up.” “I’ve got plenty.” After discovering Rock’s fascination with my legwear, I’ve been hoarding tights like a squirrel stocks up on nuts for the winter. I dash upstairs and grab an unopened pair. Thinking she might want to wear boots, I grab both pairs I keep stashed here. We spend some more time fixing our hair, and Trinity helps me throw on some makeup. By the time we’re ready to leave, I’m buzzing with excitement. Sophie has sent me about a half dozen texts telling me to hurry my butt downtown. Seeing the looks on the guys’ faces when we enter the main room is worth all the time we spent getting ready. It takes some effort not to laugh my ass off. Then I get nervous that they might try to stop us from leaving. As much as it offends my independence streak, I recognize it’s a possibility. Trinity and I breathe sighs of relief when we’re finally in the jeep, bouncing down the road. Her jeep is badass. Bright, shiny blue with a matching hard top, four doors, and big knobby tires. “This thing is awesome, Trinity.” She glances over at me with a shy smile. “It’s really the club’s. Rock wanted me to have four-wheel drive when I moved up here. He makes sure I get a new one every couple of years.” Then she adds quickly, “Since I do the shopping and stuff for the club.” Turning that over in my head, I’m not sure how I feel about it. Basically, she’s saying my boyfriend buys her a new car every couple years. It’s a little fucking weird, honestly. I’m not exactly jealous, but once again, I’m reminded of my outsider status. Damn, I didn’t want things to be awkward between us, and now we’ve kind of run out of things to talk about. “Tell me how you met Sophie and Lilly,” Trinity asks. Smiling at the memory, I tell Trinity about the first week of law school when Sophie and I met. After a while, I’m afraid I’m boring her, so I wind up. Glancing in her rear view, Trinity’s mouth quirks. “We have an escort.” “What?” I ask, twisting in my seat to look out the back window. “It’s probably Birch or Hoot just making sure we’re okay. You didn’t honestly think prez would let us wander around downtown by ourselves?” Well, yeah, I did. A few months ago I might have been outraged, but I understand Rock’s hyperprotectiveness better now. Especially after the epic crash we took. Honestly, given the crap I suspect his club is involved in, I should probably demand an escort everywhere I go. A question forms in my mind. It’s not fair to ask Trinity, but it pops out anyway. “Do you know what kind of stuff the club is involved in?” Even though my voice is soft, the question seems to boom inside the quiet interior. A pained look flashes over Trinity’s face, and I feel like a jerk for putting her in

an awkward position. While we might be becoming friends, I know damn well her loyalty is to the club first. They’ve taken care of her for a long time. Even if she knows something, she’s not going to share it with me. By asking, I may have just squelched our budding friendship. “Club doesn’t share stuff like that with me, Hope. You should ask Rock.” I have asked. Indirectly. Here and there. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you.” “It’s okay. You’re not the typical biker’s ol’ lady.” “Yeah, I know,” I sigh, and want to pinch myself for sounding so pathetic. She glances at me. “I don’t mean it in a bad way. Rock’s not the typical MC President. You’re good for him.” “Thanks.” We move onto less serious topics for the rest of the drive. I direct Trinity to the parking lot Sophie told us to use right off the highway. As planned, we meet up with Sophie and Lilly on the top level. “Finally!” Sophie screeches while pulling me into a tight hug. A pang of guilt taps my belly for keeping them waiting. Lilly gives me a quick hug. Trinity hangs back watching us, so I grab her hand and pull her forward to make the introductions. She seems surprised when I introduce her as my friend. Lilly takes in Trinity with narrowed eyes but doesn’t say anything other than hello. I wonder what that’s about, but figure I’ll let it go for now. Trin may know how to handle herself at the MC and during a gunfight, but she seems a little out of place here, so I feel protective of her. No one followed us to the top of the garage, so I wonder where our escort disappeared to. Not wanting to alert Lilly and Sophie, I don’t ask Trinity. As we walk, I take out my phone and send Rock a quick text letting him know we made it downtown safe. When I slip my phone back into my purse, I catch Trinity’s eye and she gives me a nod. The Red Room is packed. People like us, who stopped in before the show. Groupies hoping to run into band members. The way we’re dressed, we fit right in. Sliding into a corner stool at the bar, Sophie orders a round of tequila shots. “No fucking way. You know what that shit does to me,” Lilly grumbles. After throwing her head back and laughing, Sophie answers. “Who said any of them were for you?” Oh boy. It’s going to be that kind of night. Trinity is quiet. Assessing my friends, I guess. A table near the back opens up, and we snag it. “So, how tight are you with Z?” Lilly asks after we place our dinner orders. Trinity slips on a placid face before answering. “I’ve known him for a long time.” Lilly narrows her eyes. “You fuck him?”

“Lilly!” I gasp and smack her arm. Sophie gives her friend the side eye as well. Trinity’s mouth twists down. “Not lately,” she finally answers. Okay, wow. I had not been expecting that at all. Lilly gives a curt nod. “He fuck around the MC a lot?” Trinity cocks her head. “Why are you so curious?” Sitting back in her seat, Lilly fiddles with her napkin before answering. “We hooked up. He keeps calling. I just want to know if he’s worth the effort, or if he’s full of shit.” Trinity sighs and glances at me. “Besides club girls, I’ve never seen him with the same chick twice. That’s all I can really tell you.” I’m not sure in what world that information is helpful, or positive, but it seems to appease Lilly. For now. When the crowd starts to thin, we follow the herd down the street to the arena. The cavernous building echoes from thousands of excited voices finding their seats, pumped up for Afterlife. This show is a lot more subdued and organized because the arena is better staffed. We are thoroughly searched on the way in. Sophie surprises us with box seats. Her company was nice enough to let her use their box for the show. Apparently her firm doesn’t have any other metalheads. We even have a stocked minibar, which Sophie violates almost immediately. The show’s good. Although the box seats are nice, it’s not as much fun as being up close to the stage, but it is safer. That makes me think of Rock. He’d be happy that we’re up here. Away from danger. I send him a text to let him know. Good, is all I get in return. Afterward, one of the band’s crew members stops by to invite us backstage. Apparently Sophie knows people everywhere she goes. Curious, Trinity and I tag along. Sophie greets a tiny redhead after we pass through a second round of security who walks us backstage. I gather from their conversation she’s a band member’s girlfriend and she and Sophie have met on one of Jonny’s tours. “You okay with this?” I ask Trinity. She shrugs. “Sure. I wouldn’t mind meeting Chase. He’s fucking hot.” I giggle at that. While the band members are definitely sexy, young studs, they don’t really hold a candle to our big, manly bikers. Not in my mind anyway. In the green room, Sophie’s friend, Sydney, introduces us to the guitar player and lead singer. Trinity is definitely digging the singer, Chase, which I find hilarious. He’s tall and well-muscled, but in a lean way, completely the opposite of Wrath. We do our fangirl thing—asking for a photograph—and the band humors us. Sophie seems ready to smack me for not acting cool, but I’m having too much fun to care. As the atmosphere changes from fun to rowdy, I realize I’m tired and would

rather be in my boyfriend’s arms than with a bunch of strangers searching for a backstage hook-up. I tap Sophie on the shoulder. “We’re going to get going. You two okay?” One corner of her mouth turns down. “Party pooper.” “I know. I suck. Forgive me?” “Yeah, I’d want to rush home too if I had a hunk of man like yours waiting for me.” “Where’s Jonny?” She rolls her eyes. “Texas, I think. I’m taking a few weeks off when his tour is over. Going to see if we can make things work.” “Good. You know he’s nuts about you.” “Yeah, I know.” Trinity edges closer and bumps me with her hip. “Ready?” “Yup.” After a round of hugs, Trinity and I head out of the backstage area. “Hey, Trinity,” a thick, rough voice calls from behind us. She whirls around. “Oh, shit. Hey, Blue.” A big, round brute of a man ambles up to us. He gives me a thorough visual fondle before turning to Trinity. “Enjoy the show?” “Oh yeah, it was great. What are you doing here?” “Working security.” “Cool. Oh, this is Rock’s ol’ lady, Hope. Hope, Blue used to bounce at CB.” “Oh, hi.” “Where you ladies parked?” “The garage on Second Street.” He nods and gives the backstage area a once-over. “I’ll walk you girls out.” “You don’t have to do that,” I protest. He takes each of us by the elbow and leads us outside. Trinity’s mouth quirks. “Just go with it, Hope. If I had to guess, Rock called him and asked him to keep an eye on us.” Blue smirks, but doesn’t admit or deny. Sonofabitch. I’ll admit, I’m impressed with how far Rock’s reach is. Once we’re safely on our way back, Trinity giggles. “Birch is back. Let’s outrun him.” “Yeah, I wouldn’t mind surprising them at the clubhouse.” She glances over. “You trust Rock, don’t you? I swear, Hope, I’ve known him for a long time now, and I’ve never seen him crazy about a woman the way he is with you.” “So I keep hearing.” Trinity snorts. “I get it. Believe me.” Punching the gas, we rocket forward, and cut over two lanes to take the next exit. Gripping the “oh shit” handle, I suck air in through my teeth. “Geez, Trinity.” She giggles, but eases off the gas.

After a while we’re alone on the long, winding road to the clubhouse. “I meant what I said, Hope.” With the surrounding darkness and the hum of the knobby wheels over the rough country road, I’d been halfway to snoozeville. “What’s that?” “Rock. He’s protective of the whole family, you know. But the girls he used to…” she pauses as I think she searches for a term that won’t offend me “… hang with. They were out of sight, out of mind. Not that he’s ever been cruel, but unless we had bad shit going down with a rival club or something, he didn’t put tails on them. He didn’t really give any of them a second thought once he was done with them.” I get that Trinity, in her own sweet way, is trying to make me feel better, but the information actually makes me want to barf. “I’m making it worse, aren’t I?” she asks with a nervous chuckle. “Kinda.” Once we pull in the gate, the place is alive with people. Trinity ends up parking down the hill, and we hike up to the clubhouse. We find a nice surprise waiting for us—Rock and Wrath sitting outside talking. Not a club girl in sight. Hurrying over, I throw myself in Rock’s arms before he even realizes we’re there. “Holy—” I cut him off with a fierce kiss. Behind me, Trinity giggles and Wrath groans. Cradling my face in his palms, Rock traces his tongue along my lower lip, dipping into my mouth with a soft lash of his tongue. Suddenly, I wish we were upstairs instead of standing outside in front of everyone. As our kiss deepens, I hear the front door open and slam shut. Pulling back a fraction, I notice we’re now alone outside. Rock strokes his fingers over my cheek. “Have fun, Baby Doll?” “Yes, but I missed you,” I say breathlessly while looking up at his handsome face. A knowing grin curves his sexy lips. “I missed you too.” “You had eyes on us, though, didn’t you?” I ask, striving to keep my voice even. “You mad?” He’s wary, but unapologetic. I sigh and glance down at my hands, which are still covered in healing scrapes from the accident. “No. I appreciate how much you care.” His body relaxes. Even in the garish glow provided by the outdoor floodlights, I get a little lost in his storm-gray eyes, the sharp lines of his jaw, and the sensual curve of his lips. His look is equally hungry, and I never tire of the way he makes me feel. Beautiful, cherished, sexy. “Take me upstairs, Rochlan. Do filthy things to me.” His eyebrow quirks, and a grin curves his mouth. “You’re bossy tonight.” “You love it.” “That I do.” Lacing our fingers together, he walks me inside.

I unglue my gaze from Hope’s sexy fucking lips long enough to get us inside and up to my room. Even her scent, crisp autumn air mixed with her natural sweet fragrance, short-circuits my brain tonight. Christ, I’m fucked up if I can’t stand being away from this woman for more than a couple hours. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest. She tosses her jacket on the leather chaise, and I still her with hands on her shoulders. “Any ass-grabbers tonight?” I ask. “Not yet,” she teases back. “Babe, you have no idea.” She blushes and bends over to unzip her boots. “Uh-uh,” I scold from behind her. “I can’t believe I let you go out of the house dressed in so little.” From here, I see her shoulders tense. She’s about to ream me out for the “let you” part. “Can’t help it, Hope. You’re too fucking sexy.” As I turn her toward me, I see the blush creeping up her neck. I love how shy my woman is. It takes a lot to work her up, but when she finally lets go, it’s so fucking beautiful. Eventually she relaxes and the shyness melts away. Brushing her hair over her shoulder, I lean down to press kisses along her exposed neck. Someone bangs on our door, interrupting my filthy plans to ruin another pair of her stockings. Stalking to the door, I throw it open to find an anxious Teller. “I’m sorry, prez. I just got a call from Heidi. Our grandmother had a heart attack or something. Ambulance is taking her to the hospital. I had a little too much to drink earlier…” he trails off. “Yeah, okay.” “I can’t find Murph or I wouldn’t bug you guys.” His mouth twists into a grimace. “And Trinity’s busy with…Wrath.” Christ. “Give me a sec, okay?” Hope comes up behind me, nudging the door open wider. “You okay, Teller?” “Yeah, just shaken up. Heidi sounded terrified.” Hope reaches out and squeezes his arm. “I’ll come with.” Teller takes a deep breath and flashes a quick smile. “Thanks, Hope. I appreciate it.” Huh. Apparently my brother finds Hope more comforting in a family crisis than

me. Go figure. “I’ll, uh, go wait downstairs.” Hope watches him weave down the hall before turning to me. “Just let me change out of this dress.” I groan as my plans for unlacing that sexy-as-fuck dress with my teeth go up in flames. She’s all business as she steps into her closet, quickly works the laces loose, and lifts the dress up, tossing it on the floor. She bends over to unzip her boots, and I groan again at the sight of her in nothing but a black bra and the black pantyhose. I need to get a grip, or we’re never going to make it to the hospital. Turning in the opposite direction, I head to the bathroom, where I splash some cold water over my face and clean up. When I re-enter the bedroom, Hope’s dressed in faded jeans, a club sweatshirt and boots. “Ready?” I ask. “Yup,” she chirps back. I grab my own sweatshirt and we head downstairs. Hope tugs my hand, pulling me to a stop before the staircase. I turn, a “what” forming on the tip of my tongue, when she reaches up and kisses my cheek. Her lips brush against my ear. “I left the tights on under my jeans.” “Fuuuck,” I groan. “What are you trying to do to me?” She lets out a giggle and races down the stairs ahead of me. Teller’s sitting on the couch alone, head in his hands. He glances up when he hears us. “I’m so sorry, guys.” Hope hurries over and takes his hand. “You know we’d go with you no matter what, Teller.” “Thanks.” The ride to the hospital seems to take forever. There’s not a lot to say. Heidi calls with an update, and even up front I hear the panic in her voice. “Marcel!” she yells and runs to her brother as soon as we get there. He gives her a big, brotherly hug as she breaks into sobs. “I’m sorry,” she cries. “For what, Bug? It’s a good thing you were there to call for help.” She shakes her head and buries herself against his chest again. Axel strides in next. Poor kid looks completely unsure of what to do. But he’s here for Heidi, and I respect that. A nurse ushers us into the waiting room so we’re not jamming up her hallway. Heidi sees Axel and bursts into tears again. He gives her a hug, but is clearly uncomfortable showing her affection in front of her brother and me. Good. Heidi finally notices Hope, and her face twists. While I talk to the guys, Heidi edges toward Hope. Eventually, they get up and leave the room together.

Something is bothering Heidi. But she’s not going to spill with her brother and Rock in the same room. As soon as we’re out of their eyesight, she bursts into tears again. “Hope, it’s all my fault,” she whispers. “Honey, I’m sure that’s not true.” She glances back at the waiting room. “Grandma caught me sneaking in the house, and we had a fight. I went to my room and heard her stomping around and yelling downstairs. Then all of a sudden she was quiet. I figured, good, she finally shut up.” Big, fat tears slide down her face. “After a while, it just seemed too quiet, so I went downstairs. Hope, she must have passed out, and I just let her lay there…” She trails off as she breaks into more tears. Poor Heidi. “Honey, it’s not your fault. You did go check on her. And you called the ambulance. She’s getting treatment now. It’s okay.” “It’s my fault, though. If she hadn’t caught me—” “Were you with Axel, honey?” She slides a guilty look toward the waiting room. “Not exactly.” I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean and it’s not really important, so I let it go. “Am I going to get in trouble, Hope?” I resist the urge to grin at her question. “No, honey. Why would you think that?” “Cause we had that fight—” “Did it turn physical?” Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head violently. “God, no. It’s just that…I know she has a heart problem, and I snapped back at her when she called me names.” The picture I’m getting of what life is like with Heidi’s grandmother is unpleasant and a little too reminiscent of my own teenage years. My heart goes out to this motherless girl, who while a little wild, is still very sweet. “No, honey. You’re not in trouble. It’s normal to fight with family members sometimes.” “Please don’t tell my brother. He’s going to be so pissed at me. Gram’s already furious with him because of the custody thing, and now this...” Now it’s my turn to have a guilty moment. I’m also aware the woman has some health problems. I’m sure the legal dispute hasn’t helped. Murphy stalks into the hospital, coming straight at us. “I got your message, Heidi-bug. You okay?”

Her nose twitches at the nickname, and I hold back a laugh. “Yeah, thanks for coming.” “Hey, First Lady.” Murphy nods his head at me. “Prez with you?” I tilt my head toward the waiting room. “He’s in there with Teller and Axel.” His eyes narrow at hearing Axel’s name, but he doesn’t comment. “Need anything, Bug?” Heidi shakes her head. When we’re alone again, I give Heidi another hug. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart, okay? Why don’t we join the others and wait for news?” “Okay. Thank you, Hope.” “You’re welcome, sweetie.” The guys break up their conversation when we reenter the room. Rock holds his hand out, and Heidi accepts a quick squeeze. “Thanks for bringing my brother down, Uncle Rock.” “No problem, Heidi-girl.” She grins when he doesn’t add her hated nickname. “How’d you get here, Bug?” Murphy asks. Her gaze darts between Axel and Murphy. Finally she settles into the chair next to her boyfriend, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Ambulance.” “I’ll give you a lift home later,” Murphy says. “I got her, bro,” Axel asserts. Murphy acts as if Axel hadn’t even spoken. So much for Murphy not being into Heidi. I wonder if he’s going to freak out when he discovers she was sneaking around with Axel. Shaking my head, I decide none of this is my problem. Rock pats the chair next to him, and I drop into it with a sigh. His hand slides under my hair to massage my neck. “Rough night, Baby Doll.” “Yeah.” We don’t have to wait too much longer. A nurse comes in and informs us that Mrs. Whelan is stable. She’s going to be out for the night, so the nurse urges everyone to go home and return in the morning. Teller gets up and gives Rock a fist bump. “I’ll catch a ride with Murphy, prez. Thanks for staying.” Rock stands up and pulls Teller in for a quick man-hug. “You need anything, call me. Don’t care what time it is.” “Promise.” Rock turns to me. “Mind staying at my house, instead of driving back to the club?” I mentally run over what I have stashed at Rock’s house. “Sure, that’s fine.” Rock scans the group. “Anyone need a lift?” Axel and Heidi are standing apart from the group holding hands. Murphy watches them from his seat and doesn’t even glance up at Rock’s question. Teller kicks Murphy’s leg to grab his attention. “We cool, bro?”

“Yeah, man. You ready to leave?” “Yeah.” He turns to Axel and Heidi. “Axel, you want to follow us? I’m gonna stay at Gram’s with bug tonight.” “Yeah, okay. I got her.” “Cool, let’s go.” Teller punches Murphy’s shoulder, and he finally gets up. Rock and I walk ahead of the group. We reach our car first and say our good nights to everyone. “Well, that was awkward,” I say with a snicker as soon as Rock closes his door. “What?” “Murphy. What’s his deal with Axel?” Rock gives me one of his “are you kidding” looks. “Axel’s a good kid. I hate to break it to Murphy, but I think Heidi really is over her crush on him.” “Duh. I wanted to marry a Backstreet Boy, when I was twelve.” Laughter echoes through the interior. “I have no words, Hope.” “I aim to entertain.” He starts up the car and points us toward his house. “What’d you talk about with Heidi?” “Oh, she was worried this was all her fault because she got into an argument with her grandmother tonight.” “Poor kid. This shit has been rough on her.” “Does anyone know where her mom is?” “Nah. We tried helping Teller track her down for a long time. Nothing ever came of it.” “That’s awful. I know she’s a handful sometimes, but she’s basically a good kid.” “I know.” We’re quiet the rest of the way. Me because my brain is trying to work out how this hospitalization is going to affect my legal case. Terrible, I know. But I can’t help it. I also realize there’s a possibility their grandmother may need the sort of round-the-clock care that only a nursing home can provide. Custody should automatically go to Teller then— “We’re home, babe,” Rock says, breaking into my thoughts. A loud yawn escapes me. “You okay?” “Yeah, just trying to work out how this will affect the case.” Rock squints at me, probably thinking I’m an insensitive jerk. Instead of chastising me for my callousness, he squeezes my hand. “Thanks for caring about them so much.” “Of course.” “I mean it. Teller and Heidi are like family.” “I know.” “Known Heidi since she was a little kid.” Goosebumps work over my arms. Rock’s such a softy underneath all his hard

exterior. “I’ll go in early tomorrow to do a little research and make some phone calls.” “Tomorrow is Saturday, babe.” His hand reaches over and squeezes my thigh. “Besides, I think you mentioned something before about what you’re wearing underneath these jeans?” Suddenly legal work is the furthest thing from my mind.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“H ey, Hope. This yours?” Z asks as he’s walking into the clubhouse dining room

for breakfast. I glance at the cell phone he pushes my way. “Yeah. Where was it?” A careless lift of his shoulders. “Found it in the couch cushions.” Not surprising. I’m always losing my cell phone. And since I usually keep it on silent so it doesn’t go off when I’m in court, it’s almost impossible to find it. “Thanks.” Z throws a smirk at me and heads into the kitchen. Rock slips his hand over mine and gives it a squeeze. “What are your plans for today?” It’s Monday, and since he convinced me the stuff with Teller’s grandmother could wait until today, he knows damn well I am planning to go into the office. I slant a look at him, and his mouth quirks. “What are your plans?” I ask instead of giving him a verbal answer. I get a side-eye in return. That’s right. Rock is always up in my business, but I have no idea about anything he does if it’s “for the club.” Whatever. “Actually, I have to take care of a few things at CB today.” My nose wrinkles, which he catches. He lets out a soft chuckle. “It’s closed today, babe. That’s why I’m going.” See, that doesn’t make me feel any better. If it was crawling with dancers, he’d have a hard time saying no? “Hey, what’s that face for?” he asks against my ear. His lips brushing over the sensitive skin there sends a shiver through me. “Nothing,” I whisper. Before this conversation can go any further, we’re interrupted by Z and Trinity coming out of the kitchen. They’re playfully arguing over something. She’s carrying a tray with her and doesn’t stop to sit with us. “Stop fucking babying him, Trin,” Rock teases as she goes by. She laughs but doesn’t say anything else.

Z shakes his head as he sits down. “Those two.” Rock snorts in agreement. “Did Teller stay up here last night?” I ask, hoping one of them will know. “Nah, he’s still staying with Bug.” “Good.” “She’s already in lawyer mode,” Rock jokes while jerking his head at me. Z chuckles. “You’re a good girl, Hope.” “Thanks, I think.” He laughs even harder. I’ve found it’s difficult to offend Z. He’s a regular ray of sunshine compared to Wrath. “Alright, I need to get going.” I push my chair out and grab my dishes. Rock stops me. “Leave it. I’ll take care of it.” I arch an eyebrow at him. “You will, or you’ll have Trinity do it?” Z bursts out laughing. Rock’s jaw works, but a smile is hovering at the corners of his mouth. I lean over and brush a kiss against his cheek. His hand locks around my wrist, pulling me closer. “Give me a real kiss, baby,” he says. “Please don’t,” Z begs, reminding me that we have an audience. Rock shoots him a dirty look and stands, yanking me against his chest. “You stopping home first?” “Yes. I need to change.” I wave my free hand that isn’t trapped between our bodies over my jeans and sweatshirt. He turns and tucks me against his side to walk me out. “You need to grab anything from upstairs?” “No, I’m good.” He sighs in disapproval. “Why are you trying to get me—” Oh. The carnal look on his face can’t really be ignored. Especially when he pushes me inside the champagne room. “Hey—” I protest, but it’s quickly cut off by his mouth on mine.

Even though it’s indirectly my fault she has to go, I’m not ready for Hope to leave. It’s ridiculous because after she got me so worked up Friday night, we spent a large portion of the weekend in bed. No matter how many times we fuck, I can’t seem to get enough of her. Probably

because what we have is so much more than fucking. If she doesn’t need to go upstairs, the champagne room is my next best option. It will definitely be empty this early on a Monday morning. Picking Hope up, I pin her to the wall just inside the door. “What are you doing?” she asks breathlessly against my mouth. I lean into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent before answering. “Well, I’m not giving you a lap dance.” I was aiming for light and teasing, but it comes out tense and strangled. Hope’s eyes go wide, but her mouth curves in a sexy smile. “What if someone walks in?” “Doll, no one is coming in here.” But to make her feel better, I reach over and flip the lock. To do it, I need to pin her to the wall with my hips. Her head falls back against the wall with a soft thump from the extra friction. I take a second to let my eyes travel over her body. Flushed cheeks, erect nipples—visible even through the heavy fabric of her sweatshirt every time she takes a heaving breath. Damn. The sight of how turned on she is already has me harder than steel-reinforced concrete and aching with an almost violent need to fuck her. First, I need to set her down and strip her pants off. As I release her, she slides down the wall and her eyes flare in surprise. Gripping her hips, I walk/push her to the couch lining one side of the room. I’m almost frantic trying to figure out which way I want to take her first. Finally, I sit down and pull her to me. My hands go straight for her jeans and begin working them down her legs. She gives me a soft sigh of anticipation and kicks her pants off after I work them past her knees. “Shirt, baby,” I tell her. It drops to the floor in a soft whoosh of fabric. Her hands immediately go to my shirt next, and my dick jumps. I love that she’s just as crazed to see me as I am to see her. I crook a finger at her and free my aching dick from my jeans. Without a word, she plants one knee next to me and steadies herself on my shoulders. Looking into my eyes, she centers herself. “Rochlan?” “Yes, doll?” I manage to choke out. “I love you.” For some reason, her voice breaks and she seems close to tears. Stroking my hands over her back, I guide her to my cock. “Baby, I love you too. So much.” Once she’s perfectly lined up, she sinks down slowly. Hot breath hisses out between her clenched teeth and over my cheek. My hand grips her hip, kneading her soft flesh. Across the way, the mirror gives me a fantastic view. The graceful lines of her back, the cute little dimples above her perfect ass, her long hair swishing against her pale skin. “You’re fucking beautiful.” My hand threads into her hair, pulling her down for

a kiss. Wrapping my arms around her tight, I slam my cock up into her. A groan tears out of my throat. “I can see you in the mirror, Hope. See everything. Beautiful.” She whimpers against my neck and struggles to turn, but I hold her tight. Now’s not the time for my girl to get shy. Our skin slaps together, quick and furious. Hope’s gone. Writhing above me, moaning, squeezing me so fucking tight. She’s making little mindless noises as I keep drilling up into her. She stills, a soundless scream on her lips, and I feel my own orgasm boiling through me. My lips find hers, and her fingers tunnel through my hair, sending shivers up and down my spine. I’m not thrilled as I watch her dress a few minutes later. She catches the look on my face, and the corner of her mouth kicks up. “See, if you hadn’t interfered in my business and made me take their case, I could spend the day with you.” It’s clear she’s only teasing, but her words still make me pause. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not some backwards asshole who’s going to take a smart, driven woman like Hope and attempt to turn her into my mindless sex slave—as appealing as that might sound. So no, it’s off to work for her. “I’ve kept you long enough, doll.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

F illing out the Order to Show Cause, getting it signed by a judge and filed with the

court, takes up most of my morning. I’m feeling very accomplished by the time everything is in place. Teller calls to let me know they are not releasing his grandmother any time soon, so it’s a good thing I’ve gotten the ball rolling. Adam bounds into my office a little before noon. “Hey. I got called into court this afternoon. Want to take my place at a CLE?” I’m woefully short on credits, but the thought of sitting through some boring legal education class all afternoon is very unappealing. “Come on, your buddy, Judge Oak is one of the lecturers. It’s already paid for.” “Oh, okay. I need the credits. How much do I owe you?” He waves his hand in the air. “I just don’t want it to go to waste. Starts at one, so you might want to head down now.” Dammit. Packing up my stuff, I grab a granola bar and head downtown. Miraculously, I find a parking spot right in front of the building where the class is. The woman in charge of checking us in hassles me a bit as I try to explain I’m taking Adam’s place. Judge Oak comes over to say hello and smooths things over for me. “Thank you, Damon.” “No problem. Good to see you.” “Is Mara coming?” It would be nice to be able to sit with someone I know. He chuckles and shakes his head. “No. She refuses to come to my lectures any more.” Crap. Feeling supremely awkward and out of place, I grab a seat near the back of the small classroom. Too late, I realize it’s a panel of four lecturers. They’ve got Judge Oak, a public defender, a district attorney from Empire County, and a criminal defense attorney who is in private practice. My eyes almost bug out of my head when I see who the defense attorney is. Tony Cain. Former Slater County District Attorney. The guy I went up against when I represented Rock in his last drug possession case. The case where he humiliated me in court by asking to have another lawyer represent him.

Before we were together. Before my husband died. Horrible, sickening sensations slither through my belly as I remember that day. All of my thoughts and emotions are tangled together with my feelings of grief over Clay’s death. My guilt over my inappropriate feelings toward Rock at the time. I end up not hearing much of the two-hour class. In a hurry to leave afterward, I don’t bother to say goodbye to Damon. He’s surrounded by sycophant attorneys peppering him with questions, and I don’t have the patience to get in line. I want to go home and crawl into bed. To my utter confusion, I find Rock waiting outside for me, casually leaning up against my car. His gaze flicks up and down the street, keeping an eye out for me, I assume. Is this a coincidence? Whatever it is, I’m already so rattled from the Tony Cain sighting that the first thing I do is snap at Rock. “What the hell are you doing here?” A frown settles over his face as he turns to look at me. “What’s wrong, Hope?” No, I’m not going to be dissuaded by his handsome face or his sexy damn mouth. “Why are you here?” He cocks his head as if it’s an absurd question. “I wanted to see you.” “How did you know I was here?” He pauses. Something flashes in his eyes, but I can’t fathom what it is. Finally, he reaches out and pulls me to him. “Your calendar,” he answers. My head is aware this can’t be true, but my body is distracted by his lips on mine. Before I can question him further, I’m wrapped in his arms, snuggled against him. The lingering bad feelings from the lecture melt away as I take shelter in his arms. “Rock?” We’re rudely interrupted, and I jump back. It finally dawns on me how embarrassing it is to be making out with my boyfriend when about forty of my colleagues are about to empty out of the building behind me. Why do I have so little self-control around him? The unease on Rock’s face surprises me. I’ve never seen him look uneasy in any situation. I turn to see who interrupted us, and almost fall down when I realize it’s Tony Cain. His eyes skip right over me as his mouth breaks into a grin. They perform a manly handshake ritual that suggests a certain familiarity. The kind of handshake people who know each other in a personal, friendly way do, immediately setting off alarm bells in my head. “Hey, Tony. How are you?” Rock asks evenly. “Good, man, just got done teaching a class. What the hell are you doing down here?”

Rock jerks his chin in my direction, and Tony finally glances over. He’s having trouble placing me. I haven’t seen the guy in at least two years, so that’s not surprising. The Capital Region is, after all, crawling with attorneys. Finding some glimmer of professionalism, I stick out my hand. “Hope Kendall. I just took your class, Mr. Cain.” Now he seems to recognize me, and his gaze darts back to Rock. “Nice to see you again, Ms. Kendall. I hope you got a lot out of the class.” “Oh, absolutely,” I answer with a straight face. “It’s been quite an education.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Tony motherfucking Cain.

Fuck me. Of all the times to run into my childhood friend, now is the least appropriate. Hope seems ready to murder my ass, and I am not looking forward to the questions she’s going to fire at me the second we’re alone. He slaps me on the shoulder. “Call me so we can catch up. Things are good?” I nod. “Yeah, things are good.” Or they were good until this whole situation happened. We wrap up our conversation, and as he walks away, Hope starts edging toward her car. Away from me. From where I’m standing, I see she’s shaking. This time, it’s not from desire. Not even fear. It’s rage. I see it in her wide green eyes that are drilling into me with a million accusations. “Hope—” “Don’t,” she spits out. I didn’t have the good sense to park my bike in front of her car this time. She’s inside and gunning the engine within seconds. Deciding this isn’t the best place for a scene, I let her go. But I’m not far behind. I track her down at her office. Thankfully, it looks like Adam is gone for the day. I don’t have a key for the back entrance, so I jog down the front steps and ring the bell. I end up leaning on it for quite a while before Hope’s furious face appears on the other side of the glass. The door swings open, and she lets me in. Well, really, I push my way in. “Let me explain.” She folds her arms over her chest and takes a step back. “How do you know Tony?” She shoots at me. “We grew up together. He lived down the street from me.” “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Her voice zips up a few octaves. “Why was he prosecuting your case?” I shrug, not quite sure how to explain. I’ve given her a vague outline, that I fired

her as my attorney publicly so the Vipers would lose interest in her. I never got into the fact that Tony rigged the case at my request. After everything we’ve gone through since then, it seemed pointless to go into the whole mess. “Hope—” “Tell me something. Did Tony renege on the deal because you asked him to?” “Yes.” She blows out an irritated breath. “Do you know how many times I used to go over that whole horrible day in my head? Wondering what I did wrong? How I fucked it up so royally bad that you had an excuse to fire me on the spot in front of everyone? You know I stopped practicing criminal law because of that day?” Shit. “I know, honey. I’m sorry. I told you—” “Yeah. You told me about the war with your rival and cutting ties with me. I get that part. I didn’t realize you were responsible for tanking the deal, though. I didn’t realize the whole damn situation was a set up. I still doubt myself all the time because of that. Shit.” She focuses her eyes on me, and they’re so full of pain I caused, I can’t stand it. “Hope. I asked him to help. Originally, I’d asked him to dismiss the whole thing so it would look good for you and give your practice a little boost.” That was perhaps the very worst thing I could have said, because she goes nuclear. “Do you think my career is some sort of fucking game? Who the fuck do you think you are?” I thought I’d seen every side of Hope by now. I thought I’d seen her angry before. I was dead wrong. “My God, all this time, I thought I did something wrong. Missed something big. On top of that, I had all that fucking guilt and shame because of my feelings for you. But it was nothing more than some elaborate game of chess for you and Tony. Holy shit, am I stupid. Did you guys have a good laugh when you were done?” “Hope, it wasn’t like that at all. I hated doing that to you. I—” “Get out.” “Hope—” “Get. The. Fuck. Out. I can’t even look at you, let alone listen to any more of the bullshit that comes out of your mouth, Rock. Get out.” I hold my hands up in surrender. The last thing I want to do is leave, but she’s only getting more enraged and not willing to listen to reason. “Okay, we’ll talk later.” “No. We won’t.” She slams the door behind me hard enough to rattle the glass. Fuck.

I’m shaking so hard after I finally get Rock to leave that I stumble. Kicking off my heels and hurling them down the hallway doesn’t make me feel any better. I manage to stagger into my office before I dissolve into a puddle of tears. Deep, ragged sobs tear out of my chest. I’m so damn hurt and confused. I sink onto the floor and replay that day in my head. The bits I haven’t blocked out. Rock giving me shit the day before about the one year of probation. Tony giving me that long lecture about Rock’s motorcycle gang. All of it gimmicks and lies. I snort at the irony of Tony Cain being just as much of a crook as Rock. I gotta admit, my faith in the criminal justice system and my entire profession has taken a huge hit today. Give my practice a boost. More like some scheme to get in my pants. Damn, I’m an idiot. Christ, were those charges even real to begin with? Or was it more manipulation to “help” my career? I remember the day outside of family court when Winter’s ex assaulted me. One of the cops knew Rock pretty damn well. Rock has friends everywhere. After the tears stop, I realize what’s driving my anger is how humiliated and stupid I feel. That’s going to take some time to get over. It seems like forever before I finally pick myself up off the floor. A quick step in the hallway and I retrieve my shoes. I sit behind my desk and enter in my CLE credits so I don’t forget about them when the time comes to renew my license. The sound of the front door opening startles me. I swear to God if it’s fucking Rock, I’m going to choke him out. Why didn’t I remember to lock the damn door? I was too busy having my pride stomped on by a pair of size thirteen steel-toed boots, that’s why. Since I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s Rock, I don’t bother slipping my shoes back on. Instead, I tear ass into the hallway. “Rock, I can’t deal with this now. You need—” It’s Mr. Greybell. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, Mr. Greybell. I thought you were someone else.” He cocks his head, and his eyes roam over me in a distinctly creepy manner I don’t care for. He stops at my bare feet. The intensity of his gaze makes me wiggle my toes into the flat, industrial carpet.

“Uh, Adam isn’t here right now.” His eyes finally leave my feet, but travel back up my legs before answering. “That’s okay. I came to see you.” “Me?” “I wanted to ask you to have dinner with me.” I bite down on the tip of my tongue to stop the “hell fucking no” from escaping. The guy creeps me out something fierce, but I don’t want to be rude. “Oh, Mr. Greybell, that’s very nice of you to ask, but I think I mentioned I have a boyfriend.” A boyfriend I am dearly wishing I hadn’t chased away at the moment. Where is his overbearing, caveman ass when I need it?

Hope’s screams of “get the fuck out” keep echoing in my head, yet here I am, still sitting out in the parking lot. Waiting for her. I tell myself it’s only to make sure she gets home okay since she’s so upset. Hell, maybe that’s even the reason. Who knows? I do know that the flimsy building did a lousy job of concealing the sounds of her crying after I left. Her gut-wrenching sobs nearly tore me apart as I stood with my back against the wall of the building and listened. Everything in me said to go comfort her, but the small part of my brain that actually functions knew it was a bad idea. So, I wait. She quieted down after a while, and I went and sat on my bike next to her car. The spot gives me a prime view of the back entrance to the building, so I can spot her as soon as she comes out. Maybe we’ll talk when she leaves. Maybe she’ll yell at me some more. Maybe I’ll just end up following her home to make sure she gets there okay. I don’t know. I should have seen this coming. She’s told me plainly that she wants to hear the truth from me. Many times. There’s a lot of fucking truths I can’t give her. I could have given her this one. Honestly, it never occurred to me. Tony and I grew up together, sure. We keep in touch. We have a precise sort of give-and-take relationship. Sometimes we reminisce about the old days. Although we’ve got history, we’re polite, distant friends. He’s not someone I’d ever call “brother.” That title is reserved for my fellow Kings. When I need to call in a favor with Tony, it definitely costs me. I don’t trust him with my life. The fact that Hope still wrestles with that day burns me. I had no damn clue.

That she’s still suffering some guilt and grief about our relationship and her husband’s death doesn’t surprise me. That she connects all of it together does. My explanations for my behavior apparently only went so far. I’m really not sure how to fix this. A short, sharp scream interrupts my thoughts, and my head snaps up. My eyes focus on the building, as if that’s going to help me hear what’s going on inside any better. A crash and another short scream. Definitely Hope. The fuck? I tear ass to the front of the building, where there’s a sedan parked right in front, blocking the entire driveway. No fucking way for me to see it from where I’d been waiting. Rushing down the stairs, I muscle through the door, then pause.

“Mr. Greybell? Did you hear me? I appreciate your invitation, but I have a boyfriend. I actually need to meet him in a few minutes.” Somehow my fear makes that lie come out very smooth. Greybell is freaking me out with his blank stare and stiff posture. He seems to be contemplating something. I’m not sure what. Most likely I’d rather not know. Without tipping him off, I glance at my desk, trying to spot my cell phone. Not there. Did I leave it in my briefcase? I don’t have a phone at my desk, and I can’t easily make it into Adam’s office. After staring at me for much too long, he slips his hand in his pocket, withdrawing a folded up piece of paper. “I wanted to give you this,” he says with a slightly unhinged laugh. “What is it?” He holds it out to me, but I don’t really want to get any closer to him. Instead, I edge back into my office. My briefcase is on the floor, propped up against the side of my desk. I’m almost positive that’s where my phone is. Holding up one finger, I say, “Give me one second, David.” I dash into my office, plunging my hand into the outside pocket of my briefcase. Just as my fingers curl around my phone, David wraps his hand around my arm, yanking me to my feet. “Ow! Get off me!” I screech at the top of my lungs. For once, I’m grateful for the shitty soundproofing in this old building. Someone upstairs should be able to hear me screaming. “Shh. Shh. I just want to talk to you. I wrote this for you.” Why did I have to be so damn nice to this asshole? I should have thrown him out.

For a slender guy, he’s got an iron grip on my arm. He yanks me and then slams me into my desk. The front of my thighs dig painfully into the lip of my desk. My breasts and face are mashed into the hard wooden surface. I wish I kept my desk neater. There is definitely a ballpoint pen poking into my boob. I just know it’s going to leave a mark, ruining my shirt. What the hell is wrong with me? Greybell slides a piece of paper next to my face. My cheek is pressed so tight against the desk it’s hard to form words. “It’s kind of hard to read from this position, Mr. Greybell.” He doesn’t seem bothered by my sarcasm. “It’s a poem I wrote for you.” Oh geezus. I’m not sure what he plans to do with me. I’m not even sure if he has a plan. Despite the obscene position he’s forced me into, he hasn’t touched me inappropriately. Who am I kidding? Appropriate left the building a couple minutes ago. This guy needs psychiatric help. Like, locked up away from society kind of help. Locked up far away from me type of help. Harmless my ass. I’m going to kill Adam when I see him. I realize I’m making a whining noise. “Please stop, you’re hurting me.” The begging quality to my voice really ticks me off. He bends over me, pressing me even more painfully into the desk. I don’t even want to contemplate what is prodding my ass. If I ignore it, maybe it will go away. God dammit. Haven’t I been bitching to Rock repeatedly that I can take care of myself? Why am I letting this skinny little wacko do this to me? He doesn’t seem to have a weapon. Didn’t I take a self defense class once upon a time? The memory of which body parts to hit is fuzzy. Maybe that’s lack of oxygen. Foot stomp—yeah, that was definitely one of the spots. Damn, if only I had my shoes on. I make an attempt to stomp on his instep, but it’s futile. I can’t get enough leverage to raise my foot and end up banging my knee into the metal side of the desk and hurting my foot. For all my trouble, I don’t even think he even noticed. A noise reaches my ear. Someone’s in the office. Please let it be Rock. I’m so, so sorry for yelling at him. I hate that if I never see him again, that’s how we left things. No! “Get off me!” I scream with renewed purpose. At the same time, I throw my elbow back and connect with his soft gut. He jumps back enough for me to wriggle free. Then Rock is there, throwing Greybell to the floor. “Rock! Thank God!” I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life.

Pulling the pistol out of the holster at my back takes a second. I flip off the safety and hold the gun at my side. A thump. Sounds like a struggle. Hope’s voice. “Please stop, you’re hurting me.” I see motherfucking red. It takes every ounce of control I possess not to storm down the hallway and murder whoever made my girl say that. All sorts of thoughts go through me. Viper? How’d they connect me to Hope? Why here? Why now? One of the guys from the fight? Fuck. Does she have a tarp I can wrap the body in? Because there is no way this motherfucker is walking out of here alive. All these things race through my head as I inch down the hallway. Adam’s office is dark, but light pours into the hall from Hope’s office. Shadows waver over the carpet. Whispering that I can’t make out reaches my ears. Hope whines. Fuck caution. Inside her office, a guy I don’t recognize has her bent over and pinned to her desk. White-hot fucking rage slams through me at the sight. Only concern that I’ll accidentally shoot Hope makes me tuck the gun back in my pants. From this angle, I can’t tell if he has a weapon. I’m worried if I startle the fuck, he’ll end up seriously injuring her. “Get off me!” she screams, throwing an elbow back into the guy’s gut. He jumps back enough for me to tell he’s unarmed, and I hurl myself at him, grabbing him around the neck. Hope shakes free just in time, because the motherfucker is on the floor with my knee in his chest within seconds. “Rock! Thank God,” she gasps. She’s reaching for her cell phone. To call the police, I assume. “Wait.” I glance down at the scrawny fuck beneath me. “Who’re you with?” “What?” he gasps out. Leaning over so my knee grinds into his chest a little harder, I yank his shirt up to check his ink. No ink on his front. I push up his sleeves. No ink on his arms. I’m about to turn the sniveling fuck over when Hope’s hand clamps down on my shoulder, pulling me back. “He’s one of Adam’s clients, Rock. Don’t hurt him. I don’t think he’s well.”

No fucking shit he’s not well. He’s about to be really fucking unwell in a minute. The guy is sobbing under me now, chanting “I’m sorry” over and over again. Christ. I ease up my hold on the little fuck, then stand. “Move and I’ll shoot you,” I growl down at him.

With my heart hammering away, blood thundering through my ears, I almost don’t hear Rock threaten to shoot poor David. Poor David, my ass. My cell phone is still clutched in my hand, and I uncurl my fingers to hand it over to Rock. I’m shaking way too much to make any sense on the phone. He gives me a tortured look, as if calling the cops offends him on some basic level. A complex mish-mash of emotions forces me into hysterical giggles. Oh boy. He hates when his friends look at me in a way he thinks is inappropriate. “You okay, baby?” Rock asks as he curves his arm around my waist, pulling me tight to his side. I bury my face in his shoulder and nod. He shifts his body a bit. “Don’t test me, motherfucker,” he snarls. Then I hear the distinct sounds of him dialing 911. He gives them a brief, clipped version of the story, the address, and hangs up. I’m sure they loved that. After a few minutes, he squeezes me a little tighter. “You got any zip ties here?” “Huh?” I shake myself out of his arms, meeting his questioning eyes. Dropping my gaze, I take in Rock’s big-booted foot, pinning David to the floor. The corners of my mouth turn down. “Don’t,” he warns. “Is that really necessary?” His jaw clenches. “Yes. But my leg’s getting tired, so, you got any zip ties?” I shake my head because I’m not even sure what the hell he’s asking for. It’s moot anyway, because the banging at the front door signals Empire’s finest has arrived. Rock jerks his chin in the direction of the commotion. “Let them in.” Scurrying down the hall, I smooth my hands over my clothes, wincing at all the sore spots along my body. I take a few deep breaths and pray I won’t burst into tears and make a fool of myself in front of the cops.

Dealing with the bastards in blue wears down my last bit of patience for this entire day. The fucker questioning Hope at the moment is dangerously close to having my fist rammed down his throat. Especially if he insinuates one more time that she and that whimpering pile of shit were somehow “involved.” “Miss Kendall, maybe we should speak privately,” he suggests while throwing me a glance. Yeah, ‘cause I’m the problem. I honestly don’t care if I get carted off to county when I jab my finger in his chest, knocking him back a few steps. “You got a woman?” Fucker has the nerve to sneer at me. “Yeah, a fiancée.” “What would you have done if you walked in on her bent over a fucking desk, begging some creepy asshole to let her go, ‘cause he was hurtin’ her?” The cocky smirk slips off his face, replaced by something a little darker that I recognize and actually respect. “Thought so. Be fucking grateful my girl calmed me down. The way I wanted to handle this was very different.” He knocks my hand away from his chest. “I’m sure it was, Mr. North.” I can’t tell if he thinks he’s intimidating me or he actually agrees. Hope’s soft hand against my chest breaks my focus. “Rock, it’s okay,” she says softly. It is most certainly not okay. Nothing about this is okay. She turns her head, and in a stronger voice says, “Officer, I’ve told you everything I know. I only met Mr. Greybell once before. He’s attorney Braydon’s client. Adam assured me the guy was a little weird but not dangerous. I have no idea why he attacked me.” A prison psychologist once taught me these breathing exercises to calm myself down when the need to kill someone struck me. I’d never admit it, but they worked well enough to keep me from acting irrationally more than once in my life. I’m employing one of those techniques right this second, because Adam just walked in and I’m pretty sure if I kill Adam, Hope’s going to be pissed with me. “What the fuck is going on?” the cocky shit asks. Since I’m still busy counting to ten in my head, I let Officer Might-have-someballs answer Adam’s question. Hope shakes herself free from my hold and storms over to Adam. She’s still not wearing shoes so Adam’s got a good six inches on her, but it doesn’t stop her from smacking his arm. Or yelling at him. “Your harmless client fucking attacked me,

that’s what’s going on!” The look of worry, alarm, regret, whatever it is that passes over his face is probably the only thing that keeps him off my “people I need to kill” list. “Jesus Christ, are you okay, Hope?” He pulls her in for a quick hug, then pushes her away to look her over. Officer Dickface quirks an eyebrow at me, and I shrug. Adam’s gaze lands on me, and he groans. “Fuck, you’re not going to kill me, are you?” “Not today.” Hope glares at both of us. The officers who were in the back with Greybell walk him to the front door. They nod to Officer Dickwad. “Taking him in to process.” “Officer, is jail really appropriate? Maybe he should be sent to a hospital or something?” Hope asks. Good fucking God, what am I going to do with her? “Let his lawyer worry about that, Miss Kendall,” the officer says gently, then glances at Adam. “That you?” “No, sir, I’m an estate attorney. David, is there someone you want me to call?” Adam asks the piece of shit who attacked my woman. Okay, the fucker just earned himself an engraved spot on my list. The guy must be in shock, because he doesn’t answer or even acknowledge Adam. The cops shrug and lead him out the door, steering clear of me for some reason. “I’m taking her home,” I tell Officer Donutdick. He opens his mouth to protest, then thinks better of it. One look at Hope, and it’s clear why. Although she was ready to pound the crap out of Adam a minute ago, she’s pale everywhere except her cheeks, which are an unhealthy shade of red. There is some slight discoloration forming on her cheek and around her neck, which sends me into rage-y caveman mode all over again. Her glassy eyes meet mine, and she visibly shivers. “Can you give me a number in case we need to reach her?” Officer Working-mylast-nerve asks. After wrapping Hope in my arms, I rattle off my number and address to the cop. Hope, thank fuck, doesn’t contradict me. I’m sure soon she’ll remember we were in the middle of a huge fight, but right now she’s not doing so well. Fight or not, she’s coming home with me, because I’m not letting her out of my sight. When I finally get her outside, she sucks in the cool night air in greedy gulps. The sun has long since set. “I don’t feel well,” she whispers. My girl is proud, so she must be feeling pretty damn bad to admit that. “When’s the last time you ate something?” The fact that she has to stop and think about it is all I need to know. I’ve got fuck all in the way of food at my house, so once I get her settled in her car, I tap out a few texts to remedy that situation.

I GET Hope inside my house and settled on the couch before she conks out. After covering her with a blanket, I walk back into the kitchen. I’m not waiting long before Hoot shows up with a bag of Chinese takeout. “Axel should be by in a few with groceries,” he huffs out after setting the bag on the counter. “Good. I need one of you to go down to Hope’s office, grab my bike, and bring it here.” Hoot seems a little shocked I’m willing to let either of them near my bike, but it’s the last thing I’m worried about. “No problem.” Like a good little prospect, he goes outside to wait for Axel. Kicking off my boots, I contemplate the wisdom of waking Hope. She needs her rest, but she also needs to eat something. As I pad back into the living room, I’m struck by how fucking tiny and fragile she looks burrowed into my couch. All the awful possibilities of what could have happened had I not been there tear through my brain. The irony of the attack having nothing to do with me or the club is something I set aside to examine later. Hope looks so peaceful, I don’t want to startle her. Gently, I brush my fingers over her cheek, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Hope, baby, dinner’s here.” “Hmmm,” she mumbles. She blinks a few times before looking up at me. A soft smile is the first expression she has when she meets my gaze, and my heart jumps. I’m almost too choked up to speak. “You want to eat here or in the kitchen?” I ask while nodding at the coffee table. She throws back the blanket and sits up. “Kitchen. Let me run to the bathroom, and I’ll meet you in there.” She stands and winces, then rolls her shoulders. “I hurt everywhere.” I’m itching to run my hands over her, but I don’t want to add to any of her aches. She glances down at her rumpled clothes. “Do you have something I can change into?” “Yeah, of course. Give me a sec.” She runs down to the bathroom, and I dig through some clean laundry in the mudroom. I tap on the bathroom door, and she answers in her underwear. Normally I’d be primed to jump her, but the bruising over the delicate skin of her stomach, thighs and upper arms has me knotted into such a murderous fit I can’t even think straight. “Christ, I’m going to kill that fucker.” Her eyes widen in surprise. “It looks worse than it feels.” I know she’s lying because she told me not five minutes ago how bad she was hurting. I hand over the clothes and press a quick kiss to her cheek. “Hurry, dinner’s getting cold,” I croak out. “Okay.” She doesn’t bother closing the door, just slips into the long T-shirt and

shorts I gave her. She curls her fingers around my hand and tugs me to the kitchen. “I’m so far past hungry, I feel sick. But I know I need to eat something,” she says over her shoulder. Right. Food. Feed my girl now. Murder guy later.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

M y mind is a mess as we sit down to eat. My stomach rolls, and I’m not sure I’ll

be able to keep anything down. Rock pries the lid off a plastic container of wonton soup and nudges it in front of me. Not really caring what I look like, I pick up the container and suck down a good portion of the broth. “Stop staring at me, and eat your own dinner,” I mutter, which makes Rock chuckle. We eat in silence. After the day we’ve had, I’m not sure there’s a whole lot to say. Rock heard me recount my story to the officers over and over, so nothing needs to be said about that. The whole incident with Tony seems rather insignificant now. Maybe tomorrow when I reflect on it again, I’ll feel differently, but at the moment I can’t muster up any feelings on the subject. Rock’s entire body is tense as he watches me. When I finally push my food away, he puts his hand over mine. “Feel better?” “I do, actually.” Well, except for the soreness prickling my stomach and legs. Fear slams into me, and an image of David grabbing me and throwing me against my desk makes me shudder. “Hope?” I open my eyes and meet his concerned, stormy-gray stare. “I’m okay.” Someone bangs on the back door and I rocket out of my seat, slamming my knee into the underside of the table in the process. “Ouch!” “Shh, calm down. It’s one of the prospects.” He shouts “come in,” and Axel walks through the door carrying two handfuls of grocery bags. He sets them on the counter and starts quietly putting things away. It amuses me that he seems to know the layout of Rock’s kitchen better than I do, and I drop back into my chair. “Hey, Axel,” I call out. He turns and glances at Rock before answering. “How you doin’, Hope?” I’m not sure what Axel knows, so I just say, “Okay.” When it looks like he’s almost finished, I ask, “Is Heidi with you?”

His mouth turns down. “No. She’s home.” “Teller with her?” “I think so.” When all the bags are empty, Rock kicks a chair at Axel. Although he seems surprised, he joins us. “Teller been up to the clubhouse today?” Rock asks Axel. “Yeah, but he left so he could meet Heidi at the bus stop.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m sure she loved that,” I say with a snort. Axel cracks a smile. “Uh, she was pretty pissed. Called and gave me an earful.” Now Rock chuckles. “He brought her to see their grandmother,” Axels says with a serious expression, “but I guess that didn’t go too well.” I raise an eyebrow for him to continue, but he shrugs. “She didn’t give me any details.” “Are you hungry, Axel?” I ask, gesturing to the table. It seems rude to have all this food laid out and not offer him any. “No, thanks, Hope. I already had dinner.” He glances at Rock. “Hoot said you need us to pick up your bike?” “Yeah. Leave it here.” Axel nods and stands. “Give me a second, babe,” Rock says and follows Axel outside. While they’re gone, I clean up the kitchen. Peering into the fridge, I find that Axel brought over skim milk and some other things that Rock must have told him I’d want. Such a small thing, but it touches me for some reason. The door bangs shut, and I hear the snick of the lock. Then Rock is wrapping his arms loosely around me. “Baby, I want you resting, not cleaning up the kitchen.” He steers me into the living room, and we settle on the couch to watch a movie. I barely make it through the opening credits before I’m out. In the distant recesses of my mind, I register the rumble of a motorcycle, Rock speaking softly on the phone, and then nothing. In the morning, I wake up in Rock’s bed. He’s curled so tight around me, it takes a second to extract myself so I can run to the bathroom. When I return, he’s sitting up waiting for me. He holds out his hand, and I hurry to wrap myself up in his arms. “How do you feel today, Baby Doll?” he rasps in his morning-rough voice. “Better.” It’s not quite a lie. Almost. “Do you want to talk about yesterday?” he asks. My head is resting on his chest, so even when I tip my head up, I can’t really see his face. I trace my fingers over the stubble along his jaw. “Which part? The attack, or the fact that you’ve been lying to me for a while?” Whoops. That came out harsher than I meant. Underneath me, Rock’s body tightens, and for a second he stops breathing. “Wherever you want to start, doll,” he finally answers.

Propping myself up on one elbow, I move so we’re facing each other. “Why didn’t you tell me you knew Tony?” He seems surprised. “When? Back then, or now?” “Don’t be dense. Now.” His jaw ticks, and I think I might have accidentally insulted him. “Honestly? It never occurred to me.” I turn that over in my head. He seems sincere. “What if we’d run into him somewhere?” “Babe, we did run into him somewhere,” he answers with a wry twist of his lips. “What made you think you could manipulate my career? Back then,” I add. He seems puzzled by the question. “I liked you.” He presses a finger against my lips when I go to speak. I sit up so I can see him better. “Let me finish,” he requests, “I thought you were smart, and I wanted to do something to help you.” “So, it wasn’t a way to get in my pants?” Now I think I’ve offended him. It’s pretty clear from his expression that had never occurred to him. “No.” He sits up quickly and takes my hand. “Fuck, no, Hope. I told you how bad I wanted you, but I also respected you. You know loyalty means something to me.” He taps his fingers against his chest, right below his “Strength from Loyalty” tattoo. “Christ, my ex cheated on me left and right. I knew that day we first kissed you were struggling.” Heat races across my cheeks as I remember that illicit kiss. Guilt rushes through my gut because at the time I had no business wanting Rock the way I did. He places a finger under my chin, tipping my head up. “You were struggling, but you said no. I respected that. A lot, Hope. You know as well as I do, you can’t help being attracted to someone, but you can chose whether you act on it or not.” “God, you’re full of yourself,” I grouch. His laughter rumbles between us. “Be honest. If you hadn’t been married, would you have come home with me that night if I’d asked?” A different kind of heat streaks through me, but then another memory of that day squelches that fire. “No.” He quirks an eyebrow. “I caught you coming out of the closet with Inga. No way would I have wanted to sleep with you a few hours later.” He doesn’t laugh at me like I expected. “If you hadn’t been strictly off limits, I never would have been in that closet with her,” he says with such sincerity I believe every word. After a second, he runs his fingers over my cheek. “I did feel bad about that, you know,” he adds, a pained expression settling over his face. The way he admits that, the raw emotion in his words, loosens the tightness inside my chest. “Why? You were single and free to do whatever you wanted.” “I know. But the look on your face bugged the shit out of me for days.” Wow. That my big, tough, reformed manwhore has no problem admitting this to

me erases any leftover doubts from our argument. I’m too choked up to say anything, so I bob my head up and down like a dope. “That’s all my plan with Tony was, Hope. I’m surrounded by all sorts of crap. You were this bright, sweet, genuinely good person. It was just my way of wanting to do something nice for you, the only way I could figure how.” If I twist my mindset a bit and see it from his perspective, it makes perfect sense. “Okay, but you can’t keep sticking your nose in my career, no matter how good your intentions are. Let me figure out what to do on my own.” I thump him lightly on the chest to emphasize my point. He snatches up my hand and kisses my fingers. “Hope, I’m not that guy. I don’t want you to give up your career for me if that’s what you’re thinking.” “What are you talking about? I know that. Is that why you keep pushing me?” “Well, yeah.” A sheepish smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Plus, I like the idea of you doing stuff for the club. It’s like a small way for you to be a part of it.” “I knew it. You don’t allow women members, do you?” The sheepish smile turns into a smirk. I need to take a deep breath. In a small amount of time, he’s admitted a number of stunning things to me. Each one explains so much. I feel like an absolute bitch for the way I’ve treated him. “Rock, listen. I had these misgivings before we ever got together. The day we met, I think I told you I was struggling financially. Being a lawyer isn’t what I thought it was going to be. I think you understand how much I withdrew from everything after Clay died. So now, I’m trying to figure out what I want to do with myself. Yes, I like spending all the extra time with you. But trust me, I have no intention of giving up my own life to just sit around and wait on you all day, if that’s what you’re worried about.” “Well now that you mention it—” “Please, my vagina needs a break every now and then.” That gets a good, solid laugh out of him. “Fair enough, doll.” “Good, and don’t lie to me anymore.” He takes a deep breath, signaling this conversation is not finished, even though I thought it was. “I didn’t lie to you. If you had asked me for some reason, I would have told you about Tony.” “Really?” I ask with a bit more sarcasm than I intended. “Yes,” he answers in his typical, no bullshit way. I’m not so sure about that, but I nod anyway. “You still hide other stuff from me, though.” “Hope, you know there is shit I can not tell you.” “Rock—” “No. Can you tell me stuff about your clients?” “Of course not.”

“Right. You’re bound by your confidentiality rules. So am I. Try to see it that way.” “That’s ridiculous. I actually took an oath. I lose my license—” Now Rock’s pissed. “Babe, you best believe that I’ve taken some oaths of my own, and I have a fuck lot more to lose than a license.” “It’s not the same,” I protest. “No, it’s not.” It sounds like he’s agreeing with me, but I don’t think that’s what he’s actually doing. For some stupid reason, the term spousal privilege pops into my lawyer brain. “What if we were married?” I blurt out without thinking. “You’d still—” I stop because he has this strange look on his face. Way too late, I realize what I just said. Crap.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“ W hat if we were married?”

Her words punch me in the gut, and any anger I was feeling a minute ago vanishes. “You think about that?” A deep flush stains her cheeks, and she starts squirming away from me. Oh, hell, no. Launching myself on top of her, I pin her underneath me. “Tell me. Do you think about us that way?” She struggles and won’t meet my eyes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I know you don’t want—” I love her, but obviously, my girl knows jack about what I want. There’s a fuck ton of things I want from Hope. The words property patch spring to mind. I need to have that conversation with her soon. It’s way more important to me than a wedding ring. I realize it’s going to take a lengthy discussion for her to understand and not be offended. But damn, I want—no, I need—her so fucking bad. In so many ways. Leaning down, I take her lips in a soft, teasing kiss. “I want all sorts of things from you, Baby Doll.” Her forehead wrinkles with a bunch of unasked questions, so I continue. “I want you to move in here for one thing.” Fuck, it feels good to finally say that to her face. “You do?” she asks with such surprise my heart clenches. “Yes, Baby Doll. I hate every night we spend apart.” She looks so uncertain that I’m taken aback. Before I lose my shit, it occurs to me there could be another reason for her hesitance. “Baby, you not ready to let your house go?” She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and nods. “I haven’t even been able to pack his things up yet. Selling our house? I don’t know.” I shift my weight off her and sit back. A brick to the face would have hit me with less force. She still considers it “their” house. “I’m sorry,” she says. It takes me a second to remember how to work my mouth. “Don’t be. I get it.” I

want to understand, anyway. We’re interrupted from this painful circle of a conversation by someone banging on the back door. “Fuck.” It better be life or death, or I swear to Buddha someone is going to ground. Hope twists and checks out the clock. “I should go—” “No. I want you close today.” Actually, after her revelation, spending the day with her is going to be a challenge, but since I’m still worried about her safety, I’ll have to suck it up. She opens her mouth to protest. “I’m not fucking around, Hope. You got work shit to do, I’ll take you.” I’m telling her all of this as I jump into a pair of jeans and throw on a T-shirt so I can go slap the shit out of whoever keeps banging on the door downstairs. She goes to protest again, and I try that honesty thing she wants so much. “Hope, please. Give me this.” Begging works. She nods. “Okay.” Leaning over, I dip down and press a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.” Downstairs, I find Z at the back door. “Why didn’t you just come in?” I snap. “Got it locked down tight, brother. Forgot my key.” After leading him into the kitchen, I get some coffee going. I want to get breakfast started for Hope, but I doubt she’ll come downstairs if she thinks this is club business. Which, by the way, I would like to find out myself, so I can get in the right frame of mind. “What’s up?” “Wrath sent me. Said some shit went down, wanted to know what you need.” I snort and shake my head. I’d only spoken to Wrath briefly last night. I hadn’t told either prospect what went down, yet somehow, he got some details. Even when he’s down, brother is on top of things. I give Z a brief outline of the attack, completely leaving out the Tony Cain portion of the afternoon. It’s not relevant. Z cracks his knuckles multiple times throughout my rundown. “Where is this motherfucker now?” “Don’t you dare.” Hope’s voice comes from just outside the kitchen entryway before she comes into view. T-shirt hanging to her thighs, bare legs, mussed hair, she’s fuckin’ beautiful. Z runs his gaze over her a little too long for my taste, so I give him a slap. He shakes it off and glares at me. “What?” Hope narrows her eyes at me and comes around the corner to grab some coffee. As she stretches up to grab a couple mugs, the hem of her shirt rises, exposing the bruising all over the front of her thighs. Beside me, Z sucks in a breath. “Holy fuck, Hope.” His gaze darts to me, and it’s full of murderous intent. “He do that to her?”

“I sure as fuck didn’t.” Hope pads over and squeezes Z’s shoulder while giving him a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for worrying about me, but I’m really okay.” I allow this because she initiated it, and my brother keeps his hands to himself. Although he does stare at her ass a little too long as she walks away, so this time, I punch him in the arm. “Fuck, prez,” he grumbles, rubbing his arm. “Rock,” Hope warns. “You staying for breakfast?” I ask Z. His face says he’s surprised I asked. Am I really that much of a dick? Maybe I want the distraction of another person around, so Hope and I don’t have to go back to the conversation we were having before he got here. “Sure, thanks.” He slips off his jacket and takes a seat next to Hope. “You hurt anywhere else, sweetheart?” he asks while I start digging stuff out of the fridge. The question makes me pause as the image of that fuck forcing her over the desk assaults my memory. I can’t even think about what could have happened if I hadn’t been there, or I really will go track that scumfucker down and kill him. Between fixing breakfast and fantasizing about gutting Greybell, I didn’t hear Hope’s answer. I do hear Z trying to pry some info out of her, though. He thinks he’s being subtle, but he hasn’t dealt with a woman like Hope before. “Knock it off, Z. I’m not giving you information so you can go track him down and hurt him. I think he’s mentally unstable. Hopefully he’ll get some treatment in jail or something.” At that, I glance over at the two of them. Z’s slack-jawed expression is pretty damn funny. Her innocent—clueless, as Wrath likes to put it—outlook on the situation doesn’t annoy Z the way it would Wrath. Z pats her hand and responds in a gentle tone. “Darlin’, what I had in mind would be a lot kinder than the treatment he’s going to get in jail.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

R ock has been my constant shadow for the past week. Even though he has kept

himself very well-informed of Greybell’s whereabouts and knows the poor guy is still sitting in the county jail, he is very reluctant to let me out of his sight. We never got back to our conversation about moving in together, but I’ve spent every night at his house since, so maybe he thinks we don’t need to discuss it. Heck, even I’m not sure if it needs to be discussed. I probably should move in with him and get it over with. Something keeps stopping me. Every damn time I try to pack up Clay’s things, it’s so overwhelming I end up taking a nap instead. Surprisingly, we haven’t spent a lot of time up at the MC lately. I think he’s trying to make up for the Tony Cain incident, even though I’ve made my peace with it. The last few days have been similar to when we first started seeing each other. Just the two of us spending time together at his house. I imagine Rock’s absence is pissing Wrath off something fierce. Since he’s still laid up with the broken leg, Z is the one who makes the trips to visit Rock when something comes up that needs his attention. I’m sure whatever truce Wrath and I may have put in place has been obliterated. Feeling a bit claustrophobic yesterday, I put my foot down and insisted on going into the office. I really did need to grab some things to prepare for the upcoming hearing in Teller’s case. Rock agreed to let me go on the condition he went with me. Although I hate myself for it, I was relieved to have him there, because seeing the scene of the crime again sent me into a panic attack. Bless Rock’s heart, he kept his “told you so” to himself. Today something came up that Rock couldn’t put off—although he refused to tell me what, and that is also a conversation we haven’t gone back to—so I skipped on out the door to my office by myself. And found Hoot waiting for me on the front steps. Seems I’m destined to have a chaperone whether I like it or not. “Hoot, you must have more important things to do than play babysitter,” I scold as I let him in the office.

“Nope. Prez wants me here, I’m staying here. I promise not to get in your way, Hope.” “I know you won’t. You want a soda or something?” “I’ll get it. Go ahead and do your thing. Pretend I’m not here.” Yeah, like that’s easy with his lanky, six-foot frame taking up the entire waiting area. But eventually I fall into my work and manage to forget he’s out there. He’s a good bodyguard. Quiet and thoughtful. Rock’s trained him well. A little after five, I hear someone at the front door. By Hoot’s tone, I know it’s Rock even before my ears catch the deep, gravelly tones of his voice. Rock’s gaze locks with mine as I walk into the hallway to greet him. “Hey, Baby Doll. Prospect behave himself?” I notice he has this way of not even using the prospect’s club nickname when he addresses any of them. Poor Hoot seems a little tense until I give an affirmative answer. “Absolutely. He’s been a perfect bodyguard. Didn’t even know he was here.” “Good,” Rock jerks his head at the door, giving Hoot the signal that he’s free to go. “Take care, Hope.” I breathe a little easier when I see Rock slip the deadbolt into place. He notices and flashes a tight smile. “You okay?” I nod. “I’ll wrap up, and we can go.” “Okay.” I hear him following me down the hall. When I step into my office, a chill works over me. Before I know it, Rock’s arms slide around my waist, pulling me against his chest. He plants a kiss on the top of my head. “I missed you, today.” “Missed you too. Everything go okay?” “Mmhm,” he hums against my ear. When we make it out to the parking lot, Rock stares at my car for a second. “I’d really like you on the back of my bike, baby,” he says softly. Even in the early evening light, the weight of his stormy gaze heats my skin. On tiptoes, I reach up and give him a kiss. “I’ll be right behind you, promise.” I am so not leaving my car here so I can be stranded at his house, no matter how hot he’s making me with his I-want-to-fuck-you-right-now eyes. The response I get is not surprising, but it does excite me. He pulls me tight and gives me a kiss to think about on the drive to his house. When I pull into his driveway, he’s at my car door before I even shut the engine off. I get a kiss on the cheek before Rock turns and glances at the garage. “What?” He swings his gaze to me. “Nothing. You hungry?” I wasn’t until he mentioned food, then my stomach rumbled. “Yeah.” Rock takes my briefcase along with all the other items I dragged back to his house and leads me inside. He sets my stuff in the living room and turns to me.

“Babe, what do you think about setting up an office here for yourself?” I’m a little shocked. We never got back to that whole “moving in together” discussion. This seems like a compromise of sorts. Or maybe Rock is upset I rejected him the first time and doesn’t want to risk asking again? “What do you mean?” “I mean, you spend a lot of your time here. So maybe you would be more comfortable if you had a space to work in when you don’t feel like going to your office.” I cock my head at him. “Where?” He shrugs and glances down the hallway. “I got a spare room down here that’s just being used to store parts and stuff. I can move that stuff out to the garage.” Wow. “You sure? I don’t want to take up space you’re using. Honestly, Rock, I don’t need it. I can work from my laptop out here if I really need to. It’s not like I’m drowning in work anyway.” He stares at me a little longer, then shrugs. “Think about it.” We’re interrupted from talking about it by his cell phone going off. Before he gets it out, a second cell phone starts jittering across the table. He answers one and picks up the extra to check the number before flipping it open and closed. I’ve never realized he uses more than one phone, but it doesn’t surprise me for some reason. He holds up one finger at me and stalks into the kitchen while murmuring into the phone. I hear the back door open and shut, so I wander out to the kitchen. I can see him through the glass pacing back and forth in the mudroom, intent on the call. I figure I’ll start dinner while I wait. A prickle of unease curls through my belly. Something is definitely up. I keep busy by rubbing a steak down with olive oil, rosemary and garlic, while heating up a cast iron skillet I find in a cabinet. Potatoes get diced and herbed, then thrown in the oven. I find some salad fixings and put that together in a big bowl. Finally, I’m ready to sear the steaks, but there’s still no indication Rock will be returning. I pull out my own cell phone and set it on the counter to use the timer. I’m terrible at judging how long to cook steaks, so I set the timer to sear each side for seven minutes. While I’m waiting to turn the steaks, I consider Rock’s offer of an office in his home. Wandering down the hall, I push open the door to his spare room. It is indeed full of boxes and shiny parts. Even though it’s a lot of stuff crammed into the space, everything seems neat and orderly. My cell phone buzzes from the kitchen, and I run out to turn the steaks. Rock finally returns. “That smells amazing, sweetheart.” He kisses my forehead before flashing a pained smile at me. “I really need to head out for a few. Are you okay here?” My face must fall because he pulls me into a hug. “I’m sorry to run out after you just went to all this trouble. Will you wrap it up for me, and I’ll eat when I get back?”

Tears threaten to fall. I hate this. I hate it because he’s not going to tell me what’s going on or why he needs to leave so suddenly. I mean, at least if he was a doctor or something he could say “honey, I have a patient I need to see,” but he’s not going to tell me a thing. I can ask, but I know where that will get me. “Yeah, of course,” I finally answer. He knows. He knows damn well that I’m pissed and hurt, but he ignores it. “I need to run upstairs before I go.” Whatever. The timer goes off, and I turn the steaks off and plate them so they can rest for a few minutes before I slice into one. Dressed all in black now, Rock thunders back down the stairs while I’m taking the potatoes out of the oven. He’s tense and doesn’t give me a hug or anything else this time. He stops at the door. “Either Hoot or Axel will be stopping by to check on you a little later.” “How long are you going to be gone?” I ask. Why I bother, I don’t know. “Not sure. Shouldn’t be long.” Yeah, that’s real helpful. Then he’s gone, and I eat dinner alone. By the time I’m done, pissed off is a rather weak description of what I’m feeling. As I’m wrapping everything up, I accidentally knock my cell phone on the floor. I’ve done this a million times, but for some goddamn reason, this time the screen shatters. “Frick!” The phone is basically useless. I guess the phone is still working, but I can’t get it to do anything because I can’t work the stupid touch screen. I need my phone. I mean, theoretically Teller is my only client right now, and he has multiple ways to get in touch with me if he needs to. But my cell phone is the only number listed on my business cards, so the thought of not having it in working condition really freaks me out. I feel naked and vulnerable without it actually. I glance at the clock. If I leave now, I have time to make it to the cell store at Stonewell Mall and get a new phone. I was due for a new one anyway, but I hate dealing with the hassle of sales people and all the other bullshit that comes along with it. Although, now I don’t have a choice. There’s no sign of Hoot or anyone else, so after scribbling a quick note for Rock, I hurry to my car and head to the mall. Traffic is light, and I make it there in plenty of time before closing. The girl who helps me is way too bubbly for this time of night. She inspects the screen and shakes her head. “Honestly, since it’s not covered by warranty, it will be cheaper to just upgrade.” “I figured.” She shows me all the new phones and I dither back and forth before finally choosing one. “Normally we charge twenty-five dollars to move your contacts over, but since

it’s just me tonight, I’ll do it for free,” she says with a conspiratorial whisper. While she’s working, she frowns, then smiles at me. “Aw, that’s sweet. You and your man keep track of each other?” “What?” She gestures to the device my shattered phone is hooked up to. “You got that app Pinpoint installed on your phone. My sister and her husband use it. That way, she can call him when he’s passing the grocery store and ask him to grab milk,” she says with a giggle. “Wait. What are you talking about?” Her face falls, and suddenly the bubbly sales girl disappears into someone a little more uncomfortable. “Ah, it’s an app, to like, track someone’s phone. It’s not one that like monitors your texts and emails or stuff like that, though.” Geez, you can do that to people? I shake my head. “But I didn’t install that.” “Oh, well, sometimes people secretly install them on their spouse’s phone to find out if they’re cheating on them.” My eyes fill with tears, and I have to choke back a sob. Now she looks like she’d like to close up shop early and run home. “Ah, it looks like it was installed recently.” I flash back to the day Rock met me after the CLE. Because of the Tony Cain fiasco and then the Greybell attack, I never did figure out how he’d found me there. Sonofabitch!

I felt like shit for ruining the nice dinner Hope made and leaving her to eat alone. When this bullshit is over, I’ll think of a way to make it up to her. I tried to get out of this meet. Spent forever on the fuckin’ phone trying to handle it from home. Fucking Green Street Crew. I’m tired of these little bitches jerkin’ me around. It’s why I’ve been workin’ so damn hard to line up an alternate pipeline so we’re not so dependent on these street punks. Wrath is twisted as fuck that he can’t be at this meet. I’m not sure what poor Trinity had to do in order to keep him calm and at the clubhouse, but she’s someone else I’m going to have to show some appreciation real soon. Would I feel better with Wrath there? Absolutely. Do I trust the rest of my guys? No doubt. There’s no time to drive all the way to the MC, so we meet up in the parking lot of Crystal Ball. Z, Dex, Murphy, and Bricks are waiting for me when I pull up. Teller is still

dealing with Heidi drama, so I told him to stay put. Besides, if I bring too many guys, it will give GSC the impression they make me nervous. Z and Dex get in the SUV with me, while Murphy and Bricks will take their bikes. I don’t have to ask if everyone is armed. I do ask Z if he’s wearing a vest. He answers by yanking up his sweatshirt to show me the Kevlar. “Who did you talk to, Z?” “Some punk named Cheeky.” I shake my head. “All to meet up with Gunner?” “I think so. Jesus Christ, if I wanted to be dragged out of my house at all hours, I woulda been a doctor like my mama wanted,” Z snarks. “I thought your mom wanted you to be a construction worker?” Dex asks from the back seat. Z turns and flashes a grin. “Yeah, when she realized I wasn’t smart enough to be a doctor, she had to adjust.” I knock him back to his side of the truck. “My gain.” Z snorts. “How pissed is Wrath?” I ask. Dex chuckles. In my rear view, I spot him shaking his head. Z’s the one to answer, though. “Fuckin’ livid, bro. Holy shit. You better go up there when we’re done.” “Christ, I gotta check in with him like I’m a little fuckin kid?” “This shit sucks all around,” Z says without any humor. “I hear that.” I steer the truck into Riverwalk Park, back to our usual meeting spot. Murphy and Bricks are right behind me. I spot a silver Cadillac and a black SUV farther back. I park near the exit facing out. Z gets out first and scans the area. Four GSC kids pop out of the SUV and Z’s body goes rigid, his hand moving to his back. Coming up alongside him, I tell him to chill under my breath. As soon as I got out, one of the kids opened the Cadillac door, and I’m shocked as shit by who steps out. “Loco, the fuck you doing here?” I call to the GSC street boss, closing the distance between us. His four little soldiers get all twitchy with their weapons, which makes my guys twitchy with theirs. “Break off,” Loco shouts to his crew. I wave a hand at mine. Z comes up along side me. “The fuck?” he mutters. Loco is a tall, skinny black kid who doesn’t look all that threatening. But he didn’t get that name by accident. Street crews shake in their boots at the sound of his name. I respect the guy as far as we do business together. I don’t give a single fuck about him otherwise. He certainly doesn’t scare me. Then again, few people do. I am curious about why the fuck he dragged me out here tonight, though. “What’s goin’ on?”

He holds his hand out to give me one of his gangster handshakes. “How you doin’ Rock, it’s been a minute.” “Yeah.” His gaze slips to Z and he nods. “‘Sup VP?” “Loco,” Z answers, with his own nod. While Loco takes a second to survey my crew, I do the same. I spot Pinky and Kidd, but no Gunner. Shocking. Loco snaps his fingers, and a chunky, pasty kid shuffles forward. He’s got the gangster swagger down, but other than that, he looks as if he spends too much time sitting around inhaling cheeseburgers. I’m seriously bored with this whole situation. “I want you to meet Cheeky. He’s takin’ the drops from now on.” I raise an eyebrow at that. “Gunner move up?” I ask, even though I’m fairly certain the answer is a big, fat “fuck no.” Loco snorts. “Not exactly. More like what they call,” he glances at the shrubbery obscuring our view of the highway, “a lateral move.” In their world, that could mean anything. I don’t care enough to press for more details. I hold out my hand for Cheeky, who seeks Loco’s permission before taking it. “Rock, I had another reason for this meet. I hear you tryin’ to move some stuff out West. If your crew got more product, I was hoping you’d offer it to us first before looking for other buyers.” This is completely unwelcome news. Why the fuck Loco is up in my business is very concerning. I shrug. “Thought you guys were tapped out.” “No.” “Where’d you hear that story?” He gives me a level stare and cocks his head. “Let’s take a walk.” Z bristles next to me. “It’s fine,” I tell him. “Play nice,” Loco cautions Cheeky. I nod to Dex, Murphy, and Bricks for them to join Z. “Mingle.” Z shakes his head. “You leave my eyesight, I’m coming after you.” “Got it.” I jam my hands in my pockets and nod at Loco. We take a leisurely walk down to the river. The air has a bite to it, and the gentle rippling of the Hudson is completely at odds with what’s going on inside my head. When we’ve gone far enough for our voices not to carry back to the rest of our crews, we stop and face each other. Not a lick of fear runs through me. Fuck, nothing is running through me. Mild curiosity mixed with a hint of irritation, maybe. “Look, Rock, I know you think we’re just a bunch of street punks,” he starts, then nods when I don’t agree or disagree. “That’s true for a lot of them. Me, I grew

up with a different mindset. I got bigger ambitions.” “Okay.” “I’m telling you this so you understand why I know the shit I know. I ain’t fuckin’ playin’, man. You got access to more product, we want it.” I keep my face completely neutral even though I’m seriously fucking pissed. “No problem. I thought you had all you could handle.” “Yeah, Gunner was fuckin’ lazy.” “Kidd and Pinky ain’t much more helpful, from where I’m standing.” He narrows his cold eyes at me. “Kidd’s my blood, man.” I don’t give an inch. “Sometimes blood is the most unfaithful and disloyal relation you’ll ever have.” I’m not fucking joking either. No one can fuck you over worse than blood relatives. He takes a step back and looks at me like my words made him shit his pants. “I got mad respect for you, Rock. Your fuckin’ crew is solid. Loyal. I want to understand how you made that happen.” Seriously? I don’t even have words for how surreal this conversation is. Is he telling me he took a run at one of my brothers and came up empty? The thought that he might have tried makes me want to empty my clip in him right this second. “We’ve been through a lot of bad shit together. Trust. Like you said, loyalty. Always got each other’s backs.” Loco nods at me like there has to be more to the story. It’s like he’s asking me to explain what makes a good human being and what makes a bad one. I don’t fucking know. It depends on your perspective. I’m sure your average citizen thinks I’m a lowlife criminal, while a more hardcore criminal might think I’m a sopping wet pussy. “You’re confident that if I stepped to you right this second your guys would put a bullet in each one of my guys’ brains, right?” he asks. Yeah, I’m not liking this conversation. At all. “I ain’t threatening you, Rock. I’ve got genuine curiosity.” “Something like that.” “What’s your end goal?” “Family, freedom. I don’t give a shit about much more than that, Loco.” “Not money?” “Got that.” “Not enough that you don’t have to roll out to meet me.” I snort at that. “You got me there.” I think more about what he’s actually saying. “You trying to tell me you wanna be a kingpin, Loco?” There’s a sarcastic edge to my voice, but Loco either doesn’t catch it or straight up ignores it. “Yeah, man. And I think you can be a part of that.” Aw, I’m flattered. “You got a woman, Rock?” When I don’t answer, he chuckles. “By that face you makin’, you dizzy on some dame enough that you want to slit my throat for even askin’ ‘bout her. Why just one, when you can have your pick of them fuckin’

dancers you got in your club?” “Are you asking for dating advice?” That makes Loco laugh pretty fuckin’ hard. “No.” If this conversation goes on much longer, no amount of breathing exercises will stop me from killing this fuck. “How much more weight can you handle?” “All you got.” I stare at him. “You know we’re a small operation.” “Not that fuckin’ small from where I’m standin’. Best shit in the state. Probably the East Coast.” I don’t doubt it. Sparky takes his crops seriously. But I don’t like the idea of Loco talking us up to anyone outside of the area. “I got a few other obligations, but I’ll talk to Sparky. We can probably come up with five crates on the same schedule.” “That’ll work, man. Why you wanna cart that shit out West, when we be right here?” “Told you, thought you were at capacity.” “These other obligations?” This I won’t budge on. “MC ties, non-negotiable.” “Even if I could triple what you’re getting?” Fuck. “Yeah, even then.” “See, a man who isn’t motivated by money unnerves me, Rock. I don’t get that mindset.” There’s a lot of shit about Loco I don’t “get” nor do I ever want to. “To what end do you want the money, Loco?” “Dude, I won’t rest ‘til I’m sittin on a big ol’ pile o’ cash. You feel me?” “Sure.” Yup, known plenty of guys like that. “Besides that, it’s security for me and my kids. You got kids, Rock?” “No.” “Ah, maybe that’s why you’re so content. You got a kid, man, you look in their eyes and want to do better for them than was ever done for you. Make sure they don’t struggle.” Holy fuck. All right then. He’s most definitely some sort of sociopath, but I guess Loco’s not a complete soulless fuck. Good to know. “Everyone’s gotta struggle a little bit, Loco, or they never appreciate what they have.” He stops and takes that in. “Yeah, good point.” We walk back up to the guys and work out the logistics of the new arrangements with Cheeky. I’m feeling some serious what-the-fuck coming from Z. I’m assuming he thinks the club should have voted this. Loco dismisses his guys, and I nod for everyone except Z to hang back. “You cool working with Cheeky?” Loco asks. I’m shocked he cares about my opinion. Cheeky seems soft and easy to manipulate so…“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Cool.” He gives me another gangster handshake. “Let’s not wait so long to meet up again.” Yeah, I can’t wait.

I’m not as fond of the f-word as Rock is. To him, it’s a medium he uses to create all sorts of artful expressions. Fuck, fuck, fuck! My use of the word tends to be more prosaic. Rock fucking bugged my phone. Holy frick! Did I suddenly end up in some twisted, made-for-television movie and no one told me? That Rock thinks I would ever cheat on him and he needs to monitor me makes me completely rage-crazed. Like, I wish to God I had the same app installed on his phone, so I could track him down and choke the life out of his Cro-Magnon, cavedwelling ass. There’s no way in hell I am driving back to his house. I don’t want to go to my house, though, either, because I’m sure it’s the first place he’ll look when he realizes I didn’t come back to his house. I honestly think this it for me. The last straw. Time to get off this ride of crazy before I end up sequestered away at the MC tied to his fucking bed like a damn hostage. This shit actually scares me. After finding out that he tagged me like some damn dog—on top of the fact that he took off to do who-knows-what dangerous mission tonight—I think I’ve had enough. As I check into the nearest Holiday Inn, I’m filled with a grim glee that he’s going to freak the fuck out when he can’t find me.

Hope hasn’t answered my calls or texts, so I assume she gave up waiting for me and went to bed. At least I want that to be true. The more likely scenario is she’s

pissed at me and not answering on purpose. She can be cute that way. My ass is dragging as I drive Z and Dex back to CB. Dex gives me a fist bump before he leaves. Z sticks around. “Prez, the fuck?” “I don’t like it any more than you, brother.” The more I think of the conversation, the less I like what I heard. My takeaway is this: Loco is a goddamn sociopath. While he might like me or even respect me in his own twisted way, he’d have no problem gutting me if I was standing between him and a slice of his favorite cake. The fact that he basically ascertained the only way to hurt me—through my loved ones—is also not sitting well. Suddenly any games Hope might be playing don’t seem as funny. I’m consumed with an urgent need to see her. “Listen, I didn’t like some of the shit he was saying. How he knows what feelers we got out there ain’t exactly making me happy. I also got the impression he tried to pry some info out of one of us, and since no one has stepped up and said anything, I’m concerned.” Z blows out a long breath “That’s bad.” His phone buzzes in his hand. “It’s Wrath.” He answers and puts it on speaker phone. “What the motherfuck, Z? I’ve been going nuts. Everyone whole?” his voice booms through the car. Normally, I’d have a good chuckle over his reaction, but I’m not feeling very comical tonight. “We’re good, brother,” I answer. “Rock, you dick. You coulda at least let me ride along.” “And do what, watch if Loco decided to blow us up?” “Fuck you. I’m not an invalid. What are you talking about? Loco came?” “Yeah. Wanted to introduce Gunner’s replacement.” Wrath snorts. “Knew that little shit wouldn’t last long.” “Also wanted to let me know he was onto our Western connection and that he wants it.” “Fuuuck.” “Yeah.” “You tell him yes for now?” “Of course,” I answer, throwing a glance at Z. “I’ll call everyone in for church tomorrow,” Wrath says. “I’ll do it, brother. It’s my job,” Z answers. “We seem to have flipped jobs, bro, if you haven’t noticed,” Wrath says with a glum laugh. Catching Z’s eye, I shake my head slightly. Let Wrath do this. “Thanks man,” Z says. “You guys comin’ back here?” Wrath asks.

My hesitation says everything. “Fucking bring her with you, Rock. I’m sure Trin wouldn’t mind some alternate company.” I choke on a laugh over that. I’m sure she’d be relieved to hang out with someone else. “Tomorrow, I promise.” We sign off, and Z glances at me. “Is Hope doing okay?” “Yeah.” He slaps me on the shoulder as he gets out. “Go give her a special wake-up call, prez.” “I plan to.” I do not plan to come home and find Hope’s car gone from my driveway. Storming inside, I find the place cleaned up and a note waiting on the counter for me. Broke phone. Running to mall to get a new one. Love, Me. So that explains why she didn’t answer any of my texts earlier. Maybe. Since it’s almost midnight and she’s not back yet, my stomach churns. The mall closes at ten. It’s less than five miles from my house. There is no way she shouldn’t be back by now. Maybe she came back and got pissed when she realized I was still out? Something’s wrong. I got that fucking conversation with Loco messing with my mind. Asking about my woman. Trying to get inside my head. He could have had his crew come here and nab Hope while I was at that bullshit meet and greet. I pull out my personal phone and call up the app that will give me an idea of where to find my girl. When I had Z install it on her phone, I swore I’d only use it when necessary. Now feels very fucking necessary. I get nothing. Nothing. No blip. No message saying “unavailable at this time.” Nothing. My eyes drift to the note. Fuckingfuck! The fucking app won’t be on her new phone. I try calling her, and it goes straight to a generic voicemail. Jesus Christ, this is the worst possible timing. I glance at the note and then my phone again. No. Maybe she needed to go to her house for some reason. She’s not at her house. I don’t have Sophie’s number on me, but I do remember where she lives. It’s really fucking late by the time I get there. No sign of Hope’s car. I struggle with whether I should wake Sophie up, but after that scene at the Judge’s fundraiser, I decide it’s wiser not to. She’s an extra complication I don’t have the patience for right now. God dammit. Instead of tracking Hope’s phone, I should have rigged her fuckin’ car. I swing by her office on my way home just in case, but the parking lot is empty. I

manage to grab maybe an hour of sleep before I head back to Hope’s house and wait. At ten in the morning, she rolls into the driveway. Shock, clear as day, is written all over her face when she sees me. Her body is tight and controlled, even though she’s pretending to be carefree. I amble up to her. “Mind telling me where you’ve been?” “Oh, couldn’t you track me on your phone?” she questions in that angrysarcastic way of hers that usually gets me rock hard in two seconds. Not today. “No.” She unlocks the door and miraculously lets me inside. Well, I follow her in so close, she doesn’t have a choice. I seem to be doing that a lot lately. As soon as we’re inside, she whirls around and starts grilling me. “So you admit you installed an app on my phone to track me?” “Yes.” I figure honesty will keep her simmering anger from boiling over. She’s got me. No point lying. “How can you think I would ever cheat on you?” Okay, that’s unexpected. “What?” “I’m with you all the time—” “Baby, that’s not why. I’m worried about you.” Doesn’t Hope realize by now how much I fucking care about her? I know how loyal my girl is. I’d never spend a second thinking she’d step out on me. “What if Greybell had succeeded in throwing you in his trunk and I needed to find you?” She cocks her head. I try to explain it another way. “I worry about something happening to you—” Her face twists in anger. “This. This right here, Rock, is why I can’t move in with you. This scares me.” Thunk—the sensation of my heart free-falling into my stomach. Hope scared of me fucking hurts. “Baby, how can you say that? I want to make sure you’re safe.” “Because it’s fucking creepy!” she explodes. I can’t figure this out. “It’s not a way for me to spy on you. But if something happened and I needed to find you, that’s the only time I would use it.” “You should have asked me, told me, talked to me about it. Not just do it behind my back.” “I got enemies, Hope.” I don’t want to scare her, so I stop there. But this shit last night with GSC. Our beef with the Vipers getting stirred up again. The crash after the fight. Hope going out alone all the time to meet her clients. Clients fucking attacking her in her own damn office, for fuck’s sake...I need this extra protection on my girl. I can’t tell her all of this, though. I don’t want to risk her deciding it’s too dangerous for us to be together.

“I’m not a fucking dog you can micro-chip, Rock. I’m a human being. It’s like you don’t respect me at all.” Now I’m pissed. I respect her more than any woman I’ve ever known. Love her more than any person—ever. “It’s not about respect. You’re everything to me, Hope. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She falters, her anger disappearing for a second. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, so where’s my app? Where’s my way to track you down if something bad happens to you—which by the way, is far more likely, Mr. leaves-the-houseall-hours-of-the-night-without-telling-me-why.” What she’s suggesting is fucking insane. Holy fuck. That’s all I would have needed last night was Hope—lovely, beautiful but reckless Hope—rolling up on Loco and his trigger twitchy crew during our bizarre friendly, but not so friendly, standoff. “That would be a bad idea, Hope,” I say as plainly as possible. “Of course it would be. You’d never want me to know where you are.” Her furious face is red but still beautiful, and for a moment I’m distracted. She waggles her fingers in the air between us, drawing my attention to her words. “We’re not equals in this.” “Jesus Christ! It’s not about that at all, Hope.” “Then explain it to me.” “I can’t.” She pauses and considers my refusal before asking her next question. “Would you do something like this to Wrath?” “What? How is that even relevant?” “Would you spy on him without telling him?” she persists. “I wasn’t spying on you!” “Answer me.” “Babe, no one is going to kidnap him. It’s not the same thing.” “I can’t tell if you’re being deliberately obtuse or you really are this dense. Either way, I need you to leave.” She folds her arms over her chest. “No.” She arches a brow at me. “No?” “I didn’t do anything wrong, Hope.” She strides over and opens the door. “Get out. You went too far this time, Rock. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. Please go.” Words fail me, so I walk out the door.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A fter Rock finally, reluctantly—very reluctantly—leaves, I flop onto my bed and

collapse into tears. I am weak. I am such a girl. It hurts. It feels wrong to even think it, but the pain is uncomfortably close to how I felt after Clay’s death. How do people do this? How do they go on and survive after bigger tragedies than I’ve been through? I don’t know. I don’t have it in me, I guess. After a few hours of wallowing, I snap on the bedside lamp and stare at the bedroom. Clay’s side is still intact. I pull on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt and finally do what I should have done months ago. Sifting through Clay’s clothes seems like the easiest place to start, but it’s not. Most of the things in his closet have a musty tinge to them from sitting so long, untouched. But a few sweaters still have enough of his scent clinging to them that I burst into tears. I set those aside for now and pack the rest into boxes. The criminal defense bar has a program where you can donate ‘professional’ type clothing for defendants to wear to trial—instead of the prejudice-inducing orange jumpsuits they might otherwise wear. That’s where I’m going to send Clay’s business casual clothing and suits. I feel good about myself once I make that decision, and the sorting and packing goes much smoother. When I run out of boxes and garbage bags, I stop. As I look around at all the bags and boxes, I’m thrilled with the progress I’ve made. Rock will—wait. Rock will nothing, because I told him we were over. It makes sense for me to get rid of these things. This house. Pare it all down to nothing and find an apartment. No other man I might want to date will tolerate the shadow of my dead husband hanging around. Other man? There are no other men compared to Rock. How can there be another man? He’s it, and I know it. I’ve been making him put up with all my grief and guilt. He’s done it and not said a word. Been very sweet and understanding, even though it probably kills him. That shows me just how much he does respect me. If I stopped my righteous indignation long enough to grasp it. Dammit.

We still need to talk about this overwhelming need to protect me and go behind my back to keep track of me. I’m so not okay with that. If he’d just told me, explained it, I probably would have thought it was sweet, like the girl in the cellphone shop did. But by being sneaky, it made it ugly and infuriating. Still, there were better ways I could have explained it. Now he’s gone.

I can’t stand going back to my house. If I catch Hope’s scent on my sheets, I will lose my fucking mind. Wrath spots me the minute I step in the front door of the clubhouse. “Where you been, fucker?” is his idea of a greeting. Through hell is what I want to answer, but I don’t. “Why you waiting around for me like a nervous momma?” I ask instead. Wrath curves his body to the side in an exaggerated movement. “Where’s your girl? Thought she was comin’ with.” My jaw clenches, but before I can come up with any reasonable excuse, Z thunders down the stairs. “’Sup, prez?” He also glances at the empty air behind me. “Where’s Hope?” Shrugging off my cut, I storm into the war room, ignoring both of them. I’m not about to sit down and talk about my feelings with my brothers. Not fucking happening. I can hear the two fuckers out in the living room clucking about my dickish behavior. Fuck. Both their heads snap up when I bump into the couch. I drop down opposite from where they’re sitting. “Hope’s a little pissed at me.” And isn’t that the understatement of the year? For the second time in two weeks, she told me to “get out.” Shouted it at me, actually. This time I don’t think there’s any repairing it. You went too far this time, Rock. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. “What’d you do now, Rock?” Z asks. He’s asking as my friend, not my VP. I look up, catching his eye. “She found the app I had you install.” “Fuck, man, how? I buried it deep—” Poor Z’s gonna get himself all worked into a fit if he thinks he fucked something up. I wave my hand in the air. “No. The phone broke and she had to take it up to the

store—” Z nods, satisfied it’s not his fault. Wrath has his face screwed into an incredulous expression. “Wait a second. You put a tracking app on Hope’s phone and didn’t tell her about it?” Surprised Wrath cares so much, I just nod. “Whoa. I mean I get why you didn’t ask her, but to not even tell her? Bro, that’s fucked up.” Then he turns away and mutters, “and everyone thinks I’m the asshole ‘round here,” loud enough for me to hear. “Big help, bro, thanks,” I tell him in my most sarcastic if-you-weren’t-mybest-friend-I’d-kill-you voice. “You jacked Trin’s phone,” Z points out to Wrath. His face transforms into one that has made lesser men shit their pants. Z is oblivious. “Technically you did, asshole. Besides, that’s different,” Wrath growls. “She’s club property,” Z says with a grin that is about to get his teeth knocked down his throat by the look on Wrath’s face. “It’s different because I told her we did it. She wasn’t surprised. But she grew up in this life and understands.” He swings his glacial gaze back my way. “Hope is citizen, Rock. You keep trying to integrate her into our world, but you’re not straight with her. Women like her get offended by that shit.” Anyone who looks at Wrath and assumes he’s all brawn and no brain is seriously fucking stupid. Brother is apparently smarter than I am. Well, sometimes. “How you gonna fix it?” Z asks. She gave me the way. It’s a pretty fucking big gesture. Impossible really. “I don’t know.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

I 'm twisted the fuck up and exhausted by the shit going on between Hope and me.

So it's the worst time to get the okay for something I've been waiting on for a while now. The Superintendent of Southaven Supermax has finally determined I am fit to visit the only member of my charter currently inside. Because my Road Captain and Treasurer have nice, squeaky clean records, they usually make the trip out to Central New York to visit Grinder. But the old goat keeps asking for me, and the right thing to do is honor his request. My record is not so spotless, so like a good little productive member of society, I sought permission in writing from the Superintendent to visit my former sponsor. Permission granted. It's been a few years since we've had a face-to-face. We went into the slightly more pleasant Eastwood Correctional together. I did my damnedest to get the fuck out and never go back inside, while Grinder—well, he sought protection for us from some very expensive sources. The things they demanded of him are what got him the ticket to Southaven. So yeah, I've got a bit of guilt about the fact that I'm out free enjoying my life, while Grinder is sitting in one of the shittiest prisons—literally—New York State has to offer. Some of that guilt is offset by the fact that I never should have gone inside for what I ultimately got nailed for. But not much. Inside or not, Grinder is still a brother. Forever Kings, Kings Forever. We do what we can for him from outside. We keep his offender account plush so he can get whatever he wants from the commissary. His ol' lady, Rose, has nothing to do with the MC any more. Wants it that way. I still check on her from time to time. Make sure she has whatever she needs. She's not so fond of my face or voice. Any reminder of LOKI really. So she gets a check in the mail. They never get returned. We have a private attorney working on Grinder’s appeals, even though all of us know it's pretty much a dead end. He's done so much bad shit on the inside— hence the extended vacation at Southaven—that his original conviction could be outright overturned—null and void—and he'd still be inside for years to come. Since I've had a couple near misses in the last few years, maybe this trip to the

Supermax will do me some good. Remind me why I work so damn hard to keep myself and my brothers straddling the line between legal and illegal, rather than falling headfirst into bad shit that might bring fucktons of quick, easy cash but also the potential for lots of years spent in places like this shithole. Christ, my rageful brother Wrath wouldn't last a day inside without beating the fuck out of someone and getting thrown in solitary for an extended vacation of his own. Since I took control of the Lost Kings, I've worked hard to insulate myself with people in positions that can help me and my brothers avoid Grinder's fate. If New York ever gets its head out of its ass and legalizes weed, I'd sleep a lot easier. I already have things in place to turn us legit as soon the legislature and governor give the green light. Yeah, it's a long drive out in my comfortable but unfamiliar rental car, so I have lots of time to think over all this shit. And avoid thinking about where I stand with Hope. I left my cut at home. I’d like to avoid the hassle of an ass-probing strip search, so I’m in complete compliance with the facility’s endless visitor rules and guidelines. Besides my ink, nothing on my body associates me with LOKI. No jewelry. No thinly veiled logos or sayings. Nothing. And it feels fucking weird. Like my identity is somewhere in limbo back in Empire, waiting for me to return. I've got a simple, plain black sweatshirt on and black track pants. No zippers or buttons to attract the attention of the metal detector. No pockets to attract the hands of the guards. I'm even wearing plain black underwear, since the rules specifically stated visitors should be wearing underwear. I don't even want to ponder what incident led them to including that in the official guidelines. The scene inside is as depressing as I expected. I suffer a bit of guilt over making Teller and Murphy do this trip every month. They barely knew Grinder. But at least maybe it helps them understand why I prefer to avoid the things I do. I timed my trip so I'd get here right after count, and the waiting area is full of visitors who had the same idea. Voluntarily walking myself inside a prison is not sitting well with me, but I suck it the fuck up and make my way through the metal detectors. The visiting room I'm escorted to is different than I expected. No metal cage separating us. Regular tables and chairs. I guess Grinder's been behaving himself. I stand up to greet him. We're allowed a quick handshake before the guards gesture for us to sit down. Time inside has not been kind to my friend. At six-two, he's always been a big guy, but now he's thin and gray. "Long fucking time, Rock," he greets me in the same slow, rumbling voice I remember. "Yeah," I agree, because what else am I going to say? He knows why I haven't come to visit. "I hear the MC is doing well."

"We're solid." "Thanks for making sure my account is full." "Of course." "You seen Rosie lately?" "No, man. She don't want to see anyone associated with the MC." "You take care of her?" "Send her money. She takes it." He nods. "That's good." "She come visit?" "Never. Don't want her to see me here." I can understand that. That’s kind of a dead end conversation topic. "So what'd you do to get into the fancy visiting room?" His mouth quirks, and a hint of the guy I remember makes a brief appearance. "Got myself up to level three now. Comes with all sorts of privileges. Even allowed to wear my own underwear, instead of that state-issued crap." It feels horrifically inappropriate to laugh, but I chuckle anyway. Grinder seems to appreciate it. "That's good, man." "It is. There's talk I might get shipped back to a regular facility to finish out my sentence." "No shit?" "Hoping I can transfer down to Pine." "That would be nice. A lot closer, so more of the guys could come visit." "Please, they're all too young to even remember me now." I snort at that. It's not really true. The guys remember Grinder. We just don't talk about him a lot. "How's Wrath?" "Ornery as ever." "Z?" "Still sticking his dick in anything that moves." "You?" I'm not sure how I feel about discussing Hope with Grinder. Part of me doesn't want to rub my happiness in his face. Part of me doesn't want anyone inside these walls even knowing she exists and that she's important to me. "Been seeing a girl for a little while." He cocks an eyebrow at me. "Club girl?" "Nah. Farthest thing from it." "How's that working out?" I almost choke on the answer. "Most days, pretty damn good. Sometimes, a little rough." Real fucking rough. He nods thoughtfully. "Rosie didn't know shit about MCs before we met." "I remember you telling me that." Seemed strange to me, even back then. Now

it’s uncomfortably familiar. From what I remember, Grinder’s ol’ lady was in med school when they met. Way he told it, she hopped on the back of his bike and never looked back. "So fucking smart." He shakes his head, flexes his hands. "Bet she wishes she'd never met my dumb ass, never left med school. She'd probably be a doctor with a nice little private practice like she always wanted, if it hadn't been for me." "That was her choice." He gives me a level stare. "Nah. Hated anything that took her away from me. Made her fucking miserable until she quit." That’s some pretty heavy self-realization Grinder’s got going on. I guess sitting in a cell for twenty-three hours a day, six days a week by yourself will do that to a guy—if it doesn’t drive him insane first. Turning over his words, I can’t help but think about my own situation. I'd never do that to Hope. In fact, I keep trying to push her back into her career. Still, this whole conversation is stirring up a storm inside of me. A big one. "If I ever get the fuck outta here, you gonna have a place for me?" "Of course. What kind of question is that?" He shrugs. "Nice to have something to look forward to." We talk awhile longer. Nothing of any consequence, but I sense he just enjoys the company. Again, I feel like shit for not coming out more often. The guards let me grab a bunch of snacks from the vending machines, so for the rest of the visit we consume a lot of crap that comes out of crinkly wrappers. At three-thirty, all the visitors are kicked out. Grinder promises to keep me up to date on his transfer request. I promise I'll be back out to see him soon. I intend to keep that promise. My body feels like it’s connected to a live wire the whole ride home. I have never been so fuckin’ anxious to get off the road. Everything in me is screaming to go see my girl and fix this fuckery between us before I lose her for good. Hope doesn’t want to see me. She made that damn clear. I can’t stand this, though. I have to see her. I just need the right excuse. The perfect plan comes to me, and I discard it immediately. The guys will slit my throat if they ever find out. It’s a bad fucking idea. But I can’t shake it. I think it’s the last play I’ve got.

I miss Rock like crazy. I’m trying so hard to understand him. Why he does the things he does. Our relationship has been so complicated from the very beginning. Even after my husband’s death. Rock and I have such differing viewpoints on so many things. The one thing we certainly agree on is sex. The sex is freaking amazing. But is that enough? Almost immediately I’m ready to kick my own butt. We have more than sex. He sees things in me I don’t even recognize and loves me for them. Although his life with the club confuses me, I respect his devotion to the people he considers his “family.” He cares about something bigger than himself, and over the years I’ve found that to be a rare quality in people. Anyone can spout off nonsense about how they’d die for their loved ones, but Rock means it right down to his very soul. It’s hard not to admire that level of commitment. His obsession with keeping me safe comes from a good place. A place of protecting me, not controlling me. There’s a difference, and I know in my heart he’s on the right side of that very thin line. I’m not sure what to do about it, though. Every day that goes by without a word from him scares me. Maybe I finally pushed him away for good. Maybe he’s decided I’m too much work, and he’s back to his former ways of screwing dancers and club girls who aren’t so complicated and pissy. The thought makes me sick. I need something to take my mind off of our situation. A distraction in the form of my crazy friend Lilly would be perfect. It only makes sense that since we both work downtown, Lilly and I would occasionally get together for lunch. Yet for some reason, we never do. Now that I am down here more frequently but still don't have a lot of clients, I have more free time on my hands, so when she asks me to come meet her, I'm happy to say yes. Lunch with Lilly should help me take my mind of the situation with Rock. I feel like I’m dangerously close to caving in to every one of his demands, and I don’t like what that says about me. Sophie is traveling again this week, so it will just be the two of us. Or so I think. When I finally make my way through the concourse to the food court where many state workers spend their lunch hour, she's sitting with a straight-laced younger guy I don't recognize. "Hope! Over here." She stands up and waves frantically. I take a second to adjust to the sight of Professional Lilly. Boobs snuggled down under layers of fabric, hair twisted into a professional knot, skirt an inch below her knees. I glance down at my own pants and blouse and feel a little underdressed next to her, which is pretty hysterical when you think about it. “Hey, hon.” Lilly leans over and gives me a quick hug. She gestures to her companion. “This is Brad. We work together sometimes and ran into each other on the way down, so I invited him.” She gives me an I’m-sorry-I-hope-you’re-notmad face. “Brad, this is my friend, Hope.”

He actually stands up to greet me and shake my hand. “Nice to meet you.” “You too.” My gaze darts around the cafeteria. “Anything here that won’t make me want to barf?” I ask Lilly. She squints and points to the far, back corner. “The deli. They make great sandwiches.” “’Kay. I’ll be right back.” I’m anxious because I know Lilly only gets an hour for lunch and it takes forever to place my order. When I return, they’re both talking about someone I don’t know. Work stuff, I guess. “So, what do you do, Hope?” My mouth is full of turkey sandwich, so Lilly answers for me. “She’s a lawyer.” Brad raises an eyebrow. “Nice. What do you practice?” My nose wrinkles, but I give my standard answer before asking him, “You?” “I’m a consultant with Empire Canvassing.” “Don’t let him fool you—he’s a dirty lobbyist,” Lilly says with a dramatic head shake. My lips curve up at the generic sounding name of his firm. “What are you lobbying for?” He rolls his eyes in obvious delight and gives me a broad grin. “A new tech company that manufactures grow house equipment.” My blank look seems to amuse both of them. “They’re lobbying to legalize pot in New York,” Lilly explains. “Why are tech companies interested in that?” I get the impression Brad is not impressed with my intellect. “Big money to be made in the states that are legalizing. Think about it. You’ve heard of NORML, right?” “Sure.” “Well, they’ve been pushing for marijuana reform for years with no movement. But these investors and lobbyists who are backed by big-money have managed to propel some of the legislation forward in no time.” I think about some of my clients—heck, Rock being one of them—getting dragged through the criminal justice system for stupid, simple pot possession. “I guess if that’s what it takes to finally get some sensible laws and stop sending people to prison for something so silly, it’s a good thing.” Brad seems surprised. I guess he thought I’d be judgmental. “Our firm works on other stuff too. This is just a big deal at the moment.” We talk about some other topics. Lilly mentions a movie she wants to see. Brad awkwardly asks me out. Thankfully, Lilly saves the day. “Oh, Hope’s got a big, scary biker boyfriend, Brad. Sorry.” Brad’s definitely shocked. I’m a little shocked myself because I’m close to bawling at the table. I’m not actually sure I still have a boyfriend anymore, scary or otherwise. I keep this to myself, though.

“You don’t seem like a biker babe,” Brad says without apology. Heat creeps over my cheeks. “I wasn’t.” “He’s not just a regular badass, he’s an MC President,” Lilly brags. Brad quirks an eyebrow at me. “I hope it’s the Wolf Knights or the Lost Kings. The Vipers don’t have the best reputation where women are concerned.” What the— The question must be visible all over my face. “Our firm lobbies for some other interests as well. I know more about this area than you can imagine, Hope. So which one is it? I hear Mr. North is a clever businessman, but someone you don’t want to cross, and Mr. Hunt is a gentleman, but he’s got a nasty streak if you fuck with his family.” Good grief, my boyfriend has quite a reputation. “Uh, Rochlan North.” “Please don’t tell him I asked you out,” he says with an absolutely straight face. Lilly bursts out laughing. Brad and I do not.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I ’m not thrilled with the report I get from Hoot.

Yeah, I’m risking pissing Hope off for good by still having her followed, but I’m fucking worried about her. Greybell finally made bail, and I’m not taking a chance he will come back to finish what he started. From what I’ve been able to figure out, his family shuttled him away to a mental hospital. He best fucking stay put. I don’t know if Hope is aware of his release. It’s not like she would change her routine even if she did. She’s stubborn that way. However, I’m annoyed with today’s report from Hoot for different reasons. She’s having lunch with Lilly and some guy Hoot doesn’t recognize. Although I know Lilly enjoys playing the field, I’m concerned she might have taken it upon herself to set Hope up on a date. The idea kicks my fuckin’ ass into gear. When Hoot tells me it looks like she left the office for the night, I ask him to tail her until the turn off for her house. He gives me the call that she’s almost here, and I steel myself for what’s about to go down. This has to go right. Fucking up isn’t an option. Headlights wash over me, and I squint into the light, relieved when I recognize Hope’s car. She barely has the key out before she opens her door. “Rock?” “It’s me.” Shit, I didn’t want to scare her. The soft slam of her car door, gentle clicking of her heels over the pavement are just background noise compared to her voice. “Why are you here?” “To talk.” “Oh.” She’s close enough for me to see the corners of her mouth turn down. Without inviting me inside, she opens the door. I follow in right behind her, just in case. After setting her things down, she leans against the kitchen counter. She folds her arms over her chest and nods at me. Fuck, this is hard. “I wanted to give you this,” I say, while digging into my

pocket for the small rectangular box. Her eyes fill with confusion as she stretches out one hand to take it. She slides the box open and stares at what’s inside for a beat before speaking. “A phone?” “Uh, yeah. I can have your number switched over to it later if you want.” This is awkward enough without getting bogged down in the technicalities. “Okay.” “Turn it on.” She fiddles around with it for a minute or so before the screen lights up. “Now what?” I hold out my hand, and she moves closer to give me the phone. Standing side by side, when I haven’t been near Hope in what feels like forever, momentarily distracts me. Finally, I manage to call up the screen I need. There’s a small blue heart steadily blinking at the center. I hand the phone back to her, and when her fingers brush against mine, it’s a fight not to crush her against me for a scorching kiss. “What is that?” She takes the phone from me, studying the screen. “Is that a… map? That’s my house.” Her questioning eyes meet mine. I pull out my phone to show her the same screen, mine with a pink heart blinking—her. “You…You’re giving me the same thing?” My chest tightens at the sound of her low, velvety voice. “Yes. I trust you more than any woman I’ve ever known.” I grab both phones in one hand and tip her chin up. “But. You have to promise me you will never come looking for me if I’m out on club business. Ever. If you’re worried, you tell one of the guys, give them the location and let them handle it. Promise.” She blinks a few times before answering. “Okay, I won’t. Promise.” I nod, but I don’t let her go yet. I want her to understand how serious this is. “The shit I was in the middle of the other night, sweetheart, if you’d come rolling in…it would have been very bad. For everyone. Especially you.” “You scare me, Rock.” My pulse jumps—how can she say that? The heavy frown I’m wearing must nudge her into explaining. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid for you. Can you understand that? My husband was very cautious and safe, and yet I still lost him. You’re non-stop danger, and I’m so scared of you…dying,” she finally whispers. A number of emotions run through me, hearing her admit something so deep. I land on guilt. I need her to hear the absolute truth from me. “I’m so sorry that I make you worry. But can I tell you something?” She nods for me to go on. “Only three things in this world keep me up at night. The thought of losing you. Losing one of my brothers. Going back to prison. That’s it. I’m not afraid of dying, babe.” Admitting that to her didn’t feel as bad as I thought it would. “Prison,” she whispers, as if the thought had never occurred to her.

“Yes, babe. You know I’ve been inside. Long time ago. Don’t ever want to go back.” I watch her face as she absorbs my worst fears. Even though we’ve never talked about it, I know she knows. “Prison,” she mumbles again as if reality is finally dawning on her. “Then why do you—” I stop her before she even gets the thought out. “It’s all I know, babe. It’s why I keep so many secrets, and don’t trust anyone outside the MC. It’s why I insulate myself with people who have the juice to keep us out of trouble—like Tony Cain.” She nods, but I can already see the tears filling her eyes. This is a little too much raw honesty. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about tracking your phone. It’s not because I don’t respect you, I just worry—” I don’t get to finish, because she pulls away from me. "My life is only ever in danger because you put it there!" Almost true. "So Adam's client who attacked you, that’s my fault too?" She's got nothing. She sputters. Fuck me, did I finally outsmart my mouthy lawyer woman? One corner of her mouth quirks up, and she shakes her head. “What am I going to do?” I’m not really sure what she means, but I take her hand anyway. “Love me. Let me love you.” “That’s not enough.” Oh shit. No, no, no. “I need you to not get hurt. Can you promise me you’ll do your best to keep yourself safe?” I expected her to say the risks were too high and she needs to be with someone safer, or to ask me to quit, leave the club. But she demands none of that. No, she’s asking me to keep myself safe. My throat is so tight, it’s hard to speak. “Of course.” “I mean from…other things too. I don’t ever want to have to come visit you behind bars.” After spending the day visiting Grinder and all the bad memories that dredged up, her words are like a knife in my gut. “I’d never ask you to do that, baby.” Hurt flashes in her eyes. “I wouldn’t desert you.” What did I do to deserve this woman’s loyalty? “Besides, I’d wait for you, so I could kick your ass when you got out.” That’s my girl. Taking a few steps to the side, I set the phones on the counter, then hold out my hand. She places her hand in mine, and I tug her against me. “Remember how I told you once I’d let you go, if you wanted me to? I can’t do it now, Hope. I can’t. I love you too much.” Her wide, green eyes blink up at me. “I don’t want you to let me go. I love you

too.” Thank fuck. “I need you.” And it’s true. I need Hope more than fucking air right now. “I need you too,” she echoes with a sweet smile. She’s incredible, but at the moment she’s not getting me. I walk her gently backwards until she’s pressed up against the wall. Lifting her legs so they’re wrapped around my hips, I lean in and bury my face against her neck. My lips slide over her soft skin, licking and sucking until her breath comes out in jerky little pants. Now she understands. Her arms lock around my neck, pulling me close. My hands find their way to her waistband, where I pull and tug her blouse free. Sliding my fingers over her bare skin, I can’t get enough. I don’t think my big, clumsy hands can work the tiny, delicate buttons of her blouse. So I tear it off. Creamy lace covers her heavy breasts, but not so much that I can’t spot light freckles and perfect rosy nipples peeking out. Hope gasps as she looks down at the ruins of her pretty blouse hanging from her. As she shrugs out of it, she pins me with a stern stare. “That was expensive.” There’s no anger behind her words. She’s working hard to keep her mouth from curving into a smile. “I guess I owe you a blouse then,” I tease. Her thighs squeeze me tighter, and she reaches for me again, pulling me close. I can’t get enough of her breasts—they fill my hands perfectly. I draw the lace cups of her bra down, placing her on display. Slowly, I skim one hand up her side, smoothing it over her breast, stopping to pinch and roll the stiff tips of her nipples and take in her responses. She whimpers and pushes her hips against me. My dick is so fucking hard. “I need to be inside you, Hope,” I murmur against her neck. Her body tenses a bit, and I pull back. Suddenly she’s wearing a shy, hesitant look that I’m not liking very much. “It’s been a while.” “I know—that’s why I need to be inside you so bad.” She meets my eyes, bites her lip a little, and it hits me upside the head what she’s worried about. “Baby, if you think I’ve even thought about another woman, you’re out of your mind.” Yeah, that’s what was bothering my girl. Her body relaxes a notch. She lowers her gaze and a shiver works over her. “I said we were done,” she whispers with aching sweetness. “I’m well aware. Thing is, I don’t listen so well.” “I’m sorry,” she whispers. I knead my hands into her hips a little harder until she’s staring at me. “You have nothing to be sorry for, baby. I’m the one who fucked up. I’m sure it won’t be

the last time, so I hope you’ll be patient with me.” A half smile pulls her mouth to the side. “Try harder.” “No trying about it—I’m hard as steel,” I tease, then grind my hips against her pussy through her perfectly tailored dress pants to emphasize my point. Meeting her sultry gaze, the words I need her to hear come pouring out. “You’re it for me, Hope. I don’t even see other women any more. Only you.” I wish I was better with words. Even so, I think she gets it. “Rochlan,” she sighs. “You’re it for me too. You know that, right? There could never be—it’s why I need you to keep yourself safe.” Breathing? What the fuck is that? I don’t even know, because I’m so fucking lost in her words. I ease off her enough to slide my hand over her front, then hook a finger into her belt, tugging it free. Her clothes aren’t coming off fast enough—I have to set her down so I can work everything off her body. Our hands and arms tangle together while she dives for my belt and jeans, but finally, I have her standing almost naked in front of me. Beautiful. She looks up at me through her lashes, and it hits me hard how much I want Hope and no one else. Every single word I told her was true. I grip her hips, lifting her slightly, and she hooks her legs around me again, using me as leverage to work her slick pussy over me. Tease. I reach down and guide my dick into her. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, eyes going wide, mouth open as I keep sinking into her, deep as possible. Those short, breathy nonsense sounds she makes drive me crazy. So crazy that, while I’m using my arms to cushion the parts of her jammed up against the wall, I can’t stop myself from ramming into her. “Yes, Rock. Just like that. Right there,” she gasps. Her legs tighten around me, fingers digging into my skin. My girl is completely with me, loving every brutal thrust. “I need…I need you, Rock.” I doubt she’s aware of what she said, but it pushes me right over the edge. That’s what I needed to hear. She’s tight and trembling in my arms, her pussy locking down on me. Her soft moaning and panting fills my ear. Her face is flushed—a stunning light pink, lips parted, face tense as she concentrates on coming. So beautiful. I’m done. Crushed under the weight of her beauty and trust. I keep pounding into her until I’ve got nothing left to give.

My legs are still trembling as I straddle Rock’s bike on the way to his house. No

matter how chilly the night air whipping around us is, there’s a warmth in my chest that can’t be extinguished. Rock’s love and faith in me mean everything. The makeup sex is great, don’t get me wrong, but those two things are priceless. I think I can put up with all the other demands of the club as long as I have his respect and trust. Once we get to his house, Rock silently leads me inside. “Are you hungry, Baby Doll?” he asks in a hoarse voice that makes my heart clench. “A little.” He sits me down at the table and goes to work making something simple. Before he sits down to eat with me, he sets two wineglasses and a bottle of red on the table. I quirk an eyebrow at him, and he shrugs. “Surprised the biker has fancy stemware?” he teases. “A little,” I answer honestly. He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he pours the wine. After dinner, I help him clear the table, and he leads me upstairs. Butterflies flutter around in my belly. I can’t believe I’m ready to jump him again so soon. Just outside his bedroom, he pauses. Suddenly his demeanor radiates a certain significance that makes my tummy quiver for different reasons. My plans to race him to the bed and be naked in his arms within the next five seconds are suddenly put on hold. He takes my hand and pulls me into the bedroom. “Baby doll, I want to have a talk with you.” “Uh-oh.”

Hope’s wariness made me feel like an asshole. There’s no reason for me to be so fucking dramatic, except I’m nervous. Very few things in life get my heart racing. But this conversation I’m about to have with Hope? Yeah, my pulse is easily going one hundred and twenty miles an hour. But I opened my big mouth. Shutting down now would only make things weirder. Curving my hands over her hips, I nudge her to the bed. Maybe this conversation would be better naked? But no, I’ve dicked around too long as it is. Pulling a chair over, I sit in front of her and take her hands in mine. Even though

I’ve gone over this conversation in my head dozens of times, it still takes me a minute to line up the words the way I want them to come out. “Hope, baby. You know how the guys keep referring to you as my ol’ lady?” She lifts one shoulder and nods. “I used to get annoyed when people thought I was younger, but I can’t say I’m thrilled about being called ‘old.’” Instantly, I’m thrown back to the day we met. I’d originally pegged her at about six years younger than her age. I chuckle at the memory of the first time we had lunch together and I mistakenly told her she’d make a fine stripper. Man, I was an asshole. “Fair enough. But it’s not about age in my world. It’s about respect.” She doesn’t snort or roll her eyes. She’s listening intently. Reaching up, I draw one finger down her arm and take her hand again. “It means our relationship is permanent. Stable. It’s a way to warn my brothers to stay the fuck away from you.” Her lush lips curve into a wicked smile. “I’d say you’ve done an admirable job of that.” I want to smile at her teasing words, but she also needs to understand how serious I am. How serious what I’m about to explain is. She meets my eyes with her soft green ones and flutters her lashes at me. I won’t let her pretty owl-eyed expression distract me from my mission. “Ol’ ladies are the most important females associated with MCs.” Now she’s wearing this cute baffled expression. “Calling you that lets my brothers know I’ll throw down for you. It means I trust you to never talk about club business. It earns you their respect and loyalty.” She snorts at that. “Please. Wrath has been mean to me since day one.” The corner of my mouth twitches, but I stop it from becoming a full-blown smile. “Yes. While ol’ ladies are important, they’re also a threat to the club in a way.” Her eyebrows draw down in confusion. “I don’t want to get off track here, but that patch Wrath wears—sergeant at arms—it’s not just decorative. It means he’s responsible for the safety and security of the entire club. His job is to protect and defend the members. But his loyalty is to me. And with you being a civilian with no experience in our world and being a lawyer, he had valid concerns that you could harm the club—even unintentionally.” She goes to speak, and I hold my hand up. “I’m not saying I approve of his methods, but you’ve always managed to hold your own, yeah?” “I guess,” she grumbles. Good, I don’t feel like giving her a lesson on the structure of the whole damn club. We’ve got much more important things to get to. “So by being my ol’ lady, that makes you my property—” “Excuse me?” “Again, it’s about respect and commitment, Hope.” “Doesn’t sound very respectful,” she mumbles loud enough for me to catch each word.

I give her a hard stare. “In my world, it is. We’ve already talked about the differences, remember?” She grinds her teeth and huffs, then finally nods. “Property just means you’re under my protection and under the protection of all my brothers. Remember the night of the fight when Z said he’d kill anyone who fucked with you?” “Yeah, but people say stuff like over my dead body all the time.” I shake my head. “Yes, but again. In my world, it actually means something. Z wasn’t talking out of his ass. He’s the one who went with me to take care of those two assholes that ran us off the road, by the way.” Resembling an unruly five-year-old, she slaps her hands over her ears and yelps, “Don’t. Want. Details!” I snatch her hands back. “Okay, okay. But, you get what I’m saying? That goes for all of them. Bricks, Teller, Murphy, and especially Wrath.” “But they would do that for Trinity too, and she doesn’t belong to anyone.” “She belongs to the whole club, Hope.” I circle a finger in the air, then press it over her heart. “You belong to me.” Her eyes flutter shut and then open. I see her turning my words over in her head, and I can tell she’s got a bunch of questions. For now, she keeps them to herself. “You’re protected by the club, but you’re not available to the club,” I clarify. Her face pinches. “I know for a fact Trinity has explained to you that she is fine with that arrangement, so do not get offended on her behalf. That’s her choice.” A quick chin lift tells me that although she agrees with what I said, she’s not happy about it. “As the president’s ol’ lady, you rank higher than her. That’s why she gets so freaked out when you offer to help her in the kitchen and stuff.” “That’s ridiculous. She’s been here for years and knows way more than me.” “Doesn’t matter, doll. That’s how it is. But I want to tell you something. You’ve earned her respect and the guys’ respect by never rubbing that in her face.” “How could I, when I didn’t even know?” I cock my head to the side. “Come on, Hope. You’ve never treated any of the girls badly unless you were forced to. Ol’ ladies usually straight up ignore club girls.” “Why?” Yeah, we’ve veered off topic and I’m eager to get us back on track, so I’m going to let that question slide. “Anyway—” “Don’t ‘anyway’ me.” Fine. “You know how you felt that night when Cookie got in your face?” “Yeah, but Teller said that’s not normal.” “It’s not, which is why I banned her. But remember Roxy and her crew? Clubs

girls are only around for sex. Imagine being around girls who’ve been with your man or you know still are with your man when you’re not around. It gets uncomfortable sometimes.” The battle goes out of her, and she deflates like a balloon. Not what I wanted. “Doll, I cannot do anything about my past. We talked about that. But you’re my future. Some guys still fuck around on their ol’ ladies, I won’t deny it. You don’t ever have to worry. I waited my whole life for you. I’m not gonna fuck it up by tapping every bitch who looks at me sideways. Been there, done that.” All at once, the fire is back. My girl really hates when I use the “b” word. “Normally ol’ ladies segregate themselves from club girls altogether. Unfortunately, you don’t have that luxury since you’re the only ol’ lady.” I give her a smirk, which thankfully she returns. Time to wrap this up and get to the point. “So, you understand that in any crowd of bikers, whether Lost Kings or some other tribe, an ol’ lady being LOKI property is not a derogatory thing. It’s a respect thing. If we had a visiting club here, none of them would approach you unless I okayed it.” “That’s just weird.” “Look at it this way—no one is going to hit on you.” She should appreciate that. Girls usually hate unwanted attention, right? “Great. Put me out to pasture. Call me old and have me thinking every man in the world thinks I’m an ugly hag?” “What?” “Sometimes girls like to be hit on. It reaffirms we still look good. You’re taking that away from me.” Is she fucking with me? “Babe. In my world, hitting on another man’s ol’ lady is absolutely not tolerated. It is grounds for a beat down.” She leans over and kisses me softly. “Then you better compliment me often.” My desire for her is slowly strangling my balls. “In about five minutes, I’m going to have you bent over that bed showing you how fucking hot I think you are.” Her cheeks flush red, and she gestures for me to hurry up. “Trust me, I’ve had to threaten every one of my brothers with physical violence at one time or another because they’ve affirmed how good you look.” A slow smirk spreads across her lips, and a little too late it occurs to me I should have kept that tidbit to myself. “Even Wrath?” She scrunches her nose in disbelief. “Especially him,” I growl. “Especially after that incident in the garage,” I remind her. She turns a nice shade of pink at the memory. Raking my fingers through my hair, I grit out, “Can I please finish?” “I’m all ears.” She sits back, crosses her legs, and gives me her best attentive student stare. Shaking my head, I continue. “So, sometimes when a woman has been taken as an ol’ lady, her man gives her a vest with her own patch.”

Reality seems to crash into her with the force of a freight train. “Are you saying you want to give me that?” she asks softly. Finally. Christ, it took a fucking hour to get to the good part. “Yes.” “Is this the biker equivalent of an engagement ring?” “Sort of. It’s more than that, really. Will you wear it for me?” “Where?” I almost snap, but then I rein it in and realize she’s worried about wearing it in her world. “Only when you’re in my world, babe. I’m not asking you to wear it to court or something.” “Hmmm…so I’ll kinda be like a superhero with a secret identity?” she asks with a sweet lilt in her voice. Fuck, I love this woman. She’s going to be the best ol’ lady ever.

Completely overwhelmed with everything Rock has explained to me, one thought burns brighter than everything else. Whatever this is, it’s a big commitment. Waves of anxiety are rolling off him. Too stunned to give him the answer he wants, I bust out the superhero quip. He seems to appreciate it, though, and some of his tension fades. I hold my breath, then jump. “Of course I’ll wear it.” He blows out a relieved breath, and it hits me how nervous Rock was about this conversation. A shiver of warmth spreads through my chest at the glimpse of vulnerability. I really love this man. It’s starting to sink in that I’m in way deep. Not only with Rock. But with all of his brothers too. And I’m okay with that. As an only child, I never had anyone to look out for me. After my father died and my mother turned into a negligent train wreck, I spent a lot of time fending for myself. My mother didn’t get her act together until I was in my twenties. By then, I’d been taking care of myself for a long time, and she seemed pleased to be relieved of any parental obligations. My husband came through the foster care system with his bitchy sister as his only family. Clay and I formed our own small family, and I never desired anything more. Until now.

Rock is offering me a true family. A bloodthirsty family with a bit of chauvinistic bent. But family. Although I still can’t comprehend the emotional strength it takes to be available to all the brothers, I understand why Trinity feels safe with the club. “Baby doll, you make me so fucking happy.” He stands and pulls me up with him. The way he drags his gaze down my body raises my temperature by at least five degrees. On the way up he lingers on my breasts, then finally locks eyes with me. Those deep, gray depths with flecks of blue turn almost black. Smoldering for me. His jaw ticks. “You’re mine, Baby Doll.” “Yes, I am.” “Going to fuck you now.” He squeezes the words out through gritted teeth. The words are harsh, but his touch is gentle. I hold my breath as he traces his knuckles over my breasts. My nipples harden under his attention, straining through my shirt. He flattens his palms over both breasts, his thumbs drawing tight circles over the peaks. Through my clothes, I still feel the heat and respond instantly. One hand drops to my hip, and I’m yanked against him as he kisses me hard. In between kisses, I breathe out, “Yes.” I’ve got to get my hands on his skin, slide them over the hard muscles. He’s hard everywhere, and I don’t know which of his perfectly sculpted parts I want to fondle first. I break our kiss to tug his shirt up and over his head, then my own. I shimmy out of my pants next and kick them away. Down we tumble to the bed. I put my whole body into kissing him. I want him to feel how much everything he said means to me. And that even if I don’t exactly comprehend everything, I get the intent behind his words. I want him to understand I feel the same way. I honestly think if someone threatened to take him from me, I would kill them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

I t’s time for another club birthday party.

This one better be a lot tamer than the last one I attended with Rock. It’s for Heidi’s seventeenth birthday. She’s been through a lot in the last few months, and everyone wants to make sure she has a nice afternoon. When her brother asked what she wanted, she said something simple with her two girlfriends, Axel, and her club family around her, so that’s what we’re doing. Except we’re doing it at Rock’s house. More specifically his backyard, because he did not want a trio of underage girls up at the clubhouse. Teller and I both agreed that seemed best. For now, Teller is sharing custody of Heidi with their grandmother. Most days it doesn’t go well. He tried to set their differences aside and invited his grandmother here today for the party, but she turned him down. Eventually, this stuff will have to be addressed in family court again, but I’m not going to worry about it now. Instead, I’m thinking about the beautiful cake Trinity brought with her. I’m thinking that it’s a perfect fall day for an outdoor party. Z took charge of the massive stainless steel grill Rock has nestled into the stone patio out back. The guys wanted to do a pig roast today, but Heidi shrieked when they told her, so it’s hot dogs, hamburgers, and chicken that Z is cooking up. “You okay, Baby Doll?” Rock’s arms wrap around my waist, pulling me tight to his front. His lips move against my ear, sending a shiver through me. “Yup.” I turn so I’m looking up at him, and a thrill goes through me. He’s one big, sexy man, and he’s all mine. “You’re sticking around, right?” he asks. “Of course.” He breathes a sigh of relief. “I’ll feel better with a female chaperon.” A quick glance around the party, and I understand why. I trust these guys, but I can see how from the outside it might not look so good. Especially since the girls plan to have a slumber party here afterward. Especially after some of the nasty accusations Heidi’s grandmother made toward the end of the custody dispute. “That seems prudent,” I say.

Rock quirks an eyebrow at me. “It seems like the cautious thing to do,” I explain. He takes his arms from around my waist, plants them at his side, and gives me a sharp glare. “I know what prudent means, Hope.” I’m blushing furiously. Why do I do things like that? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” “Honey, just because I didn’t go on to college doesn’t mean I don’t know all sorts of five-cent words.” His mouth kicks up in a devilish grin, but I sense he’s still annoyed with me. “Had a very hot English teacher,” he elaborates. I roll my eyes at him. Of course he did. “Seems like that would have detracted from your learning instead of enhancing it,” I tease. “Oh, on the contrary, I aimed to impress, so maybe if I ran into her after graduation, I’d have a shot at her.” “And how did that work out?” He only smirks at me. I pop him in the gut with my fist. “Jackass.” Not my smartest move. His abs are like punching a brick wall, and I shake off the sting. “Can’t you two take it upstairs?” Wrath grumbles as he makes his way over on his crutches. “You’re mistaken, bro. She’s fixing to kick my ass, not jump my bones.” Wrath runs his gaze over me. “I don’t think so, brother.” “Jerk,” I grumble. “You know it.” He twists to observe the backyard. “Where’s the birthday girl?” “Inside watching movies with her friends,” I answer. Wrath rolls his eyes skyward. “It’s a beautiful day. They should be outside.” Laughter bubbles out of me. “Okay, Dad. I’ll let them know.” I’m still giggling as I stroll up to the house, and I hear Wrath grumbling behind me. Trinity is in the kitchen prepping trays of food to bring outside. “Do you need help?” She throws me a harried look but shakes her head. “I got it. Maybe, go hang with the girls?” Trinity says as she jerks her head toward the living room. Girlish giggles seep out into the kitchen. “You sure you don’t want to hang with them? You’re closer to their age.” Trinity seems stunned I would even suggest such a thing. “Heidi’s not a big fan of mine.” This is news to me, but it’s not the time to go digging for information. Feeling more than a little awkward, I creep into the living room. Mean Girls is on, but they seem more intent on gossip than the movie. “Is your brother here yet? He’s sooo hot,” Skye giggles. Heidi’s clearly not thrilled by her friend’s assessment of Teller. “Ewww, he’s a disgusting manwhore.” A laugh escapes me, and the girls glance up, startled and guilty expressions all around. “Hi, Hope. Come to watch movies with us?” Heidi asks while making room

for me on the couch. Surprised by the invitation, I mumble, “Sure.” Skye and Penny seem less thrilled by my presence, but they murmur polite hellos at me. From the corner, Axel startles me with a greeting. He’s on the floor, between Heidi’s feet, while she’s running her hands through his hair. Together, they’re a cute picture of teenage romance. “Hey, Axel.” “Does prez need me?” he asks. I can’t tell if he’s looking for a way out or he’s really worried Rock might need him for something. “He didn’t say so, but he’s right outside.” Unfolding himself from the floor, he plants a kiss on Heidi’s cheek and steps out. His big, booted feet haven’t even cleared the room before the girls burst into giggles. “You’re so lucky,” Penny sighs. “Who’s prez that he’s so worried about?” Skye asks. “My Uncle Rock,” Heidi answers with a whole lot of pride in her voice. “Hope’s his girlfriend,” she says while pointing at me. The girls seem less than impressed. “They’re all so old. Aren’t there any other guys in your brother’s club, like Axel’s age?” Penny asks. I tamp down a giggle at that. “Yeah, there’s two other prospects, but they’re older than Axel too.” “High school boys not very interesting these days?” I ask. Skye gives me a cool glance before answering. “We’re seniors now. We can’t date high school boys.” Oh dear. “Food will be ready soon, if you girls want to come out.” Heidi nods. “We’ll be there.” On my way back outside, I intercept Bricks. He gives me a quick hug. “Where’s the birthday girl?” “Inside watching movies with her friends.” He chuckles. “I brought Lisa and Deacon with me, but she’s probably not gonna wanna hang with them in front of her friends.” I’m not so sure about that. Heidi seems to do whatever she wants. “Winter brought Caleb too,” he continues. “Cool. Rock set up some games in the backyard for the little guys.” He’s tapping a big, pink envelope in his hands. When I glance at it, he shrugs. “For Heidi,” he explains while handing it to me. “I’ll stick it on the table.” He goes inside, and I drop the envelope in a box Trinity set up outside for people to deliver their cards and gifts to Heidi. It seems most people brought gift cards, although there is one big box wrapped in green and silver paper on the table. Idly, I

flip over the card and see it’s from Murphy. That should be interesting. “Let’s eat!” Z shouts. Trinity races out of the kitchen to find Wrath. I watch them for a minute, until Rock wraps an arm around my waist. “Hungry?” “Actually, yes.” His lips find my ear, and he gently sinks his teeth into me, sending shivers through my body. “Not here,” I groan. His deep, rumbling chuckle races right through me. We’re interrupted by the girls flying out of the house. Z teases them, makes them say please and thank you about a hundred times before finally feeding them. They’re not amused. After everyone’s eaten, Heidi goes through her presents. She’s collected enough gift cards to fill the closets of three teenage girls. One by one, she reads the cards and thanks everyone. Only Wrath, Teller, Murphy, Axel, Rock and I are standing around when she gets to the last present. “It’s from me, Heidi-bug,” Murphy says with a grin. “I figured.” Heidi rips into it and beams at the helmet inside. “Oh, I love it! Thank you, Blake.” It’s a big, shiny black one with a full face mask, decorated with pink skulls and butterflies. Very Heidi. “We’ll take our ride in a few, okay?” “Yeah.” She smiles shyly. “I didn’t know if we were still doing that.” “Of course, Bug. It’s your birthday.” She bounces on her toes a few more times, then races over to show her girlfriends and Axel the helmet. I quirk an eyebrow at Murphy, which he doesn’t see, because he’s watching Heidi. Teller’s got an uncertain look on his face, but he answers my unspoken question. “They’ve been doing that every year on her birthday since she was like eight.” Wrath shifts and shakes his head. We’re interrupted by Heidi racing back. “Can we go now? Please?” Murphy sets his drink down. A corner of his mouth twists up. “Yeah.” “We haven’t done cake yet,” Wrath advises. Murphy slaps Wrath on the arm. “We won’t be gone long, bro.” We watch them walk down the driveway for a second before Teller walks into the house. Turning back to Wrath and Rock, I sigh. “Aw, that’s sweet that they have a birthday ritual.” Wrath gives me his “are you nuts” face. “What?” “He needs to knock that shit off. It ain’t okay anymore.” He throws a glance at

where Axel is hanging out with Skye and Penny. Wow. Okay. “Wait, I thought you were team Murphy?” Wrath shrugs his massive shoulders. “Axel’s a good kid. He cares about her.” Now I’m utterly confused. “Murphy cares about her.” Wrath looks at me like he’s surprised to find himself in the middle of this conversation. “It’s not about that. It ain’t cool to have another brother’s girl on the back of your bike.” Rock taps Wrath on the shoulder. “We’ll worry about it another day. Axel’s fine. Teller’s fine with it. Let it go.” “Yeah, okay.” All at once, the tension seems to drain out of him. “You seen Trin? She was ripping your kitchen apart looking for a lighter earlier,” he says with a smirk. Rock chuckles. “Yeah, she found it.” “Cool. The cake she made is pretty kick-ass. She’s real excited about it too. Those two better not be gone too long.” He throws a glare down the driveway as the sound of Murphy’s bike starting up fills the air. A giggle bubbles out of me. “You’re so cute,” I say without thinking. Wrath’s blue eyes flare in surprise. “Cute? Sugar, there’s absolutely nothing ‘cute’ about me.” Rock’s staring at me like I just stood up and announced my intention to take up stock-car racing. My mouth opens and closes a few times before I frame what I want to say. “Well, I think it’s cute you’re all worried about Trinity being disappointed if Heidi doesn’t get to see the cake she made for her.” I manage to babble out while sounding very much like a petulant child. Rock and Wrath share a glance. Wrath settles back into a pose of indifference. “She spent a lot of time on it, that’s all, Hope.” “Sure. Okay, Wrath.” I give Rock’s hand a squeeze and then head inside to see if I can help Trinity out.

As soon as Hope’s out of earshot, I burst out laughing. “She so has your number, brother.” “Shut the fuck up.” Wrath loves his lethal image, so I enjoy poking at this one. “Aw, I think it’s nice. She thinks you’re cute. Like a fuzzy puppy or something.” “Jealous?”

“Nope. She’s referred to me as sexy, sexual crack, big and scary, but never cute.” “You want her to find me sexy? Cause I’ll charm the pants right off her if you want.” This whole conversation just stopped being funny. “Thought so,” Wrath says with a grin. “Fuck you.” I’m still watching Hope’s sexy ass swaying away from me. I wish I’d taken her in the garage when I’d had the chance. It might have helped ease some of the leftover tension from earlier. I realize I’d been a bit of a dick, but something about my girl thinking she needed to explain a two-syllable word to me rankled. “Seriously, you think we need to have a talk with Murph?” I can’t even deal with that situation right now. “Dude, she’s known him since she was a kid. It’s their thing. Let it go. If Axel has an issue, he can bring it up.” “Whatever.” We wander back and rejoin the party. The girls are busy teaching Bricks’s kids one of the games we set up outside. It’s a cute picture, and I take a second to appreciate my Lost Kings family all in one place. I’m not related to a single person here by blood, but it doesn’t matter. They’re family. Familiar arms snake around my middle and squeeze. Her scent drifts to me, but I’d recognize her by feel alone. “Hey, baby,” I rasp, placing my hand over hers. I tug her around until she’s facing me and slip my arms around her. “Having fun yet?” she teases. I’m not sure if I would call this afternoon “fun,” but I am content and I tell her so. With everyone else occupied, I nudge Hope into the garage. “Got a project I want to show you.” She rolls her eyes because she knows I’m full of shit. Can’t lie to my girl worth a damn. “Rock,” she whines, “there’s children out—” I cut her off with a kiss and behind her flip the lock on the door. “No windows, baby.” Well, there are windows, but they are high up enough to keep out prying eyes. Warm breath skates over my neck as she lets out a husky laugh. “You’re so bad.” “What? I just wanna show you my latest project.” She smiles and kisses me back until we’re both frantic. Then she ducks to the right, out of my grasp. I shift restlessly, aching from the loss of her body against mine. “Show me your project,” she purrs in a teasing way that surprises me. I look up and catch her watching me with a heavy-lidded, sexy gaze. She slides her tongue along the seam of her lips and I swear I feel it in my cock. “You’re so fucking hot, Hope, but you’re begging for me to spank your ass right

now.” “You wouldn’t dare.” Oh, game on. The whoop, whoop of a police siren interrupts the filthy plans I have for my girl. “What the fuck?” I grumble. Hope’s posture straightens, and she grabs for the door. “Christ, give me a second,” I grind out, pointing to the erection tenting my jeans. She giggles. “Thanks, babe. Laughing at it will definitely help.” Of course, that only makes her laugh harder. “That’s enough. Let’s go see what the problem is.” Of course, Wrath is the one standing closest to the garage and doubles over laughing when he spots us walking out. “Shut up, dick.” Hope’s blushing ten shades of red as she stalks past us and down the driveway in the direction of the glowing red and blue lights. “The fuck?” Wrath shrugs. “Your house, was waiting for you to go deal with it.” Of course. Except it looks like Hope’s got it covered.

“Can I help you, officers?” I call out as I stride over the lawn. “We’re looking for Marcel Whelan. He here?” I whip around and find Rock almost right behind me. “Go find Teller.” He nods and takes off. “What’s the problem?” “You a family member?” “Sort of. I’m also Mr. Whelan’s attorney, so what’s the issue?” He jerks his thumb toward the back of his car, and through the window I spot a tear-streaked, red-faced Heidi. “Oh my God! Heidi?” My gaze shoots to the officer. “What’s going on?” “Caught her out with—” “With Blake? We know. So what? Where is he?” I ask. I need to calm down and compose myself. Put my lawyer game face on. Act like a professional. The officer cocks his head at me and motions me closer. “We got a call about an underage girl out with Mr. O'Callaghan, spotted them, pulled them over. She told

us her family was here, so we brought her here. Her brother is her guardian?” “Yes. He shares custody with their grandmother.” “Okay, so why’s she out with this older guy?” I really don’t care for his tone. “He’s a family friend. You’re interrupting the birthday party we were having for Heidi. Mr. O'Callaghan has known her since she was a kid and takes her out for a ride every year on her birthday. Nothing more, officer.” He nods and finally looks a little embarrassed. “That’s the same story she gave us.” I finally spot Murphy sitting in the back of the car with Heidi. “Then why are they in the back of your patrol car? I’m sure you’ve run Mr. O’Callaghan’s license by now and discovered his record is clean. They weren’t doing anything wrong, so this seems a bit…excessive, don’t you think?” The officer frowns, and I tell myself to tone down the attitude. Except I’m seriously pissed. Who do these guys think they are, scaring the shit out of a seventeen-year-old girl? He looks behind me, and I can tell that Rock and a bunch of other people are standing there now. “Officer, what’s the problem?” “And you are?” “Rochlan North. This is my house. Heidi is my goddaughter. Why is she in the back of your car?” “Heidi! What the fuck?” Teller shouts from behind me. “Easy, brother,” Rock mumbles under his breath, and I sense he must be holding Teller back. “You the brother?” “Yes.” Finally, the cop opens the door and lets Heidi out. Thankfully, they didn’t cuff her. She’s red-faced and sobbing. Ignoring all of us, she runs over the lawn into the house. Crossing my arms over my chest, I eye the officer coolly. “Mr. O’Callaghan? You’ve got no reason to hold him. And I hope to God you didn’t cuff him.” Rock’s gentle touch grazes my arm. Whether he’s telling me to calm down or encouraging me, I’m not sure. I just know that I’m livid right now. Another officer who’d remained quiet this entire time lets Murphy out and uncuffs him. You’ve got to be kidding. “Where’s his bike?” I ask in my sharpest courtroom tone. “On its way to impound.” “You can’t be serious,” I argue. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.” Murphy’s busy flexing his arms and rubbing his wrists. “It’s okay, Hope. I’ll take care of it.”

Never a dull moment around here. Not even for a seventeen-year-old’s birthday party. Unreal. Watching my woman get all fired up and take on two of Empire’s finest over the way they treated one of my brothers? Un-fucking-real. Christ, after all the shit we’ve gone through, that she’s ready to tear into two cops like that? I fucking love her. What a night. And it’s not even over yet. First, we need to go inside. Hope finds Heidi and calms her down. After a lot of reassuring, she convinces Heidi to join us in the kitchen where we’re all waiting to sing happy birthday to her and cut into her birthday cake. Poor Heidi bursts into tears when she gets a look at the giant pink and leopard spotted cake Trinity made for her. She gives Trinity a big, sloppy hug, which seems to shock Trin, but she handles it well. Everyone applauds Heidi for handling her first ride in a cop car like a pro. Axel and Heidi disappear into the backyard right after cake. Trinity drives Murphy down to impound to pick up his bike. Wrath paces around the house like a gimpy, caged animal waiting for them to return. Axel walks Heidi back inside and then takes off for the night. Hope sets the girls up in the living room with more cake, sodas, and the scary movie they picked out. After she’s done with the girls, she pads into the kitchen. Her gaze darts around the room as if she’s trying to figure out what to do next. “Wow. What a night,” she says at last. Wrath’s finally sitting down. He’s busy shredding the label off his beer. Hope settles her hand on his shoulder. “Need anything, big guy?” He glances up, and I see several asshole-ish answers flash across his face, but he just shakes his head. “I’m fine. Thanks, babe.” She squeezes his arm and he captures her hand. “You did good tonight, Hope.” Obvious surprise crosses her face. “What do you mean?” “With the cops. Sticking up for Murphy. Taking care of Heidi.” An uncertain smile curves her lips. “Thanks, Wrath,” she says before making her way to me. Wrapping her up in my arms, I press a kiss against her ear.

“You done?” She lets out a soft snort. “Hardly. I’m going to make them some popcorn. Then I’ll probably sit up with them for a while. You can head to bed if you want?” Not likely. I hold onto her for a minute longer, resting my chin on the crown of her head. My gaze lands on Wrath and he nods at me. Hope pulls away and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Are you okay, Rock?” “I’m good, baby.” She rubs her hands over my back for a minute, then wriggles out of my embrace. I sit with Wrath and watch Hope prep more snacks for the girls. “Hey, did I ever get to tell you I had lunch with Lilly the other day?” she asks over her shoulder. “No,” I answer honestly. She didn’t tell me, but I know because I had Hoot watching her. “How is she?” “Well, it was weird seeing her in professional mode. But she brought a friend of hers along. He works for this lobbying firm and was telling us how all these tech firms are throwing a lot of money into marijuana reform in New York. Isn’t that crazy?” Across from me, Wrath almost chokes on his beer. I shoot a glare at him before answering Hope. “Yeah. It’s interesting.” Hope hums an affirmative noise and continues working at the counter, giving me a chance to reflect on things. A bunch of bullshit has gotten in the way of what’s important to me lately. A handful of stupid secrets and lies almost threatened to blow us apart. And yet, there’s still a few things I’m hiding. One very major thing. After this conversation, I wonder if Hope already suspects the big, green elephant hiding in the clubhouse basement. In time, it will all be out in the open and I’ll deal with the fallout then. Until then, there’s the whole issue of getting Hope’s property patch. Can’t think of a woman who’s ever deserved it more. I’m glad I finally explained the significance of the patch to her. Now, there’s nothing holding me back from bringing it to the table the next time we sit down for church. As I’m sitting here watching Hope’s every move, she turns and flashes a sweet smile at me. I love her so damn much. The club needs to vote her in. Now. Yeah, we’ve got a lot of things to take care of. Very soon.

NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR

These are the original author notes that were published with Corrupting Cinderella on December 2, 2014. As you can see, Strength From Loyalty was originally titled “Deepest Gray” and the novella I mentioned is now known as White Heat (Lost Kings MC Book #5). I had a lot of anxiety about including a “Notes from the Author” last time, but since most people seemed to respond favorably to it, here’s another one. Thank you for returning for the second installment of Rock and Hope’s story. Corrupting Cinderella was originally all about Rock drawing Hope into his shady world, but it ended up being so much more. I hope you loved reading it as much as I loved writing it! Their story will conclude with Deepest Gray (Lost Kings MC, Book #3) to be released in February 2015 and possibly some sort of novella after Wrath’s book—Tattered on My Sleeve (Lost Kings MC, Book #4). I received a number of interesting responses to the end of Slow Burn that I didn’t expect. I ended it on what is known as a “Happy for Now Ending” but I had a lot of…criticisms about it that. By the way, I took this as a compliment, because it just meant people had a lot of love for Rock and Hope. But it got me thinking— what constitutes a Happily Ever After anyway? Marriage? Babies? My own parents were married for eight years and divorced three years after having me, so I’ve never really thought of marriage and babies as a HEA. But I consider myself a romance writer and one of the things I love so much about reading romantic fiction is that you are always guaranteed a happy ending of sorts. Although I’m crafting romantic fiction, I also like to strive for some realism. Relationships are hard work. Happy endings don’t magically happen. You still need to work at them after you ride off into the sunset together. To me, exploring the reality of a lawyer and an unapologetic-yet-somehow-honorable criminal getting together was going to have a lot of twists, turns and compromise. Especially if I was going to keep both characters true to themselves. Honestly, Hope wouldn’t be very likeable if she just accepted every single thing about Rock’s strange world without some resistance. And no one would like Rock if he ditched his club to become an upstanding citizen in order to be with Hope. So, they both needed to work out some

middle ground. I found their muddling through that thorny clashing of their very different worlds interesting and fun to write, and I hope you find it fun to read. Once again, I strived for accuracy in any medical, legal and law enforcement scenes. But once again, I also bent things to suit my needs when required. When I started writing this in January 2014, I only expected it to be one book about Rock and Hope. But as I kept writing, the other characters (Wrath especiallyI had to take a good three weeks in July 2014 to get a chunk of his story down because he just won’t shut up!) became much clearer and demanding. People who read it kept telling me it needed to be a series because they wanted to know more about Wrath, Trinity, Z, Murphy and Sophie. With Corrupting Cinderella, I tied up some loose ends from Slow Burn. I also intentionally (and probably unintentionally) created some new ones that I plan to tie up in later books. Those little threads are what make it fun for me to read a series, and I hope you feel that way about my series. What made me happiest about the responses to Slow Burn was how many people embraced my version of an MC Romance that was heavier on the romance and lighter in grit than most. I heard from a lot of people who agreed that they too were tired of the abusive treatment of women in fiction these days. The wonderful response to Rock’s special brand of loving alpha hero has been amazing. Thank you for reading! Autumn

CORRUPTING CINDERELLA PLAYLIST BY AUTUMN JONES LAKE

Sweet and Wild - Dierks Bentley Light it Up - Rev Theory Thick as Thieves - Cavo Rock You All Night Long - Royal Bliss Outlawed - Attila Thug Life - Attila Can You Feel My Heart - Bring Me the Horizon Forever in Your Hands - All That Remains You’re Not Alone - Of Mice & Men Jezebel - Memphis May Fire These Things I’ve Done - Sleeping With Sirens The Way of the Fist - Five Finger Death Punch As Diehard as They Come - Hatebreed Just Keep Breathing - We Came as Romans Dead in a Grave - Rev Theory I Survive - We Came as Romans Payback - Attila You’re the One - Rev Theory Pool of Booze, Booze, Booza - Volbeat Perfect - My Darkest Days Die For You - Otherwise Where Did the Party Go? - Fall Out Boy

CHARACTER INTERVIEW #2: HOPE AND ROCK

Interviewer’s Notes: This time, I’m the one running late for my interview with Rock and Hope. They’re sitting at a table in the back of Uncommon Grounds completely focused on each other. I have to clear my throat a couple time to get their attention, before finally just pulling out a chair and sitting. Interviewer: Let’s get right to the good stuff, Rock can you name one nonsexual thing Hope does that you find sexy? Rock: Everything she does is hot as fuck. Interviewer: Anything more specific? Rock: (glances at Hope) The way she speaks her mind, even if she knows what she has to say won’t be well-received. Interviewer: Nice. Okay, Hope what is the most romantic thing Rock has done for you? Hope: He got dressed up in a suit to take me to a fundraiser, even though I know how much he hates doing that kind of thing. It meant a lot to me. Interviewer: Really? Rock: (shrugs) We had a good time. Hope: (kisses Rock’s cheek and whispers something in his ear that makes him smirk.) Interviewer: Name one thing you adore about Hope and one thing you could do without? Rock: Love everything about her. Smart, sexy, sass-mouthed. What’s not to love? Interviewer: That’s quite a list. Anything that drives you nuts? Rock: Nope. Learned my lesson from the last time I was asked that question. Hope: (laughs) Interviewer: Hope, can you name something you love about Rock and something that drives you nuts? Hope: Love that Rock understands me and loves me, flaws and all. Rock: Sure do, baby. Interviewer: That’s sweet. Any dislikes? Hope: He’s always so worried about taking care of everyone else, sometimes it’s

hard to take care of him. Interviewer: Hope, are you more comfortable in your role as Rock’s old lady now? Hope: (snorts) No. I don’t think I’ll ever be your typical ol’ lady. Rock: (mumbles) Thank fuck for that. Interviewer: Hope, you and Trinity have gotten really close, got any dirt for us about what’s going on between her and Wrath? Hope: (laughs out loud) Gosh, no. It’s impossible to pry any information out of her. Rock: They’re working their shit out. Slowly. Interviewer: Thank you for your time. Hope: Thank you. BACK TO Table of Contents

STRENGTH FROM LOYALTY (Lost Kings MC #3) Copyright 2015 © Autumn Jones Lake Original Publication Date: March 17, 2015

ISBN-10:0990794547 ISBN-13: 978-0-9907945-4-7 Cover Designed by: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations Edited by: Cassie McGowan at Gathering Leaves Edited by: Marti Lynch Photography: Period Images Models: James and Jax. Formatted by Max Effect Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data/Lake, Autumn Jones

CHAPTER ONE

The

thought of Hope wearing my property patch gets me harder than a motherfucker. It’s time for me to announce my intent at church. Technically, I don’t need the club’s approval. I can claim whoever I want. But if I’m going to give her the Lost Kings property patch, I need the votes of my officers. Even though she doesn’t yet realize it, being my old lady gives Hope a lot of power. She knows, or will learn, shit law enforcement would love to know. Giving her this patch is more than decorative. It’s more than my caveman need for everyone to know she belongs to me. It means not only am I taking one hundred percent responsibility for Hope, but so are my brothers. I trust her completely, and my brothers know I don’t trust lightly. The clubhouse is quiet. All our guests from last night have departed. Wrath looks downright exhausted as he hobbles in on his crutches and drops into the chair on my right. “You feelin’ all right?” For once, he’s not smirking. “Yeah. Fuckin’ cast is bullshit.” “Slowin’ your game?” Z asks helpfully from my left. “Brother’s got no game. Trinity’s been carrying his balls around in her back pocket for weeks,” Dex snarks. Everyone chuckles, even Wrath. Instead of some pissed-off retort, my friend laughs and shakes his head. Interesting. The rest of the guys seem to be having some sort of contest to see who can get their ass in their chair the slowest. Sparky is naturally the last one in. He’s jittery from being away from his plants for more than five seconds. We go through regular club business and get it out of the way. Teller reports to us that earnings are good. All club accounts are flush and balanced. He reads the numbers off a sheet of paper, passes it around for everyone to review, then shreds it. Sparky reports a fresh crop is almost ready. We have an increased demand from Green Street Crew, but we’ll be able to meet it along with the new pipeline I lined up. Sparky is excited about his newest strain. Stash asks for extra help with packaging.

Z and Dex report Crystal Ball is doing well and they’ve secured a few new feature dancers to replace the void left by Inga. Wrath informs everyone he’s decided on a trainer to teach his classes at the gym. He asks the brothers to help him keep an eye on things while he’s laid up, and we work out a schedule. Murphy brings up a run that’s been scheduled for months. With Wrath unable to ride, someone needs to take his place. We still have a little time to deal with that, so I table it for later discussion. Wrath offers to turn in his cut since he can’t ride. His offer is voted down with a “fuck no” from all members. “There’s an exception in the bylaws for injuries, you fuckhead, so stop offering,” Z grouches at Wrath. Wrath flips him off, and that discussion is over. Once general club business is out of the way, I excuse everyone except my officers: Wrath, Z, Teller, and Murphy. Expectation is written all over each face. No reason for a speech. “I want to give Hope a property patch.” It shouldn’t really be a surprise, but they act like I dropped a fucking live nuke in the middle of the table. After a few beats, Z asks, “You asking for our votes, prez?” “Yes.” Z nods slowly. I meet every one of their gazes head on, settling on my enforcer last. “You lay it out for her?” he asks. “Yes.” “Everything?” Wrath pushes. Through clenched teeth, I spit out, “Not quite.” Wrath’s eyes widen in a “what the fuck you waitin’ for” face that I want to punch. “She knows enough. I trust her. You heard her the night of the party. It ain’t gonna rattle her.” Wrath nods slowly and turns to the rest of the guys. Teller is the first one to raise his hand. “She’s been real good to Heidi. Trinity too. She’s got love for the club. Prez is happy. She gets my vote.” Wrath’s shrewd gaze focuses on Teller as he takes that all in. That’s fuckin’ right, brother. She jumped in to help one of us out. Murphy raises his hand next. “She’s a classy girl. Doesn’t give anyone grief. She was ready to rip those cops’ heads off after Heidi’s party. Abso-fucking-lutely.” Yeah, my girl got herself pretty worked up that night. The memory of her standing in my front yard, hands on her hips, giving those pigs hell still makes me smile. Z has been good to my girl. He’s taken on more of a friendly, brotherly role to counteract Wrath’s dickishness. He’s enthusiastic with his praise. “She keeps her shit locked down. Took that bullshit the club girls heaped on her with class. Treats

Trinity with respect. Never cops an attitude in public, even though I know she gives prez hell when they’re alone. Fuck yes.” His little endorsement makes me chuckle, because even when she’s pissed at me, I still want to stick my dick in her so bad I ache. Wrath can make or break this. He’s been my best friend for a long damn time, but I also know he’s got a lot of reservations about Hope’s innocence when it comes to the MC. The club comes first, but if he kills this for me, I’m gonna have a hard time looking at his face for a while. He levels his cool enforcer stare on me. “You trust her?” “You know I do.” “You trust her with your life? Our lives?” He points to everyone at the table. “Yes, she’d never spill club business.” Wrath nods, and my tension level ratchets down a notch. “How much club business you gonna let her in on?” he asks. “She understands but said she doesn’t want details in case she ever ends up having to represent one of us in court.” Wrath seems surprised by my answer. “Okay. You got my yes.” Thank fuck. I point to Z. “Order it up.”

I’ve just stepped out of the shower when I hear a thump-thump on my front door. Dripping water and muttering a bunch of curses, I grab my robe and scurry down the hallway. By the sound of the fist against my door, it can only be Rock. My mouth turns up and my belly flutters with excitement, imagining him on the other side. Flinging open the door, I greet him with, “Why haven’t I just given you a key?” The hardened expression he’s wearing breaks with a smile. “‘Cause we’re never here, Baby Doll.” Wrapping his arms around me, he picks me up and plants a hungry kiss on my lips. I take in his crisp outdoor scent and savor the sensation of our bodies pressed together, his arms holding me tight. Every time we touch, I swear it’s as exciting as the first time. As he sets me down, his gaze skims over me, from wet hair to bare feet. His grip on my hips tightens. “Do you realize when I see you fresh from the shower, it makes me want to get you all filthy again?” His words, combined with the lascivious gleam in his smoky eyes, cause my

breath to catch. I wish I were wearing something sexier than my ratty old terrycloth robe. Not that he seems to mind. Before I can come up with an appropriate response, he pounces, picking me up and scanning the area. By some silent agreement, we’ve never really ventured into my bedroom together. Like Rock said, we’re rarely here. And there’s a whole lot of other surfaces he enjoys defiling. At the moment, he’s eying my dining room table with less-than-noble plans. Since I usually eat alone when I’m here, the only thing my dining room table is doing right now is supporting a pile of mail I’ve yet to go through and a basket of laundry I was planning to sort after my shower. I never know how long Rock will be when he has “church,” and I never ask what the club discusses at the table. I trust if he wants me to know, he’ll tell me. Let’s face it. I probably don’t want to know. He kicks out one of the chairs and sits down, setting me on my feet. His hands immediately go to my robe, working the knot loose in no time. A shiver works through me when the material parts. His hands cup my hips, his thumbs stroking my belly. He nudges me in small increments until my butt is resting against the edge of the table. “I’m starving, baby.” I open my mouth to answer, to tell him I’ll make him something for dinner. But the white-hot scrutiny of his gaze tells me he’s not talking about food. His hands travel up, smoothing my robe off my shoulders. He flicks the material over the table and stands. Tipping my head back, his serious face comes into view, stormgray eyes darting from my lips to my breasts and lower. My heart thuds in my chest as he leans in, his lips finding mine. No matter how many times we kiss, each time is electrifying. Full, firm lips press hard against mine. One of my hands dives into his thick hair, pulling him closer. He responds by tugging me against him tighter. A lick against my bottom lip, and I respond with one of my own. Rock groans, and the sound sends shivers through me. I’m very aware of my nakedness and the fact that he’s still fully dressed. My beaded nipples rubbing against the soft fabric of his shirt sets me on fire. Big, rough hands skate up my sides, cupping my breasts, thumbs rubbing my nipples. My hips shoot forward, grinding against him, and I gasp for breath, breaking our kiss. “Lie back for me,” he commands, voice low and rumbling with need. My mouth opens to protest, but I decide I’d rather see what he has in mind first. Because I know whatever it is, it’ll be good. Before I do what he asked, my hand reaches out and brushes against him. He’s hard, erection straining against his jeans. I can’t fucking wait. He helps me lie back on the table, pushing mail and stuff out of his way. I flinch

at the soft flapping of fabric and envelopes hitting the floor, and he presses a finger to my lips. “Stop. We’ll take care of it later.” I nod. Who can think about mail when a man like Rock wants to do all sorts of delicious things to you? He slides one finger down the length of my body as he walks to the end of the table and sits back down. One of his hands wraps around one of my ankles and lifts my foot to the table. Feeling much too exposed, I hesitate when he goes to lift the other one. “Hope,” he warns. “Rock, don’t,” I plead. I haven’t been to the waxer or anything in too long. He sighs. “When will you learn?” Then he picks up my other foot, placing my heel on the edge of the table. My knees slam together, and he traces a hand down my calf, his mouth following the same path. “Open,” he murmurs against my skin. I can’t resist. His voice, his touch, his hot breath tickling over me. My legs part, but he doesn’t dive right for me. His hands slide up the inside of my thighs—hard enough not to tickle, soft enough to send pleasurable tingles through me. My legs part a little more. “That’s better.” I can’t speak, so I respond with, “Mmm.” His thumbs rub over my quivering outer lips, massaging and kneading my warm flesh. The first touch of his fingertip over my clit makes me hiss and bump up my hips. “So sensitive and ready for me.” I nod my head but can’t get out any words as I fall into the sensation. His thumb teases over the tip of my clit again. My back arches with ripples of pleasure, offering myself to him. He lets out a satisfied grunt and pushes closer. Suddenly, his tongue laps at me, and my hips shoot off the table. “Easy, baby.” But, oh, that feels good. Hot caresses with his tongue subtly pressing down. Wave after wave of heat crashes through me as he keeps applying soft pressure, stroking in a steady pattern. So close. My body is so close. I strain, needing a little more. The lapping stops. Sealing his mouth over my clit, he sucks, and I scream out. He keeps going, growling as I squirm and wriggle, pushing my pussy harder against his face. His hands hold my hips where he wants them as he keeps kissing and licking me. Hooking his arms under my legs, he hoists me higher, burying his face, sucking and licking at me harder. “Shit!” I can’t. The sensations are too much. I’m climbing higher and higher, about to shatter. Sweet pleasure unfurls from my core through my body. I’m still yelling and thrashing around, but he keeps me where he wants me. Over and over, his tongue

sweeps over my pussy. Gently, he eases me back onto the table. Slipping two fingers inside me, he curls them against that special spot while flattening his hand on my belly and pressing me into the table. “Rock, what—” I try to lift my head, but his mouth latches onto my clit again. His fingers keep rubbing and stroking, slow at first, then more insistent. My legs are trembling so hard they fall to the sides. Briefly, he lifts his head from between my thighs. “Come for me.” “I did. I don’t think…” He growls against me, sending shocking vibrations through my core. I’m done. Shattered. Flying through time and space. I barely have a chance to come down when Rock slides me off the table, grips my hips, and flips me over. My legs are like jelly, so I curl my fingers over the edge of the table and hang on. An excited tingle races through me at the clink of his belt. The lazy ticking sound of his zipper lowering. The reaction in me is automatic—I rise on tiptoes, arching my back, offering myself. And he takes me. Rough hands cup my hips, holding me in place while he pounds into me from behind. My breasts are squished, trapped between me and the table. Planting my elbows, I lift up and push myself back. “Don’t stop,” I chant breathlessly, over and over. I’ll die if he stops. “No chance,” he grunts out, barely out of breath. “You comin’ for me again, doll?” I open my mouth to answer, but pleasure grabs me and I let out a wailing moan instead. His furious thrusting doesn’t let up as I scream through my orgasm. “That’s it, Baby Doll. Give me everything.” He lets out a deep, satisfied groan and warm wetness sizzles over my back. I turn my head and quirk up my mouth at him. It takes him a second to come back to himself. When he does, he meets my gaze, a flicker of worry passing over his face. “You mad?” I hold down my grin as long as possible. “No, I’m not mad.” I get a playful slap on my ass. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.” When he’s done cleaning me up, I get soft kisses along my neck and shoulder. “Come on, my sticky little girl, let’s go wash you up,” Rock says as he hoists me into his arms. Looping my arms around his neck, I burrow my face against his shoulder, running my mouth over his skin. I love the salty taste of my man. He growls, moving us faster to the bathroom. Inside, he sets me down gently next to the tub and gets the shower going. Feeling suddenly overwhelmed, I trace my finger down his arm. He turns and gives me a questioning look. “Did you… Have you always done that?” I don’t have to be more specific. Another flicker of concern. “No, baby. I don’t

know why.” His dark-gray stare roams over my face. “I’ve never done that before. Before you. Does it bother you?” A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “No.” A relieved smile spreads across his face. “Go on. Get in.” As soon as he steps in behind me, I turn and wrap my arms around his waist. I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and the need to be close. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him to spend the night here—something we haven’t done yet. I open my mouth, but a strangled sob comes out instead. “What’s wrong?” Rock asks, leaning over to swipe my bangs out of my eyes. I force up the corners of my mouth. “Nothing, baby. You just overwhelm me.” “Did I hurt you? Before?” he asks, his face darkening. “No. Not at all. I love everything we do. Always.” He still doesn’t look convinced. “I think I just missed you a lot today.” His face softens, and he runs his hands over my arms. “Missed you too. Thought about you all day,” he says with a secret smile. After we’re squeaky clean and wrapped in towels, Rock turns to me. “Mind if I shave?” “Not at all. Although, I’m kind of digging the scruff on you.” He gives me a lopsided grin. Reaching up, I run my fingers through his hair. “I like that you’re wearing your hair a little longer, too.” His eyelids close briefly. Almost as if he’s embarrassed. “Haven’t had time to get it cut.” I’ve never thought of Rock doing something so mundane. It’s difficult to picture him sitting still in a barber’s chair for a simple haircut. An easier scenario to imagine is Trinity sitting all the guys down once a month and sheering them like reluctant sheep. It’s an amusing image. “Hang on. I’ll grab you a razor. There’s none in here anymore.” When I return, Rock’s facing the door, patiently waiting. “I’m sorry. All I have are girly pink ones.” “Babe, I’m more than man enough to shave with a pink razor,” he says while holding out his hand. “Well, manly man, the only shaving cream I have is also pink and strawberryscented.” He chuckles, then eyes me up and down. Suddenly, I’m self-conscious about how I’ve been running around the house in such a skimpy towel. “What?” Rock rubs his hand over his chin and down his neck while his gaze roams over my body. “I was just thinkin’ maybe my scruff can wait.” He picks up the razor, twirling it between his fingers. “Instead, maybe I should use this pretty pink razor to shave my pussy, so next time I want it, you’re not pulling away from me.”

I’m struck dumb by his words. “Excuse me?” “You heard me,” he says, setting down the razor. His strong arms band around me, lifting me in the air so he can kiss my forehead. “That pussy is mine, baby. I don’t like you hesitating when I want to see it.” My skin is so hot and tight. I’m sure I’m blushing like crazy. “You’re so dirty.” “You just realized this now?” Soft smacks rain down over my ass, and I squeal and wriggle out of his hold. “Aren’t you satisfied yet, caveman?” He grins and plants another kiss on the top of my head. “I can’t ever get enough of you, baby.” “Shave. Worry about my bush later.” With a smirk, Rock ducks back into the bathroom, and I run down the hall to get dressed. While waiting for him to finish shaving, I bend over to pick up the mail and other things we tossed on the floor earlier. One envelope stops me cold. Unfolding myself from the floor, I turn it over in my hands. The New York State Attorney Grievance Committee. Mailed over a week ago. Of course, I haven’t been home much to check the mail, so it’s probably been sitting here like a career-ending bomb. My heart drops to my stomach. My fingers tremble so hard I can barely rip open the seal and get the letter out. I’ve never been in trouble in my life. In fact, I’ve always been teased for being the “good girl.” The oath I took to become a lawyer is important to me. I take it seriously. Mentally running through all the cases I’ve handled in my career, I can’t think of anything I’ve ever done that could be construed as malpractice. Hell, I’ve only had two clients in the last year and a half. Both connected to Rock. Both cases he practically forced on me. Dammit! Since complaints cannot be made anonymously, I see it’s Winter’s ex who filed the grievance. He’s claiming, first, it was a conflict of interest for me to represent Winter when I had previously represented her boyfriend. That one is bullshit, and I’m surprised the committee is even investigating it. It’s the next one that makes my chest constrict and my fingers go numb. He claims I am involved in a criminal enterprise. That my representation of members of the Lost Kings, a known criminal organization, is personal, and I’m bending the law to cover up their crimes. This is why they’re investigating me. From what I understand about the process, normally I would be given an opportunity to submit a response in writing. But they’re actually calling me in for a face-to-face interview. “Hope, what’s wrong?” Freshly shaved and too handsome for my sanity, Rock strolls into the dining room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. With a shaky hand, I pass

the letter to him. “What’s this?” “I’m being investigated by the disciplinary committee for ethics violations.” “What the fuck for?” My jaw tightens. “Winter’s ex. The case you forced me to take.” As soon as I drop the words in the air, I have a twinge of regret. But I thrust up my chin and glare at him. “Babe, I’ll take care of this. That motherfuck—” My rage boils over. He doesn’t get it. “Don’t you fucking dare! If anything happens to him, it will be so much worse for me. It will look like everything in his complaint is true!” He moves to put his arms around me, and I flinch. “Don’t touch me.” “Hope—” “No. I’m so fucking mad at you right now. You pushed me into taking that case when I wasn’t ready. Do you know what this kind of thing will do to my career?” The years I spent in law school, suffering through the bar exam, all the struggling I did to stay afloat before Clay died—all of it for nothing now if I lose my license to practice law. “None of it is true.” “It doesn’t matter! They’re actually calling me in before the committee. So someone thinks it’s got merit. Most complaints go unfounded, and the attorney never even knows about them. They should have given me a chance to answer it in writing. You don’t understand how bad this is, Rock.” This is so humiliating. How will I ever explain this to my friends? If I get disbarred, it will be made public. Even if I manage to skate out of this with a suspension or warning, it still gets published. Everyone will know. Rock runs a hand through his hair. “Hope, let me fix this. The club—” I can’t believe he still isn’t getting it. His “fixing it” will make things worse. Without thinking through my words, I explode. “Fuck the fucking club! You and your stupid club are what got me in trouble!” Oh no. I want to yank back the words the second they leave my lips. The shock and anger they bring to Rock’s face is a gut punch I can’t handle. His eyes go cold, and he storms down the hall. When he comes back, he’s fully dressed. He tosses the letter on the counter. I’m frantically trying to wipe tears off my cheeks. I’m humiliated enough. I don’t need him to see me crying too. But he barely throws a glance at me as he marches out the door.

CHAPTER TWO

F uck the fucking club.

Those words keep banging around inside my skull. The day I get her voted into the fucking club. I’ve never been a fan of irony. When I finally hit the highway, I can breathe again. I don’t even know where I’m going. The clubhouse is out. There’s no way I could look my brothers in the eye right now. Fuck the fucking club. I should have seen this coming. No matter how many fucking talks I have with her, she’s never going to get it. Our relationship was bound to go to shit eventually. For miles and miles, I drive like a bull out the gate. The memory of Hope’s furious face chases me down the road. Even after I’ve put a good chunk of highway behind me, I still can’t stop picturing her face. And there’s something else there I can’t quite put my finger on. Embarrassment. Hurt. Fuck. From the day we met, I’ve known how insecure and sensitive my girl is. Since I find everything about her fucking perfect, I’d forgotten about her self-esteem issues. A seed of doubt weasels its way into my concrete block of self-righteousness. I’d been so infuriated when she rejected my offer to help her I didn’t consider her feelings at all. No. All I thought about was how to fix it. Along with the doubt, I’m pissed because she’s right. I pushed her into doing that case and now she’s going to have a whole lot of bullshit to deal with because of my heavy-handedness. Slowing down, I take in my surroundings. I’ve managed to put a good ninety miles between us. Impressive. Finding a motel to crash in is easy. Our downstate charter would take me in, no questions asked, and find a spot for me. I’m tempted because their clubhouse isn’t far, but I really need to be alone. What’s not easy is checking my phone and finding no calls or texts from Hope.

Not that I expected an apology. But I’d rather have her bitching me out some more than nothing at all. The ride back the next morning seems to take forever. I stop at Hope’s house first, but she’s not there. It’s probably for the best, because I can’t fight with her again. Even with all my realizations last night, that fuck the club thing is still messing with my head. Z meets up with me in my office, a stupid jolly grin on his face. A simple, “Hey,” is all I manage before he starts letting me in on why he’s so excited. “Kiss my ass now, fucker. Hope’s cut should be ready later this week. Patches and everything.” Fuck me. “You want to have a party or give it to her in private?” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Uh, she’s going through some stuff. I may wait on it a little bit.” Christ, wait on it might be putting it mildly. His face falls. “Seriously?” I pull him into the conference room and, just my fucking luck, Wrath spots us before I get the door closed. “Where you been, dick? I’m fucking bored.” He hobbles in and drops his ass in the first chair he sees. Z’s watching me with an intense expression. “What’s going on with your girl?” Wrath perks up at that. “That fucking ex of Winter’s reported Hope to the attorney whatever board. It’s bad. She has to go in and explain herself. It’s all bullshit, but she’s pretty upset.” I leave out our argument. “Me and Bricks will go take care of the little fuck,” Z says, already pulling out his cell phone. I hold up a hand between us. Hope was right to reject my offer to take care of it. That became clear to me on my little run downstate. “No. One of the things he’s accusing her of is covering up ongoing criminal activity for us. Something happens to him, she’s toast.” I can feel the anger radiating off Wrath, so I turn and face him. “It’s all bullshit. He’s taking a stab in the dark to get even for losing his case.” “Don’t get pissed, but what’s our exposure here?” Wrath asks. His meaning is clear, and it does piss me the fuck off. “Nothing, you fuck. That’s not what it’s about. It’s not the fucking cops she has to talk to. It’s a bunch of stuffed shirts who are going to decide if she gets to keep her license or not.” Wrath’s immune to my outburst. He nods but doesn’t say anything. Z taps my shoulder. “Uh, we have another issue. What the fuck has Bricks told Winter, and did she blab any of it to her baby daddy?” Fuck. In all my fury, I didn’t even consider that possibility. “Last I knew, she was pretty clueless. He’s met Bricks, though. He saw me at the

hearing. I had words with him outside when he attacked Hope. I owe him a fucking beatdown for laying his hands on her.” I seethe with rage at the memory. “I’m sure he took notice of the cuts and decided to make up a story to fuck with Hope. Bricks is fucking solid. You know that.” “Since we can’t kill this fucker right now, how’s Hope doing? Anything we can do for her?” Wrath offers. Trying not to show my surprise at his concern, I shake my head. “Uh, she’s a little pissed at me. I kinda pushed her into taking the case when she wasn’t really feeling it…” Z shakes his head. “That fucking sucks. I’m sorry, brother. You gonna work it out?” “I think so.” Wrath’s still watching me with his shrewd enforcer expression. “When’s the hearing?” he finally asks. I sigh and try to recall what the letter said. “Tomorrow.” “You gonna go?” “Fuck no. That’ll just make it worse.” Wrath looks at me like I’m nuts. “You’re gonna let your woman walk into that shit storm alone?” His tone makes it clear he thinks I’m being a douche. Z makes a duh face at me. “Just don’t wear your cut, asshole.”

Adam scratches his head and slips into that maddening lawyer mode he does so well. “Hope, you know as well as I do that the most ethics complaints come from family or mat law cases. That’s why I do T&E. All the people I owe a duty to are dead. Can’t report me if I fuck up.” Leave it to Adam to see it that way. I came here for some guidance because jumping off a bridge seemed like too much work. Now I’m reconsidering. “I didn’t fuck up,” I grumble at him. “I know you didn’t.” I jab my finger at the stupid letter. “The one about me representing her current boyfriend I can knock out. That one’s not the problem. I just couldn’t represent either one of them in the future against each other. The other thing he’s accusing me of—ongoing criminal activity based on my association with Rock’s club—that’s a problem.” He makes a frowny, twisty-lipped face that doesn’t look encouraging. “Hope, from what I remember—and you know I prefer to spend the ethics portion of CLEs

napping—you’ve got to have a damn good reasonable basis before you can disclose client confidences to anyone. You represented your man for what? Some weed? And you’re supposed to extrapolate what from that? That he’s going to smoke weed in the future? Who gives a flying fuck?” He’s right, except I have an inkling the Lost Kings are into other things. Okay, more than an inkling. The illegal underground fighting and betting for one. Crap, I was a spectator at Wrath’s fight, so that makes me an accessory or something. I’m pretty sure Rock and Z murdered or at least attempted to murder the guys who ran us off the road. Although it’s probably a gray area, I don’t think I’m obligated to disclose those things to anyone. Rock told me about those guys after he’d already taken care of it, so I couldn’t report that to anyone. I feel a little more optimistic about my chances. “Thanks, buddy. It helped to talk this out.” A sharp stabbing pain rushes through my side. Ouch. Just what I need. Cramps and my period tomorrow when I have to deal with this interview. My cycle has been weird since getting on the birth control shot. Heat curls in my belly at the thought of Rock. Shame for how I lashed out at him isn’t far behind. “You okay, Hope?” “Yeah.” “You’re welcome to hang out here if you want and do some research to prepare.” Actually, I want to pop four Advil and crawl into bed with my heating pad, but he’s right. I need to prepare myself. I take my time gathering enough cases and information to draft a brief but—in my opinion—eloquent statement. When I get home, I collapse into tears. Rock hasn’t called. He hasn’t even sent me a text. I’m terrified that I fucked things up beyond repair. And for what? A career I’m pretty sure I don’t even want anymore.

CHAPTER THREE

I recognize one of the three old white men who make up the grievance committee.

He’s a judge I’ve been in front of numerous times, and he smiles at me as I take my seat. Smoothing my skirt over my thighs, I curse the room for being so hot. A bead of sweat rolls down my spine, and I shift. I’m so nervous my abdomen won’t stop cramping, and I’m barely able to keep my breakfast down. “Ms. Kendall, we realize it’s unusual to call you in first, but since the allegations were so abnormal, we thought we should just get to it,” old white man number one says. One after another, they pepper me with questions. Trying to trip me up. I want to throw the statement I prepared yesterday at them and say, “There, read that!” but I maintain my composure and answer their questions the best I can. In the end, I know nothing, so that’s what I tell them. I represented Elias Serrano in a custody matter. Rochlan North in a misdemeanor possession charge. And Winter Curtis before the support magistrate. Mr. North runs a motorcycle club, but I don’t know a lot about it. Mr. Serrano works for Mr. North. And Ms. Curtis and Mr. Serrano are dating. Anything other than that is privileged information that I won’t disclose. As for ongoing criminal cover-up, I work my best innocent youcan’t-be-serious expression. When I’m done, my bangs are plastered to my sweaty forehead. Great. All this sweating probably spells guilty to them. Judge Gibson smiles at me warmly and turns to old white man numbers one and two. “I think we can agree this complaint is nonsense. There really is no reason to investigate this further.” Surprisingly, they agree. I’m free. As I step into the hallway, I dig my cell phone out of my purse and send Rock a text. I’m sorry. Simple, direct, and honest. While I’m waiting for the elevator, I wobble a bit. The whole time I was in the meeting, I couldn’t stop sweating. Now I’m freezing but still sweaty.

I sway as I step into the elevator and press C for concourse. The motion of the creaky old box rocks my stomach. A few deep, cleansing breaths later, I burst out of the elevator. Rock is standing directly across on the other side of the metal detectors everyone has to go through before they go upstairs. His head is down while he checks his cell phone. From here, I see a smile cross his face. The ding of the elevator catches his attention, and he tips up his head. His happy expression morphs into panic as he strides over. “Hope, are you okay?” I’m too embarrassed to tell him it’s a combination of nerves and my period, so I fake a smile. “What are you doing here?” “I didn’t want you going through this alone.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at the security guard. “They wouldn’t let me upstairs.” My breathing falters. My vision swims. “Baby, you don’t look very good.” He takes me into his arms. “Honey, you’re awfully cold.” Blinding agony burns through my left side, and I’m suddenly painfully uncomfortable down there. A veil of red blurs my vision. Blackness swirls over my eyes. Then I’m lost.

The second I see Hope, I know something’s wrong. Her normally pale, creamy skin is almost waxy. Rushing to her, I see she’s sweat-soaked. What did those assholes do to her up there? I know she must have been scared, but her reaction seems awfully extreme. Even for her. “Hope, are you okay?” Her lips tremble. “What are you doing here?” “I didn’t want you going through this alone.” The whole time we’re talking, all I can think about is how much I fucking love her. Her sweet, simple “I’m sorry” text really got to me. I was about to send her one of my own when she appeared looking like death warmed over. “Baby, you don’t look very good.” She seems close to hitting the floor, so I wrap my arms around her. Touching her cheek scares the shit out of me. “Honey, you’re freezing.” Next thing I know, she collapses in my arms. The pudgy security guard who gave me shit when I tried to go upstairs rushes

over. “Sir, what happened?” “I don’t know. She fainted.” I’m crouching on the floor, holding her in my arms. She’s breathing, but it’s shallow. I tap her cheek. “Hope, baby?” Nothing. A state trooper comes over to help just as I realize something wet is seeping into my jeans. Jesus Christ. She’s bleeding! What the fuck? “Call an ambulance,” I roar. The trooper kneels down and checks her pulse. He sees the blood on my hands and shifts into action. “Sir, an ambulance will take forever. Empire Medical is right up the road. I’ll drive you, lights and sirens. We’ll get there much faster.” I stand, keeping her body cradled against me as he leads the way out. I don’t see anything except the officer’s back as I follow him. At the car, he tries to take Hope from me, and I snap at him. “I’ve got her.” Getting us both in the backseat isn’t easy, but I tuck her up against me. Brushing her hair off her cheek, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Baby, please wake up. You’re scaring the shit out of me.” “Sir, is she breathing?” “Yes. But it’s shallow. Her pulse is weak.” I hold her, speaking nonsense to her the whole way, dangerously close to losing my shit by the time we pull up to the emergency room doors. “Stay here, sir. I’ll get them to bring out a gurney.” It takes way too fucking long for the medical team to rush out. Hope’s taken from my arms. When the staff sees the blood on me, they start barking questions. Somewhere in the middle of answering their endless interrogation, I’m aware of the officer handing me Hope’s purse and a nurse pushing me inside while she drums more information out of me. I stumble and lean against the admissions desk. The little pit bull of a nurse is right in my face. “Is she pregnant?” “What? No. I don’t know. I don’t think so.” “Are you her husband?” “Boyfriend.” Fuck, I hate that useless word. “Is she on birth control?” “I think so.” Her lip curls with disdain, and I’m swamped with regret. I’m always in such a hurry to stick my damn dick in her. I never asked her what the— “Sir, does she have any family we can call?” I’m her fucking family. “Uh, her mother,” I answer stupidly. She ushers me into a private waiting room. I don’t know what the fuck to do. I want to throw shit and rip the fucking place apart.

Instead, I sit my ass in a flimsy plastic chair and tap out a message to Z. At Empire Med with Hope. Bad My phone pings back almost immediately. Be there in 20. Z and Wrath are there in fifteen. “Brother, what the fuck?” Z asks when he sees me. “I don’t know. They haven’t fucking told me anything yet.” Wrath sits next to me and puts his hand on my back. “What happened?” I tell him about meeting up with her, how sick she looked, and her fainting. “Uh, we thought she like got shot or something,” Z points out. I turn my hands over, seeing the blood. “No.” “Aw fuck, man,” Z says. There’s a sink in the corner of the room, and I stumble over to clean my hands the best I can. “Mr. North?” I whip around. “Is she okay?” Not liking the grave expression on her face, I storm over. “Is she okay?” I ask a lot louder this time. She glances at Wrath and Z, then pulls me into the corner. “We think it’s an ectopic pregnancy. She’s bleeding heavily, indicating her tube has ruptured. We’re prepping her for emergency surgery now.” My throat constricts. “She’s pregnant?” I manage to choke out. She puts a hand on my shoulder and gives me a sad look. “I’m sorry. A tubal ectopic pregnancy like this never survives.” “Emergency surgery? Is she…?” I can’t even say it. “It’s a life-saving operation. I’ll come back when I have more information for you.” I fall heavily into the chair next to Wrath. What the fuck did I do to her? I remember back to the morning in Sophie’s shower when Hope told me she had trouble taking the pill. Then the night of my birthday when she said we could skip the condoms. I never thought about it again. Selfish fucking asshole. A baby. She’s pregnant. Hope carrying my child. No, was pregnant. Was it…? I can’t. I can’t even think about it. I just need my girl to make it through this. Wrath puts his hand on my shoulder. “She’s a little spitfire. She’ll be back to busting your balls in no time, brother.” After that, my brothers are quiet, but they stay with me while I wait. Trinity comes in an hour later. After a quiet hug, she pushes a clean pair of jeans and a T-shirt into my hands. Shuffling into the bathroom, I change quick, stuffing my stained clothes in the garbage. I hurry out, but no one has come to give me an update. I should call her mother. Digging out her cell phone, I scroll through her contacts until I find one labeled Mother. The phone rings twice before someone

picks up. “Um, Mrs.—” Fuck, I don’t know what her mother’s married name is. “This is Rochlan. I’m a friend of your daughter’s, Mrs. Kendall.” “Knight,” she corrects. What-the-fuck-ever. “Listen, Hope’s in the hospital. She’s having emergency surgery.” I give her the scant details I know and feel like an absolute fucking asshole the entire time. When I tell her we’re at Empire Med, she makes a clucking sound. “Okay. Well, call me back tomorrow and let me know how she’s doing.” “Ma’am? You’re not going to come down and see her?” “What for? You said she’s in surgery. It’s an hour drive.” I swallow down my rage and hang up. Looking at my brothers, I shake my head. I can’t speak. I’m dangerously close to tears. What kind of mother doesn’t care if her daughter is in the hospital and might die? I know how shitty I am with words. Did I not explain it right? The nurse returns, and I jump up. “Is she okay?” “There were some complications. Sir, do you know if she has a health care proxy?” “What?” She explains what that is, and my entire body numbs. “She’s a lawyer, so probably. I don’t know,” I manage to mumble. “See if you can find out. I’ll be back in a bit.” Swiping at my damp cheeks, I realize I’m fucking crying. Scrolling through her phone again, I find Sophie’s number. “What’s up, buttercup?” she answers. “Sophie, it’s Rock.” “Oh. Hi. What’s wrong? Is Hope okay?” “No. She’s in the hospital. They’re asking me if she has a health care proxy, Sophie. I don’t know. I thought you might.” She lets out a string of curses. “Yes. We all did them after law school. I have no idea if she updated it after Clay died. I was the second person, though. Fuck. I’m down in fucking Delaware, Rock. It’s going to take me a little while to get there. Call Adam. He might know. I’m going to check out of my hotel and drive straight there. I’m leaving right now.” We say our good-byes. No matter my irritation with Sophie, I’m so grateful Hope has at least one other person who cares about her. I manage to get ahold of Adam, but he’s not much help. He’s got no idea about the health care proxy but says he’ll be at the hospital right after court. While I’m holding Hope’s phone, her text chain to Sophie pops on the screen. Remembering the awful fight we had about me messing with her phone, I hesitate. But I can’t stop scrolling through their messages because they’re full of Hope’s snarky wit that I love so fucking much. Under the circumstances, I think Hope will

forgive the intrusion. Right now, I need to feel close to my girl in some small way. Looks as if they go back and forth all day. Sophie’s lewd as a devil. Hope’s comments are more reserved, but she definitely pays me a few compliments here and there that make me smile. Please let my girl be okay One text catches my attention. From yesterday morning. I fucked up so bad, Sophie. ??? I said something horrible to R I didn’t mean. A good fuck fixes everything I snort at that, not surprised that’s Sophie’s solution to everything. Not this time. They must have talked right after, because there’s only one more message. It’s from Sophie this morning. Good luck. Give that committee a kick in the balls from me. Wrath props up his cast and sprawls out as much as his big body and the tiny hospital waiting room chairs allow. An hour later, Lilly shows up. Z snaps to attention when he sees her, but she doesn’t notice him at first. She places one hand on my shoulder. “Any news?” “No, she’s still in surgery.” She nods and sits to wait with us. Trinity brings me coffee. She and Lilly talk softly to each other. Z watches both of them like a hawk. I’d laugh my ass off if I wasn’t so torn up. I can’t wait to tell Hope about this little soap opera. Please let me be able to tell her this. A couple hours later, Sophie rushes into the room. She glances at the guys and approaches me slowly. Her touch is light on my shoulder as she gives me a gentle squeeze. “Any news?” “Not in a while.” Wrath’s busy glaring at her so hard I don’t bother introducing them. Never should have confided in him about Sophie’s drunken attempt to get me in the sack. After I fill her in, she wanders over to talk to Lilly and Trinity. “Mr. North?” It’s a doctor this time, and I steel myself before getting up.

“She’s doing well,” he says right away. All the air I’d been holding in comes rushing out of my lungs. Sophie joins me, explaining to the doctor that she’s Hope’s health care proxy. He nods. “She came through surgery okay. We had to—” He looks around the room and lowers his voice. “Her fallopian tube ruptured. We had to remove part of it along with the pregnancy.” Next to me, Sophie gasps. “It was done laparoscopically so her recovery time won’t be as long.” “Thank you,” I manage. “Did she complain of any pain, or did you notice anything unusual?” the doctor asks. I shake my head. I don’t want to discuss the fight we had in front of Sophie. The doctor shrugs. “She would have been feeling bad for a couple days. Probably in a lot of pain today,” he explains, making me feel a thousand times worse. Thinking my girl was suffering while I was off taking a joyride and whining like a little bitch because she insulted my club? That shit is hard to handle. The doctor’s gaze darts between Sophie and me, finally landing on me. “Will you be helping her once she’s released?” I don’t even have to think about that. “Yes, she’ll come home with me. I’ll take care of her.” He nods. “We’ll discuss care instructions when she’s awake. She’s still out now, but one of you can go in and see her if you want.” “You go,” Sophie urges. I follow him to her room and want to cry when I see her. Rushing to her side, I’m shocked at how small and fragile she looks surrounded by all the medical stuff. “Baby doll,” I choke out. I glance up at the doctor. “Can I hold her hand?” I’m so afraid I’ll do something else to hurt her. His mouth turns up slightly. “Yes.” I barely notice the door snick shut. Taking her hand between mine, I bring it to my lips. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. So fucking sorry for storming out the other night and not calling you. I’m so sorry this happened, because I know it’s my fault. Please be okay, Baby Doll. I haven’t had nearly enough time to love you yet.” A nurse comes in, watching me for a minute. “Sir, she’s going to be out for a few more hours. You can go home and get some rest.” Nailing him with the hardest biker stare I can muster, I inform him in no uncertain terms, “No. I need to be here when she wakes up.”

Pain shakes me from sleep. The mother of all cramps is raising hell in my uterus. My head throbs. The overpowering scent of antiseptic makes my nose twitch. What the hell? Snapping my eyes open, I find Rock sprawled out in a chair next to me, his hand wrapped tight around mine even in sleep. It takes me a minute to remember what happened. How long have I been out? Uncomfortable, I shift, startling Rock awake. The elation on his face is clear. Whatever happened was bad. “What happened?” “Baby—” The door swishes open, and a nurse charges through. “Hey, chickie. Good to see you awake.” She’s friendly and checks me over with respectful efficiency. “Let me grab the doctor.” My throat tightens and suddenly I’m flooded with tears. Rocks stands and awkwardly pulls me to his chest. “It’s okay, baby.” The doctor explains about the pregnancy and the rupture. My mind is spinning. How did this happen? “Can I still have children—after something like this?” He’s the kind of doctor who’s chosen efficiency over a coddling bedside manner, so he doesn’t sugarcoat a thing. “There’s a good chance you may not be able to get pregnant again, and even if you do, your chances of this happening again are higher.” Rock is stoic as he holds my hand and rubs my back the entire time. Then the doctor mentions I shouldn’t try to conceive again for at least three or four months. “Wait a second. Doctor, I wasn’t trying to get pregnant. I’m on the shot.” The doctor falters. “How long ago?” I glance at Rock and heat stings my cheeks. “Maybe eight weeks? They told me it was good for twelve.” “Well, that changes things a little. Statistically…” He trails off. “Well, it’s very unusual. Get some rest. We’ll probably discharge you in the morning.” As soon as he leaves, I burst into tears again. Rock’s right there soothing me. “Hush, baby, it’s going to be fine.” “I may not be able to have children, Rock. I mean, I don’t even know if I want them, but having the option yanked away?”

“Hope, just worry about getting better. I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t been such a selfish fuck, this wouldn’t have happened.” With his head bowed and lips pressed against the back of my hand, he looks so sorrowful. I burst into tears again. “You don’t have to stay.” The stern expression on his face quiets me. “I’m not going anywhere.” The chipper nurse is back. “Honey, you’ve got a waiting room full of people out there. You feel like some visitors?” My gaze bounces to Rock, and he squeezes my hand. “Sure.” Wrath swings in on his crutches first, bumping Rock out of the way to drop a kiss on my forehead, then throws himself down in the chair next to my bed. “Sugar, you gave us all some scare,” he grumbles at me. I’m so touched I start weeping again. Rock glares at Wrath. Z comes in with a scowl in place. “What the hell did you say to her, jerk?” he barks at Wrath. The distressed look on Wrath’s face makes me cry even harder. Darting his gaze between Rock and Z, he spreads his hands out palm up. “It’s not you.” I sniffle. Sophie pokes her head in and rushes to my side. “You scared the fuck out of me, buttercup!” “What are you doing here?” She shoots a glance at Rock. “Honey, I drove up from Delaware the second he called me.” “Thanks, Sophie.” “Lilly was here too, but she had to run. She wanted you to have this, though.” Sophie sets a petite vase of tulips on the table next to me. “I’m gonna let you get some rest, sweetie.” She turns to Rock. “Call me if you need something?” He nods, and she takes off. “Thanks for staying with Rock, you guys,” I choke out. Wrath and Z share a look. “Trin will be back a little later,” Rock says. On the verge of tears again, I gulp in big lungfuls of air. “Breathe, Baby Doll,” Rock reminds me. He glares down at Wrath, who’s made himself comfortable in the stiff hospital recliner and shows no sign of moving. “What?” “Asshole,” Rock grumbles. Wrath’s impish grin when Rock storms to the other side of the room to pull over a chair makes me laugh. Then he winks, and I really lose it. “Prez, you need me to do anything?” Z asks from his corner. “No—aw, fuck. Her car and my bike are probably still downtown.” Z seems relieved to have something to do. “I’ll take care of it. Keys?”

After he leaves, the three of us fall silent. Well, Wrath starts snoring. Rock shakes his head. “Has he been here all night?” I whisper. Rock nods. “Yeah.” “Why?” “You’re family now, babe,” Wrath mumbles without opening his eyes.

Trinity finally returns with pizza for everyone, which the nurse promises to ignore. Teller, Murphy, and Heidi join us. Still nauseous from the pain meds, my girl is only able to nibble on some crackers. After we eat, Hope gets a round of kisses, and everyone takes off. Trinity even manages to get Wrath to leave Hope’s side and go home with her. Hope is still pale, and I’m relieved when she finally drops off to sleep. Early the next morning, the doctor comes in to check on her. After he’s finished, she falls back into sleep, and he pulls me into the hallway. “We’re going to keep her one more day.” A crack of fear splinters through me. “Why? Is something wrong?” “She’s doing well. But she lost a lot of blood, and I’m not comfortable releasing her so soon.” I blow out a breath, relieved they’re not just gonna toss her out. Honestly, I haven’t a clue if she even has health insurance. The rough way I handled my girl the other night has been banging around in my skull. I can’t stop thinking somehow I did something to cause this. “Doc…” Shit, I have no idea how to frame what I want to say without sounding like an abusive dickwad. “We… I didn’t know she was pregnant. Could, ah, could I have somehow caused what happened?” He cocks his head at me, clearly not getting my meaning. Jesus fuck, I’m gonna have to spell it out for him. Even as I’m running my hands through my hair, I don’t break eye contact with the man. “A couple nights ago, we had sex. Pretty intense —” He stops me with a hand on my arm. “No, Mr. North. In a normal pregnancy, the fertilized egg would have moved into her uterus. With this, the egg stayed in the fallopian tube, so no, vigorous sex wouldn’t cause this. Did she complain of any pain?” I mentally run over that night, trying to remember anything I missed. “No.”

He nods once. “You didn’t cause it, so put it out of your head. Ectopic pregnancies only happen maybe one in every fifty pregnancies, but the fact that she was on a reliable method of birth control is concerning. I’ve conferred with her gynecologist.” I don’t really care about that end of things. All I’m thinking of is taking care of my girl. Getting her back to the clubhouse and smothering the fuck out of her. “You should really go home and get some rest.” He doesn’t say it with much authority. Probably because the look on my face makes it clear I’m not going anywhere. “I can’t leave her.” He nods once before leaving. “I’ll be back to check on her later.” After he leaves, I lean against the wall, tipping my head back and closing my eyes. The doc was telling me the odds of this happening are apparently zilch. It hits me that a lot of bad shit has happened to my girl since I came into her life. I’ve done so many awful things in my thirty-eight years on this planet; I figure my karmic debt is huge. But Hope? I can’t imagine she’s ever willingly hurt another living creature. She’s such a loving, caring soul. It seems awfully unfair for karma to fuck with her for the shit I’ve done.

Rock’s grave expression when he enters the room tightens the knot in my chest. Even rumpled from sleeping in the chair, he’s so handsome. Somehow we made a baby. I had his child inside me. This perfect man who loves me and would protect me with his life. And I lost it. I didn’t even know, but the loss echoes through me. Is this my fault? I’ve been so indecisive about having children. I probably don’t deserve to be a mother. The thought that I could lose Rock because I’m defective in some way terrifies me. He’s the picture of male virility. A hard man in his prime. Men like him want to reproduce, don’t they? It’s a miracle he doesn’t already have a bunch of kids running around by now. The way he protects everyone he loves, I know he’d be an amazing father. I can’t stop thinking I failed him somehow, and I hate it.

The next morning I find myself in the hallway with the doctor again. “She’s going to be sore for the next two to three days, so she needs as much rest as possible.” “Okay.” The doc eyes me skeptically. I gotta say I’m happy we’re leaving. The suspicious looks I get every time he pays Hope a visit are getting old. The fact that he’s answered all my questions and seems to be taking good care of my girl are the only things keeping all his teeth intact. “In about two to three weeks, she should be fully recovered. At least physically,” he clarifies. “She’s been crying at everything, doc. That normal?” “Yes. Her body is going to be flooded with hormones. She may cry in spurts for up to six weeks. Keep an eye on her. If it seems worse, take her to her regular doctor. Does she have any history of depression?” Although I suspect she does, I don’t have anything concrete. “She lost her husband a while ago, and from what her friends described, she had a rough time.” For the first time since I’ve been dealing with this guy, his professional doctor mask slips. “Well, keep an eye on her. It will be normal for her to be sad and fatigued, but if it goes on for too long, she needs to talk to someone.” “Okay.” He sighs. “I’d limit her interactions with people for at least a few days. Let her grieve and process. Don’t let her get overwhelmed. Her friends might mean well, but unless she asks, I’d screen her calls and visits.” Shit. That’s a tough one. I’d been planning to care for her up at the clubhouse, but there’s not a lot of privacy there. “I can do that,” I assure him. He nods and pushes his way inside. Hope’s awake but clearly still out of it. “Okay, Ms. Kendall. We’re going to discharge you today. It will take a little while to get the paperwork done. The nurse will bring you your written instructions and the prescriptions.” I listen to every word because I’m going to make damn sure I take the best care of my girl. The doctor stops and levels a stern look at me. “No sexual intercourse for at least two weeks.” We’re back to this. Next to me, I feel Hope twitch, and I imagine she’s red with embarrassment, but

I don’t turn away from the doctor. He seems to be challenging me. I’m not a fucking animal. “Since the shot failed, you must use a barrier method for at least the next three to four months.” He raises an eyebrow at me. As if I don’t feel shitty enough. “You said you weren’t trying to get pregnant, so you should discuss what other options are available with your regular OB/GYN when you’re ready. They’ll probably suggest some sort of oral contraceptive in addition to a barrier method.” Hope sort of wrinkles her nose, which makes me want to laugh. Instead, I rub my hand over her back. He rattles off more instructions, some of which frankly are more than I ever needed to know. I pray like fuck someone is going to hand us this shit in writing. After the doctor leaves, Hope seems to be a little more with it. She gets up and sorts through the clothes Trinity brought her last night. Holding up a pair of jeans, she winces. “No fucking way,” she says, pointing to her belly. Lifting up her hospital gown, she angles and turns in front of the bathroom mirror. “God, I look disgusting.” “Don’t talk about my girl that way.” I get a small smirk out of her. After a lot of indecision, she finally settles on a loose pair of sweatpants that I help her into. She still yelps when the material touches her tummy. “Sorry, baby,” I mutter. “Hey,” she says, placing a hand on my arm. “Thank you so much.” Entwining my fingers with hers, I bring her hand up and run my lips over her knuckles. “What are you thanking me for?” “For staying with me.” I have to take a deep breath. Here she is thanking me when it’s my fucking fault this happened in the first place. “Baby doll, you don’t ever have to thank me for that. I love you.” She presses a soft kiss against my lips, then turns to finish getting ready. The nurse stops in and confidentially informs me to pick up some Gas-X on the way home. Jesus Christ. Z meets us at the curb with my SUV. The orderly helps me get Hope out of her wheelchair. Once she’s up, I swing her into my arms and settle in the backseat with her. Z reaches back and gives her hand a squeeze. “Let’s get you outta here, girl.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“Z , drop us off at my place,” Rock directs.

“No problem.” I’m excited to be out of the hospital, but I’m also exhausted. It’s possible I doze for the few minutes it takes to get to Rock’s house. Rock wants to carry me inside, but I brush off his hands. “The doctor said I needed to walk a little,” I remind him. I’m embarrassed to be hobbling around like an arthritic bird in front of Z, but he doesn’t say anything. “You hungry, doll?” Rock asks as soon as we’re inside. I think about it for a second. All I am is tired. “No.” I don’t get to protest this time as Rock gently lifts me into his arms. “Wait here,” he tells Z. He carries me upstairs and settles me in the bedroom. “I’ll ask Z to run out for some things. Anything you feel like having?” “Toast and butter?” “That’s it?” My stomach rolls at the thought of eating anything else. “Yeah.” Rock brushes my hair off my face. “Rest. You need anything, call me,” he says, setting my phone on the nightstand. “You’re going out?” “No. Hell no. I’ll be downstairs working on some stuff. I just don’t want you havin’ to yell or risk not hearing you.” “Okay.” I can’t keep my eyes open another minute. As I drift off, I’m vaguely aware of Rock moving around the room. It’s almost dark when I wake up. I don’t feel rested, but I get up and run to the bathroom. The house is quiet. A quick glance out the window shows me nothing. Crawling back under the covers, I contemplate calling Rock. I don’t need anything so I hate to bug him. This is stupid. Snatching up the phone, I send him a quick text. I’m awake Rock’s filling the doorway not three minutes later. “What do you need, Baby Doll?” “Nothing. I’m sorry. Were you busy?” He walks into the room, and I get a better

look at him. Grease-stained jeans and hands. “Were you working on something?” “Yeah. Give me a second to clean up.” “Okay.” He strips off his T-shirt as he strides into the bathroom. “You can do that out here,” I call after him. He pokes his head out. “What?” “You can get undressed out here, where I can watch,” I say with a small smile. He flashes a grin at me and ducks back into the bathroom. “I wasn’t joking,” I grumble. “What?” he calls out over the sound of the shower starting up. “Nothing!” I shout back. He emerges damp and sexy, towel wrapped around his lean hips. And gets dressed. “Okay. All yours.” Feeling uncertain, I just stare at him until he comes closer. Then I throw back the covers and pat the bed. The corners of his mouth lift as he slides in next to me and gathers me in his arms. A breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding rushes out of me. Rock’s big hand strokes over my head and down my back. “Got your meds downstairs. Ready to eat something so you can take ‘em?” My arm wraps around his middle and I cling to him for a while. Enjoying the thump of his heart under my ear. He runs one hand over my back and one up and down the arm I have wrapped around him. “You wanna talk, Baby Doll?” he asks after a few minutes. I do. But I don’t know what to say. Overwhelming grief and guilt consume me, but I don’t know how to express it to him. There’s also a part of me that’s afraid of what he’ll say. “Hope?” he prompts. The lump in my throat makes it impossible to force out any words. Finally, I manage to whisper, “I’m sorry.” “‘Bout what?” I don’t know how to phrase what I want to say. “You remember… I’m not… I wasn’t sure I ever wanted children.” Now that I got part of it out, I’m determined to push out the rest. “But your… our baby. Even though I didn’t know, it still hurts. I would have wanted—” His arms pull me against him, his touch easing the ache in my chest. “Hope, honey, stop please. You’re the only woman I’ve ever thought about having kids with. But you know, when you were in surgery, they explained to me the way it happened. The baby couldn’t survive. I was so fuckin’ scared I was gonna lose you.” I’m not sure what he means. Does he think I’m making too big a deal out of this loss? “If… if it hadn’t. If…” Oh my God, I know what I want to ask, but I just can’t form the question. “Would you have been happy? If things had been different? Would you have wanted—”

“Jesus Christ, Hope. Of course I would have been happy.” The sound of his voice breaking destroys me. “I would have wanted our baby, Hope. Don’t ever doubt that.”

I’m not sure what the right words are to tell Hope how much I love her and none of this is her fault. A part of me is crushed she doesn’t realize how much she means to me. I don’t want to make what she’s feeling seem insignificant. In a way, I’ve had longer to process the loss. When they told me in the hospital the baby couldn’t have ever survived, I put it out of my head and focused all my energy on my girl surviving. Now her questions bring me right back to that place. Another person to be responsible for. To protect and take care of. Christ, could I handle a daughter who ended up being a smart mouth like her mom? I sort of half chuckle at the thought, and Hope peers up at me with wide, wet eyes. I press a kiss to her forehead. “I want you to rest and heal. When we’re ready, we’ll figure it out, Baby Doll.” “Thank you,” she whispers. “I’m here. Whatever you need.” I don’t think she hears me, though, as she seems to have drifted back to sleep. It’s a fight not to wake her up, because I’m worried she hasn’t eaten yet. But at least she doesn’t seem to be in any physical pain. Time passes, and I just listen to her breathe, thankful she’s in my arms. After a while, she shifts and whimpers. More movement and she drops out of my hold and rolls over on her side. Settling the covers over us, I carefully pull her against my chest and doze with her. “Rock,” she whispers, startling me out of sleep. “Yeah, baby,” I rasp out. “I hurt.” Instantly, I’m awake. “What’s wrong?” “I think I just need the pain meds. I feel shaky too.” Fuck, she hasn’t eaten all damn day. What the fuck was I thinkin’? “You gotta eat something, baby.” “Okay,” she answers softly. “I’ll be right back.” Fuckin’ pissed with myself, I struggle not to slam shit around in the kitchen. I don’t want her any more upset. Toast. That’s what she said she wanted before. I get

that and her pills together, then grab a yogurt from the fridge and a bottle of water. I don’t keep shit like trays in my house, so I stick the water in my pocket, grab a spoon out of one of the drawers, and head back upstairs. “Babe?” I call out when I step into the bedroom and find the bed empty. “In here.” The bathroom door opens, and I’m not liking how pale she looks at all. “Come on, back in bed,” I order as I set everything on the nightstand next to her. She sits back and quietly munches on her toast, then spoons down half her yogurt before swallowing down her medication. “Good girl,” I tell her as she hands the bottle of water back to me. I get a narrow-eyed expression in response that makes my heart jump because it means she’s feelin’ more like herself. “Better?” She places a hand on her belly, then winces. “Yeah, I guess. I need to take a shower, though. I feel disgusting.” “Later.” “Okay.” She closes her eyes and rests against the headboard. “You want to go back to sleep?” “No,” she answers without opening her eyes. But after a while, she drifts back to sleep. I try to settle her so she’s more comfortable, then run downstairs to check the instructions the hospital gave us, afraid I missed something. The slam of a car door outside pulls me out of my reading. A few seconds later, someone raps on the back door before opening. “Hey,” Z calls out. “Come on in. Just keep it down. She’s sleeping.” “Sure.” Wrath and Trinity follow in behind him. I raise an eyebrow at the trio. “What’s up?” “Nothing. Wanted to see if you needed anything,” Wrath answers. Trinity sets a couple bags on the table. “I brought some of her stuff that was in your room and a few books for her.” “Thanks, Trin. Appreciate it.” “You got enough food and stuff?” Z asks. The corner of my mouth turns up at his concern. “Yeah, we’re good. I need a few days. You guys can handle things?” “Of course,” Wrath answers. Z glances at Trinity. “We just gotta figure out that thing by the weekend.” Trinity gets all twitchy. “I can go wait—” Wrath puts his arm out to stop her. “It’s fine,” I tell her. Turning to Z, I address his concern. “I’ll be there for church. We’ll get it sorted out.”

Wrath snakes his arm around Trinity’s shoulders. “We’ll get going.” “Tell Hope to call me,” Trinity offers. “You know, if she wants to—” “I will, hon, thanks.” After they leave, I lock up and shut everything off, then head upstairs. Hope’s still sound asleep. When I slide into bed, she turns and curls herself against me. “I’m here, doll,” I whisper against the top of her head.

The next day I feel a little more normal. Around noon, I decide to venture downstairs. Rock’s been working out in the garage since early this morning, and since he’s been taking such good care of me, I want to return the favor. I jump at the thud of footsteps behind me. My back faces the doorway, but before I can turn to greet Rock, he places both hands on the counter next to me, locking me in place. His head lowers so our cheeks are touching, and my eyes close. Carefully, he eases the knife out of my hand, setting it down. “You’re supposed to be resting.” His voice is low, vibrating against my ear, stealing my voice. I can’t respond because he pushes my hair aside, exposing my neck, and nuzzles my ear, placing soft kisses below it all the way to my shoulder. “How’s my girl?” His warm lips meet my thundering pulse, so all I’m able to say is a breathless, “Okay.” My head drops back against his chest as I continue to breathe him in. “I wanted to make you lunch.” He doesn’t answer because he’s still busy assaulting my neck, sending warm tingles scattering over my skin. Arousal tugs at me, so I squirm until I’m facing him, throwing my arms around his neck and holding him close. His warm mouth covers mine. Big hands come up to angle and cup my face. He presses one more kiss to my lips and steps back. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten—” I try to pull him back, but it’s not easy to move Rock if he doesn’t want to be moved. “I’m fine.” I’m not fine, though. I’m desperate to know he still wants me. His big hands circle my arms, pulling them off his shoulders until we’re holding hands. “What are you making?” “Nothing fancy. Sandwiches? I think you’re out of mayo, though.” He gives my hands a quick squeeze and releases them. “I’ll run down to the

store. You need anything else?” I need a lot of things. None of them will be found in the grocery store. “Seltzer? Limes?” He grins. “If you think of anything else, text me.” “Okay.” I watch him walk out. Something inside me wants to call him back. I should have offered to go with him or something. Except I’m still in my pajamas. Rock hasn’t been gone very long when someone pulls into the driveway. A skittering of fear runs through me. But one look out the window, and I break into a smile. Hurrying out to the mudroom, I throw on one of Rock’s sweatshirts and open the back door. “Hey, Bricks!” He strolls up the driveway with a smile on his face. I wrap my arms around him for a quick hug and invite him inside. “Prez here? He said he needed some help today,” he says while jerking his thumb at the garage. “He ran out to get a few things but should be back soon.” He seems uneasy but follows me inside. “Do you want something to drink?” “Sure, water’s fine. How are you feeling? We were all so worried about you.” My cheeks heat up. For some reason, I’m sort of embarrassed that every one of Rock’s brothers knows what happened. “Better.” I set his water on the counter as he settles himself on one of the stools. “Winter and I stopped in to see you, but you were out cold.” “Oh, geez. I’m sorry.” He cocks his head at me but doesn’t say anything at first. “You doin’ okay?” he finally asks. “Tired, but yeah, I’m okay.” We’re interrupted by Rock returning. His hands are loaded down with bags, and Bricks rushes over to help him, setting everything on the counter. They go over some stuff, and Rock leads him out to the garage while I work on emptying the bags. The sweet scent of roses hits my nose, and I turn. “Rock! What—” He’s standing there with a big plastic-wrapped bouquet of red roses. An uncertain smile plays over his mouth. “I should have brought you some before this.” He glances down. “They’re just grocery store—” Plucking the flowers out of his hand, I stick my nose in them and inhale. “They’re lovely,” I murmur. Rock’s gaze darts around the room. “Shit, you know, I didn’t think about it. I don’t even have a vase.” He turns and takes out a pair of heavy beer mugs. “I don’t want to ruin your—”

“Hope, it’s fine.” Leaning over, he presses a kiss to my forehead. “I gotta go get Bricks set up. You okay?” “Yup. I’ll bring lunch out in a few minutes.” “Just call me. I’ll come in and take care of it.” “Okay.” I set about putting the roses in water, smiling and sniffing them the whole time. Then I finish putting lunch together. But as I step outside with a plate in each hand, white-hot, searing pain slashes through my side, and the plates crash to the pavement. Rock tears out of the garage. “Hope, what’s wrong?” “Cramp.” Tears sting my eyes. Besides the pain, I’m so damn embarrassed to be so weak in front of him. “I’m sorry.” He growls and lifts me up. “Told you to rest, Baby Doll. Should we go back to the hospital?” “No. I’ll lie down, take the pain meds, and if I still feel bad, you can take me.” He stares at my face but nods. Once I’m settled upstairs, Rock stays with me while I fall asleep. After that scare, I spend the rest of the day napping. Rock checks in on me frequently. “Taking some vacation time,” he tells me when I question how he can be away from the club for so long. “Do bikers get vacation?” I tease. “This one does,” he answers with a smirk. His thumb caresses my chin. “I do need to be up there this weekend. Think you’ll be ready for a drive Friday?” “Sure. We can go whenever you want. I’m getting a little claustrophobic.” He chuckles and shakes his head at me. The next morning is incident free. I wake up with my roses in my line of vision. Rock’s pressed tight against my back. “How do you feel?” “Better. Thanks for bringing those upstairs,” I say, gesturing to the flowers. “You’re welcome, baby.” After a quick run to the bathroom, I’m ready to crawl back into bed with my man, but he’s up and getting dressed. “What are you doing?” I ask, trying to keep the pout out of my voice. “Taking you to the doc.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. “Glare all you want, Baby Doll. You scared the shit out of me yesterday. I called and they said they’d see you at ten.” “I feel fine today.” “Good, then you won’t mind getting your hot little ass dressed and in the car.” Now what am I supposed to say to that? “Fine,” I grumble. “This is a waste of time,” I mutter as Rock holds the hospital door open for me.

“I know. Humor me.” We wind our way through the massive medical complex until we find my surgeon’s office. The nurse rushes me into an exam room right away. An overwhelming vulnerability steals my breath. After closing my eyes for a second, I stare up at the nurse. “Can you please bring my boyfriend back?” “Sure, hon.” Poor Rock is clearly uncomfortable in the tiny exam room, but he squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring smile when he enters.

If looks could kill, I’d definitely be nursing a gut punch right about now. Hope’s giving me every pissed-off face she can come up with. Unfortunately for her, I’m not intimidated one bit. They’re cute as fuck. I’m also trying to ignore the highly personal questions the nurse keeps asking. Hope’s red in the face and squirming as she answers. “Not much heavier than a regular period. But bad cramping yesterday, even with the painkillers.” “What about today?” “No cramps.” “Bleeding?” the nurse prompts. “Yes,” Hope grinds out, and if it wasn’t so serious, I’d laugh at how pissed-off embarrassed she is. “We’ll do a quick test, but I think it’s a good sign that your hCG levels are dropping rapidly.” “Is the doctor going to see her?” I ask. Now it’s the nurse’s turn to give me a dirty look. “Yes, he’ll be in after we run the test.” “This is mortifying,” Hope grumbles after she returns from the bathroom and hands the nurse a sample cup. My teeth sink into my tongue so I don’t say anything to make it worse for her. The doctor is a different one than the one who treated Hope. But he’s aware of her case and seems to be thorough. “You’re doing fine, Ms. Kendall. Incisions look good. HCG is falling. How are you feeling otherwise?” “Still tired.” “That’s to be expected.” Hope flicks her gaze at me. “Still weepy.” “Also understandable. Anything gets worse or the bleeding persists past, say,

another five days, come back in.” “Okay.” The doctor shakes my hand on his way out, and I help Hope get dressed. “Happy now?” she asks. “Yes, actually. I’m relieved. Aren’t you?” Oh, I can tell it’s killing her to agree with me, but I try to keep my gloating to a minimum. “Yes,” she answers. On the way home, she asks if we can stop for ice cream. As if I can say no to her.

CHAPTER FIVE

C oming to the clubhouse was almost worse than staying at Rock’s house. After a

few days, I’m dangerously close to strangling someone. After my forced trip to the doctor, we packed up and arrived in the afternoon. Worn out and still in pain, I slept a good portion of the first twenty-four hours away. But I’ve been lucid since. Rock is driving me nuts. You’d think the doctor telling us I’m healing and things are fine would alleviate Rock’s concern, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. His constant hovering stopped being sweet yesterday. If I want to go downstairs, he insists on carrying me. If I need something, he jumps up to get it. I had to draw the line at him following me into the bathroom. Trinity giggles at my frustration. She’s never seen Rock act this way and finds it adorable. Okay, I kind of do, too. I still want to throttle him. Just a teeny-tiny bit. At least with him constantly buzzing around me, I don’t have time to dwell on all the dark thoughts that followed me home from the hospital. So when he returns to our room after a club meeting, looking uncertain, raking his fingers through his hair, Trinity escapes with a brief wave. Whether her hasty departure is from Rock’s serious expression or because she knows Wrath is free and waiting for her downstairs, I don’t know. “How do you feel, Baby Doll?” I grit my teeth. He asks me this about five hundred times a day. “Fine,” I answer because I know he’s just worried about me. He leans over to kiss my forehead, and I inhale his wonderful scent. Leather, musk, man. My tummy flips. I tip my head up for a real kiss but only get a peck. Sitting next to me on the bed, he takes my hand. “Baby doll, I have to go on a run. You know I would never leave you after… if it wasn’t important. It’s been scheduled for a bit now. Wrath was supposed to do it, but he can’t. Murph and Z will be going with me.” Yippie! Oh, I mean, “Okay. Where?”

“You’re not upset? After everything that happened, I should really be here with you. I feel like shit for taking off already.” I wipe the eager look off my face and smooth on something a little more concerned. “Of course I’m not happy about it. But I understand. Club business?” “Yeah.” “How long?” “Should take a week.” Okay, that’s a little long. Since I can already sense how torn he is, I don’t want to make things harder on him. “I know you wouldn’t go if you didn’t have to. You’ve taken such good care of me, Rock. I’ll be fine.” “You’ll stay up here while I’m gone?” Although he phrases it as a question, I don’t think it’s up for debate. “Of course.” He nods once. “Good. Wrath and Trinity will be here to look after you if you need anything.” I quirk an eyebrow at that, and he smirks in return. With the backs of his fingers, he sweeps aside my bangs. Running his hand down the side of my face, he cups my cheek. “You’re so beautiful.” My cheeks heat up under his intensity. I point to my belly, which has yet to fully deflate from the surgery. “Hopefully this will be gone when you get back.” One corner of his mouth kicks up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Yeah, right. I sit up on my knees and steady myself on his shoulders. Leaning against him, I whisper in his ear. “I’ll be ready for you when you get back.” This pained look stretches across his face, and the urge to throttle him returns. Even though physically I’m still dealing with some gross side effects, mentally I’m ready to jump his bones. I miss the physical closeness. We spent days at his house, talking and just being with each other. But since we’ve come back up to the clubhouse—even though we’ve slept side by side every night—there’s a strange emotional wall between us, and I can’t figure out how to scale it. I rake my nails through his hair, which I know he loves, and he closes his eyes. “Maybe a long ride will help you clear your head?” “Hope—” “Shhh.” He’s silent, but after a while, I have to ruin the moment. “Rochlan?” “Yes, Baby Doll,” he answers in a dreamy tone since I’m still running my nails over his scalp. “You’re not mad at me about the fight we had. You know, before?” His eyes snap open, flashing with fire. “Fuck no. If you have to ask, then I’m doing something wrong, baby.” “I don’t know why I overreacted like that when I’m not even sure I still want to even be a lawyer anymore.” “Baby, you worked hard to get where you are. No one likes being accused of

doing something they didn’t do.” “I just… I know this sounds like an excuse, but I think… my temper… I got so upset, I think, because—” “Stop. Please, Hope. I almost lost you. Some little fight isn’t even on my give-afuck radar after that. We were good before. I got your sweet little text and was about to send you the same thing. We’re solid.” “Okay,” I answer, even though I’m still uncertain.

Hope’s still asleep when I slide out of bed the next morning. Part of me wants to stay right where I am so I can watch her wake up, but I’ve got some things to do before I can leave. Wandering downstairs, I find Wrath in the dining room, sipping coffee by himself. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” With his good leg, he kicks a chair at me in response. “You all right?” He grunts back. “I’m just pissed I can’t go on the run. You shouldn’t have to do it. Shouldn’t be leavin’ your girl after everything you two just went through.” My lip twitches as I try not to smile. “Something tells me she’d like some space.” He stares at me, then nods. “Yeah, you’ve been overdoing it a little, playin’ nurse.” “Listen, this is stupid, but if anything happens—” “No way. Shut that shit down right now, prez.” “Wyatt, I’m serious. Come on. You never know. She fell apart after her husband died. You gotta promise me if something happens—on the run, next year, ten years from now—promise me you’ll take care of her.” “Fuck, why you gotta do this to me? Of course I’ll take care of her. The club will take care of her. Now, knock it the fuck off. You’re drawing bad mojo your way.” I snort because hearing the word mojo come out of Wrath’s mouth is pretty damn funny. I’ve been debating all morning whether I should mention this to him or not. “One last thing—and I swear to fuck if you make a joke about this, I’m going to break your other leg.” Wrath snorts. “This should be good.” Christ. “She’s still hormonal and stuff, so could you please try not to give her

shit. She’s liable to either rip your head off or cry. And if you make her cry, I’m going to kick your fuckin’ ass.” For once, he loses his silly smirk. “I’m not completely stupid. Poor girl almost died. I’ll behave myself.” “Do your best.” He opens his mouth to say something but pauses as he looks over my shoulder. “Fuck you,” he says, pasting his silly smirk back in place. Soft arms snake over my shoulders, and Hope’s scent wraps around me. She plants a kiss on my neck that makes my dick want to punch through my fucking jeans. Maybe this run will be good for me after all. “Morning, baby,” she says all soft and husky. Wrath clears his throat. “You sure you want to get him all horned up, then send him on his way, Hope?” The gentle pressure of her lips against my neck disappears. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she snaps. Encircling one of her arms with my hand, I pull her around and into my lap. “Ignore him, Baby Doll.” She touches her forehead to mine and rubs my nose with hers. “I’m going to miss you.” Running my hands through her hair, I tug on the ends a little. “Me too.” “Let’s get on the roaaad!” Z shouts from somewhere behind me. Sighing, I pull back from Hope. She places a hand over my heart. “I’ll go grab you something to eat and coffee.” Z straddles the chair next to me. “Will you feed me too, Hope?” I growl out, “No,” as Hope slides off my lap. She pats Wrath’s shoulder as she passes him. Dammit. Even in the loose pajama pants she’s been wearing, the sway of her hips is noticeable enough that I want to follow her into the kitchen and bend her over the counter— “Prez, you okay?” Z snaps his fingers in front of my face. Slapping his hand away, I grunt at him. Wrath leans forward. “Prez is so backed up, cum’s gonna shoot out his ears if he doesn’t get some pussy soon.” My fist slams into his shoulder. “Ow! What the fuck you do that for?” I level an are-you-kidding-me stare at him. “Stop being a disgusting asshole.” “You’re just pissed ‘cause it’s true.” Z leans in. “Plenty of pussy where we’re—” “I will motherfucking gut you if you finish that sentence,” I growl at him. Fuck me. I don’t know why Hope’s so worried about having kids. I already have two delinquents right here. “Where’s Trinny?” Z asks instead. Wise choice, fucker. “Sleeping,” Wrath answers.

“Wear her out again?” I smack Z on the back of the head. “God, you’re a nosy dick.” Hope bustles out of the kitchen, and we fall silent. She casts a suspicious glance at each of us. “Talking about pussy, guys?” Wrath snorts. “Tryin’ to. Your man keeps slapping us.” She giggles and bumps him with her hip. Suddenly, I’m not too happy leaving her here alone with him. She sets two mugs down and pours coffee for all three of us. “What did I say about bringing him anything?” I ask her and get an eye-roll in return before she saunters back to the kitchen. Wrath’s gaze focuses on something behind me, and by the look in his eyes, I assume Trinity is awake. She sneaks up behind us and wraps her arms around Z and me, giving each of us a peck on the cheek. “You guys be careful.” I pat her hand. “Hope’s in the kitchen.” “Okay, I’ll shoo her out.” As she walks by Wrath, his arm shoots out to hook his fingers in her back pocket. She giggles as he pulls her back, then cups his cheek, her thumb rubbing over his lips. “I already said good morning to you.” Z and I pick our jaws up off the floor. “Care to share?” I ask once the kitchen door closes. “Nope.” “She and Hope seem tight lately,” Z tosses out. Wrath eyes him warily. “I bet they share a lot of girl talk.” Z continues poking the bear. At that, Wrath smirks and casts his sneaky gaze my way. “Yeah, they do.” “Fuck you both,” I mutter. Hope storms out of the kitchen. “Did you make Trin kick me out?” “Get over here,” I call. She stomps over, face screwed into one of her sexy-as-fuck pouts. I pat my lap and she settles against me with minimal squawking. “I want to spend time with you before I leave, Baby Doll,” I whisper against her ear. My words sink in and she goes all soft against me. Exactly the response I was after. Trinity sets plates in front of us. Hope playfully feeds me bits of toast. Even with my brothers making gagging noises next to us, I love every second of it.

When Rock runs upstairs to grab a few more things before they take off, I’m able to get Z alone. “Can we talk?” “Yeah, babe, what’s up?” “You remember that talk we had about Rock’s need to protect the people he cares about?” “Of course.” “You’ll watch out for him, right?” “Always.” “I couldn’t… You know I lost my husband. And I think you understand how I feel about Rock… I couldn’t stand to lose someone else I love.” Z lets out a long sigh. “There’s no guarantees in life. You know that better than anyone probably. But I’d protect him with my own life, babe. I can promise you that.” “Okay.” “Fuck. I shouldn’t say anything.” He ducks his head and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “Look, this run? It’s not dangerous. I mean, it shouldn’t be. All friendly territory. Okay? So try not to worry.” Stunned barely covers it. That’s a lot for Z to share with me about club business, and I’m extremely grateful. “Now look who’s dragging ass,” Rock says, coming up behind me. Z’s mouth curves into a wide grin. He quirks an eyebrow at me as if to ask if I’m satisfied with his answer, so I nod. Rock’s arms slip around my ribcage and pull me tight against him. His lips tease against my earlobe. “Next run I have to go on, I want you with me,” he says so low my knees turn to jelly. I squirm around until I’m facing him and throw my arms around his neck. “Is that allowed?” “Fuck yeah. If I say so, it is.” “Okay. I think I’d like that.” His lips curve into a soft, sexy smile, and suddenly, I don’t think I can survive five minutes without him. “You gonna be a good girl for me while I’m gone?” Good girl. Hmmm… maybe he can’t go soon enough. The frown on my face makes him chuckle. “I want you to rest up and take care of yourself. Have Trinity or one of the guys drive you anywhere you want to go.” I open my mouth to protest, but Rock silences me with a kiss. “Please? I’ll worry about you otherwise, baby. I already feel like shit for leaving you so soon after you got out of the hospital.” My throat clogs, and it takes a second to remember how to breathe. “Okay. I can do that.” “Thank you, baby.”

CHAPTER SIX

I shouldn’t have been so eager for Rock to go, because now I’m miserable and miss

him like crazy. Even though Wrath and Trinity are downstairs, the house seems quiet, giving me plenty of time for my thoughts to turn dark. Lucky for me, Heidi calls and shakes me out of my melancholy. She’s the reason two days later, I find myself driving us to Planned Parenthood. Sneaking past my two watchdogs was easy enough. Wrath and Trinity tend to disappear right after breakfast. How I got nominated for this job, I’m not sure. I understand not wanting to talk about birth control with her grandmother. Heidi says she can’t tell Trinity because she will tattle to her brother, and she doesn’t want Axel to get his ass kicked. I sigh. “Honey, if you’re worried, maybe it’s a sign you’re not ready.” She makes this exaggerated, eye-rolling duh face at me. “Well, I’m not yet. I just want to be prepared. You know. In case.” Can’t argue with that logic. “I didn’t even tell Axel ‘cause I didn’t want him to think I was giving him the green light or something.” Good girl. Heidi’s quiet for a while, twisting her hands in her lap. “Are you having second thoughts?” “No. I just—will you promise not to laugh?” “I’ll do my best.” She groans out a very dramatic, teenage girl noise, and I almost lose it. “Well, I always thought, you know, Blake would be my first. Is that stupid?” Reaching over, I put my hand over one of hers and give her a gentle squeeze. “No, that’s not stupid, honey. First loves are very powerful.” “Ugh, I’m not in love with him.” Seriously—I’m going to bite my tongue off I’m trying so hard not to laugh. “I love Axel. He’s super sweet and always listens to me. Murphy has turned into a big manwhore like my brother.” She fake shivers. “They are so disgusting.” Yeah, I’d really like to steer this conversation… elsewhere. “Okay. Listen to your gut, though. Don’t let anyone talk you into doing something you’re not ready to

do.” “Hope, I needed a ride, not a mom lecture.” “Listen up, kid. You asked for my help, so that means you get my advice too. And I am not old enough to be your mother.” Well, maybe biologically I am, but good grief. “I say it as your friend. I’d say the same thing to my best friend Sophie if she started dating someone new.” “You would?” “Yes.” Sophie would tell me to fuck off, but still. “Oh my God, you’re not gonna tell Uncle Rock are you?” I have to stop myself from giggling at the panic in her voice. “This just occurred to you now?” We pull into the clinic lot and I shut off the car. “I won’t say anything as long as you promise to think about what I said.” She glances at the building. “Does it hurt?” “It’s uncomfortable, but no, it doesn’t hurt.” Given what I just went through, I can’t say I’m excited to be inside Planned Parenthood. But this trip also brings back memories of me at Heidi’s age. I didn’t have anyone to go with me, and I’m glad I can be here for her now. When she’s finally done, Heidi doesn’t look as enthusiastic as when we arrived. I hang on to my completely inappropriate chuckle by a thread. In the car, she whips out a brown paper bag. “They gave me a bunch of condoms too,” she says with a look of disgust. “Better to use two methods and be safe than sorry.” What I said hits me, and I almost burst into tears. Dammit. “Ugh, yeah, they said the same thing.” She glances at me. “You, uh, haven’t seen Axel with any girls at the clubhouse, have you?” I honestly haven’t and I tell her so. “He’s usually outside working on stuff when I see him.” “Okay. I mean, I trust him, but I know how bikers are too.” Interesting. “Honey, it’s not just bikers who cheat.” “Yeah, duh, I know. But…” She shakes her head. “Nothing.” It’s stupid, but suddenly I’m wondering what Rock is up to—wherever he is. “Hope?” she asks, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Yes?” “Um, do you think I should wait? I mean, all my friends have already… But I don’t—” “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Don’t let your friends talk you into something because they want to feel better about their own decisions.” She sucks in a deep breath. “Oh, wow. I never thought of it like that.” Finally, I’ve managed to impart some useful wisdom here. “Um, if I tell you something, promise you won’t tell anyone else? You’re a lawyer, right? So you have to keep this between us if I ask you to.”

I groan because that’s a dirty trick. “It depends. If it’s something I think is dangerous to you, then no, I don’t.” “No, nothing dangerous. But, um. Blake and I kissed.” “What?” I’m trying to drive, but I don’t think I can have this conversation and concentrate on the road at the same time. There’s a McDonald’s right before the entrance to the thruway, so I pull into their parking lot. “Are you hungry?” I ask. “No. Are you mad? Please don’t tell Uncle Rock. I don’t want my brother to find out. He’ll be pissed, and they’ve been best friends forever.” Her concern for the other people in this situation startles me. She’s so young, but she’s also wiser than her age in some ways. Closing my eyes and sighing, I ask, “When?” She waves her hand in the air. “Last Christmas, and then the night of my birthday party.” Dammit. I suspected more than an innocent ride went on the night the cops brought the two of them back to Rock’s house. “Is that it?” “Yeah. I mean, I wanted… but he said no.” I can’t help snorting at that image. Poor Murphy. “And?” “He’s pretty much been avoiding me since.” Good. “Hope, please don’t say anything. I don’t want Axel to find out. He already knows there’s some weirdness there. And I don’t want you thinking… If it wasn’t Blake, I’d never do that behind Axel’s back. I’m not some slut.” Turning in my seat so I can see her better, I take her hand in mine. “Heidi, I would never think that about you.” “Well, I’ve heard my whole life what a slut my mother was, and I’ve tried really hard not to be like her.” That grandmother of Heidi’s really pisses me off. Saying things like that to a kid about her mother. For Heidi’s sake, I keep a lid on my anger. “That’s a rotten word, and I’m sorry you’ve had to hear that about your mom. I would never think that about you, Heidi. It’s okay to be a little confused and have all these feelings. Just be careful.” Crap. I have no fucking clue what I’m saying or if I’m saying the right thing. What do I know? “Honey, you’ve got so much to worry about the next few months. You’ve got graduation coming up. Try to focus on that stuff. You can sort the relationship stuff out later.” She shakes her head, a cloud of sorrow settling around her. “You know when I was a freshman, I made Blake promise to take me to prom, and now Axel expects to take me.” I don’t want to laugh, because I can see this is bothering her, but I highly doubt Murphy is expecting to be held to that promise. “It’s okay, Heidi. I’m sure Murphy will understand.” She huffs out a long sigh and wrinkles her nose. “I gotta find a stupid dress.”

Okay, I’ve been holding in my laughter all day. “I can help you with that.” “Yeah?” She looks so hopeful my heart breaks for her. “Sweet! Thanks.” “Anything else you need to unload on me before we head back to your house?” She rolls her eyes at me. “No. But can I get a milkshake?” Putting the car gear, I glance over at her. “You got it.” Teller is in the front yard when I pull up to the grandmother’s house. He jogs over to greet us, and I roll down my window. “Hey, I didn’t realize she was out with you, Hope. I’ve been going nuts.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see a red-faced Heidi shoving her Planned Parenthood swag bag in her purse. “Sorry.” I’m not really sure what else to say. Heidi is quicker at thinking—or lying—on her feet. “She took me shopping for a prom dress,” she says as she steps out of my car. He looks at her and then inside my car. “Yeah, where is it?” “I didn’t find any I liked. Thanks, Hope!” Heidi slams the door and runs inside. Teller leans on my car. “You didn’t have to do that, Hope.” I shrug nervously. I like Teller, so lying to him bugs me. “She’s a fun kid.” He snorts. “Yeah, fun. She’s a fucking handful.” “Nah, she’s a sweet girl. I like spending time with her.” “Well, I appreciate it.” He cocks his head at me. “How’d you manage to get out of the house, anyway? I thought Rock didn’t want you out by yourself?” My cheeks heat up, but I shrug it off. “I was getting cabin fever.” Teller shakes his head. “Rock’s gonna kick all our asses.” “Well, then don’t tell him,” I joke back. He grins at me. “Drive back safe, Hope.” Alone in the car, I’m assaulted with a hundred different images and feelings from my childhood. Especially after my father died. Loneliness. Desperation. Fear. I haven’t been to my house since before the hospital, so I want to stop there before going back to the clubhouse. After pulling in the driveway, I just sit and stare at the house for a while. It didn’t escape my notice that Rock called my mother when I was in the hospital. From my phone, I’m able to see the call lasted long enough that they must have had some sort of chat about my condition. Yet she’s never tried to get in touch with me to see if I’m okay. I’m not at all surprised, but it still hurts. I wander through my house, staring at my stuff, thinking of what I can get rid of and what I’d keep. In the bedroom, I stop and stare at Clay’s side. I managed to get rid of his clothes finally, but his other things are still here. Grabbing a few boxes, I set about packing up more stuff. I should call Lynn and see if she wants any of it, but the thought of speaking to her makes me ill. Actually, maybe it’s not Lynn making me feel bad. I’ve probably done way more than I should have today.

Leaving the boxes on the bed, I stare at my bookshelf. Three photo albums are lined up on the bottom. One has the only pictures remaining of my dad. One is filled with friends I haven’t seen since high school, and the last is my wedding album. I pull out the green leather one that has the old family photos and the whiteand-gold wedding album before plopping down on the floor. It’s been so long, sometimes I just have memories and impressions of Dad more than a clear picture of him in my mind. To me, he was the biggest, strongest man in the world, and I always felt safest around him. My favorite picture is in the front of the album. Christmas morning, my dad helping me ride my first tricycle. It was shiny purple with white flowers, and I rode that thing until my knees hit the handlebars two years later. In my pocket, my phone buzzes against my hip, startling me out of my reverie. It’s Wrath. Uh-oh, my escape has been discovered. Thankfully, it’s just a text. Where the fuck are you? Nice. On my way back. Grabbing the two albums, I search my closet for a bag to put them in and then toss in some extra clothes on top. I don’t get any more texts from Wrath, but he’s waiting for me when I return. “Where the fuck did you go?” he snarls at me as I walk in the door. “I, uh, took Heidi out.” “You didn’t think to tell me? Rock’s gonna have my ass.” “I didn’t want to bother you.” My gaze flicks around the room, seeking Trinity, but she’s not here. “I figured I’d be back before you noticed I was gone.” He shakes his head at me. “Teller called me.” “That little fucker,” I grumble. Wrath laughs. “Agreed. But still, not cool, Hope. You took so long getting here from his house you had me worried.” My eyes sting seeing that he’s sincere. “I’m sorry. I stopped by my house to grab a few things.” “Okay. You need to go anywhere else, though, just tell me.” Yeah, right—he would’ve loved to tag along with Heidi and me today. “I think I’m done. I’m exhausted.” I’m not lying either. I’m thinking of sprawling out on the couch because I don’t have the energy to crawl upstairs. “Go get some rest, Cinderella.”

“Move along, sweetie,” I growl at this bitch for the second damn time.

Z’s sitting beside me, quivering with laughter. Asshole. Murphy’s off balls deep in some bitch who tagged him the minute we got here. The ride did its job and cleared my head. Only to have it fucked with when we stepped inside the Devil’s Demons clubhouse. I haven’t set foot in this place in probably seven or eight years. Back when the Demons and I had a mutual enemy that needed to be put to ground. We’ve maintained a friendly relationship between our clubs, but since Wrath or Z usually took the runs that sent them through Demon territory, there’d been no need for me to come out. After blowing off sweet butts all night, I have to say I haven’t missed this place at all. Their president, the aptly named Stump, settles on the stool next to me. “Nothin’?” “Naw, man, prez here is all wifed up now,” Z chirps. “So fucking what?” Stump grumbles. “Been there, done that. This one’s a keeper,” I tell him, hoping it will shut him up. “Yeah, found himself a real smart, classy girl,” Z adds. It’s a nice thing to say, and I appreciate Z feels that way about Hope. But I’m not sure if I want Z talking about Hope’s charms to a guy like Stump. The less he knows about my personal life, the better. A sharp bark of laughter erupts from Stump. “What’s that like?” “It’s good,” I answer with a straight face. Stump studies me for a minute. “Never thought I’d see that. Good for you.” Surprised, I thank him. “How you been? Besides the wife thing?” Stump asks. Wife. Fuck, I wish. That needs to fucking happen soon. “Good. Business is good.” Demons are into way harder stuff than we are. Always have been, and that’s fine. They can keep their H, coke, and weapons running. I really don’t give two fucks if they think I’ve gone “soft.” None of the brothers in my charter are serving life sentences. The average life expectancy of a King is much higher than a Demon too. Those are the things I take pride in. “Sucked about that thing awhile back. We got short notice about that wedding. Didn’t realize how close that park was to your area.” I wave my hand in the air. “Not a problem.” He jerks his chin at Z. “Well, at least we got to chat. I hear you’ve got a line of good shit coming up.” I give Z the signal and he strolls outside. “That we do.” Z returns and drops a package of our new strain on the bar. “Since when you run weed?” I ask. Stump takes a long drag of his cigarette before answering. “People ain’t buying the heavy shit around here no more. Everyone wants the fucking green these days.

Got no regular suppliers around here. Just punks.” “I can get you a steady stream. I can’t guarantee we’ll be able to run it all the way out here every time.” “My guys can meet you halfway. Outside Syracuse?” “That would work.” We hammer out a few more details. I gotta add a hefty surcharge because of the travel involved and the fact that Stump is stuck and can’t buy good, reliable shit anywhere else. I also need to make sure this deal stays off the radar of the GSC. “How’s Trinity doin’? She still with your club?” My jaw clenches. “Yup. Still a big help to us.” “That’s good. I remember she was a nice kid. Nothing like her whore mother.” I make a noise that sounds something like agreement. “How’s Wrath?” “Laid up with a broken leg.” “No shit. Didn’t think anything could take that big fucker out.” “Yeah, he’s plenty pissed about it too.” We end up talking business for a while. When we exhaust that topic, we catch up on some other things. Around midnight, my phone goes off. Thinking it might be Hope, I step outside to answer it. “Rocky?” comes the tentative voice over the line. “Who’s this?” “It’s me, Inga.” Fuck. “What do you want?” “Don’t hang up, please.” I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me. I should hit end. There’s no reason for us to talk, but I feel a little shitty for the way things ended between us. “I’m here.” “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” Aw, Christ. “Okay.” “I, uh, you surprised me with Hope.” “Inga—” “No, no. I just want to explain.” In the background, there’s suddenly a lot of noise. “Where are you?” “Back in California.” As soon as she says it, I realize I never actually knew where she lived when she wasn’t traveling. It kind of makes me feel like a dick. “Well, not home, though. I’m in rehab.” Fuck, I don’t know what to say to that. “That going okay?” “Yeah. Yeah, it is. I’m leaving the film industry and dancing.” Shit. “Sounds like that’s for the best.” “Yeah, it is. I thought I could handle everything, but, well, I couldn’t. Obviously.” Her soft, nervous laughter comes through the line, surprising me. I

can’t remember ever hearing Inga less than one hundred percent confident. It’s why I always thought our arrangement worked so well. I swear I’m not so fucking full of myself that I think I’m the reason for her troubles, but I gotta ask anyway. “Inga, I’m sorry if I ever—” “No, Rock. You were always straight with me. I think I just had it in my head that when I retired from dancing and films, maybe we could be together for real, but—” “Shit, Ing, I’m sorry if I led you on.” “You didn’t. You were always honest. You treated me well, trust me. Maybe that’s why I just figured there could be more between us. I don’t know.” Nothing she’s saying is making me feel like any less of a shithead. As if she hears my thoughts, she continues. “Ah, I’m not trying to make you feel bad or blaming you for my problems. That’s not why I called. I’ve had this habit a long time. I just always hid it well, but it finally caught up with me.” Now I’m pissed I never noticed she had a drug problem and wonder how many other girls at CB are hooked on shit. “Anyway, I kinda freaked out when I saw how serious you were with Hope. She doesn’t seem like your type. I mean, she’s awfully sweet. I feel terrible…” “Inga, it’s fine. Just worry about getting yourself together.” “Thanks. Will you tell Hope I’m sorry?” “Yeah, sure.” Like fuck am I telling Hope about this phone call. She doesn’t need the stress. “I, uh, already called Dex and apologized to him.” “That’s good.” “Okay. I’ll let you go. Thanks for listening.” I don’t know how to respond. I want to end in a nice way so she can do her program with a clear head, but I don’t want to encourage any more phone calls either. “Get yourself well, Inga. Don’t worry about anything here. We’re good. Okay?” I’d like to offer her some nice platitude like, “Your job is here when you’re ready,” or “Feel free to call me if you need something,” but they’re both lies, so I bite my motherfucking tongue. “Thanks, Rock.” We say our good-byes and hang up. We’re going to be able to head home earlier than planned. So the day before we leave, I decide to do some sightseeing, which is a joke—there’s nothing of note for miles—and make a special stop. Z’s all for it, until I hand over what I want to the artist. “Prez, you fucking serious?” “As a heart attack.” He flicks his hand against the paper. “You’re the first one always telling us not to do this.” I flick his shoulder in retaliation for touching the drawing. “Yeah, saved you

some trouble once or twice too, didn’t it?” Z shakes his head and gives me a comical eye-roll worthy of the most dramatic club girl. “Fine, let me see it again.” Reluctantly, I hand over the drawing. Since I guess he’s over the shock, he gives it a more critical review this time. “You have Bricks do it?” “Yeah.” “I guess it looks good. Pretty sappy, though.” “Fuck you.” Z smirks. “Where?” “Her favorite spot.” Z gags. “I don’t think Bronze wants to see your dick.” Bronze chuckles. “I’ve tatted worse, dude. Trust me.” I knock Z back with a slap and point to the spot I want the ink to go. Christ, just thinking about the way she likes to kiss and nuzzle my hip gets me hard “Not my dick, fuck face.” I settle into the chair and let Bronze do his thing. He gets carried away and wants to add some color and shading to my pirate ship. “‘Nother time. Why’d you have to set up shop so far away?” Back in the day, he was the only one I would let near me with a needle. He chuckles softly, his eyes and hands never wavering. “Kings need an official tattoo guy? I’ll move back.” I snort at that. “You’ll have to do more than that to earn your keep, man. Besides, I thought you were tight with Stump’s crew?” “I am. It’s boring as fuck out here, though.” “Empire ain’t exactly jumpin’,” Z says. Bronze grunts and keeps working. “The talent out here is lacking.” I don’t want to disturb him, so I hold in my laughter. After a while, the buzzing and pain lulls me into a meditative state. The whole time, I’m imagining the look on Hope’s face when she finds this surprise.

My adventure with Heidi wore me out more than I realized. After sleeping in the next morning, I wander downstairs to find Wrath taking up residence on the couch. “Hey.” He looks up with a faint smile on his face. Jerking my chin toward his cast, I ask, “How’s the leg?”

“Okay.” “You eat breakfast yet?” A small smirk, so I guess he’s forgiven me for sneaking out yesterday. “I’m fine. Thanks.” No one’s in the kitchen. Not even Trinity. I scarf down some cereal and return to the living room. “Where’s Trin?” Wrath’s jaw ticks. “Out.” Oh dear. I’m not touching that. I throw myself into the corner of the other couch that sits at a ninety-degree angle with the one Wrath’s on. He glances over at me, taking in my sweatshirt, flannel pants, and wool socks. “You cold?” “I’m okay.” He grunts and returns his attention to the television. I don’t think we’ve ever sat this close to each other when I wasn’t distracted by Rock or Wrath wasn’t trying to scare the crap out of me. The sleeveless shirt he’s wearing shows off his ink. Like a doof, I sit and stare, trying to make out the different images in the full-sleeve tattoo. The one on his upper bicep intrigues me the most. “Is that Thor’s hammer?” His lip quirks before he swings his gaze to me. Thrusting out his arm so I can see the intricate Celtic design better, he answers, “Yeah. You got any ink, Hope?” I shake my head. “Didn’t think so.” If he’s trying to be insulting, it’s lost on me. When I don’t take the bait, he falls back against the couch, studying me. I guess I look a little stiff. “You still in pain?” he asks, his voice laced with surprising concern. “A bit. I stopped taking the pain pills ‘cause they made me loopy.” Leaning over, he opens a drawer I never noticed in the coffee table and pulls out a long, slim box. “You smoke?” “No.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Never?” “You mean weed?” A snort. “Yeah.” “I tried it in high school a few times.” He nods in an approving manner. “Well, well. You do have a little bit of bad girl in you after all. Come on, Fight Club is even better stoned.” We pass the joint between us, and in no time, I’m out of my mind high. “Feel better?” Giggling too hard to answer, I nod my head. “Feeling no pain.” I gasp. He gives me a blissed-out, serene smile. “Why’re you being so nice to me, Wrath?”

Exhaling a stream of smoke, he flicks his bloodshot eyes my way. “I been mean to you, sugar?” More giggles. “Uh, duh. Yeah.” He passes the joint to me again, and I inhale like a pro now. “You proved yourself. You got enough love for Rock to accept all this shit,” he says, waving his hand in the air. I’m not exactly sure what he means, but I don’t interrupt him. “Known Rock more than twenty years. Went through lotta bad shit together. Never seen him cry once until that day in the hospital when he thought he might lose you.” Maybe it’s the pot, or maybe it’s lingering hormones, but my eyes well up. He wags a finger at my face. “Don’t you cry. Can’t handle females cryin’.” “You think I’m too soft for Rock’s life. For the club, I know.” He cocks his head to the side and studies me for a minute. “Yeah, sugar. I ain’t gonna lie. You’re soft. Took me some time to get it, but that’s what Rock likes about you so much. Your softness. Our world is hard most of the time, so I guess he needs that. You give him something he can’t find anywhere else.” Wow. Pot seems to bring out Wrath’s romantic side. And he’s not finished. “Besides…” He continues. “You’re a good girl. You’ve been tough when it counted.” He stops, and before I can absorb all of that, he pins me with a hard but not unkind stare. “You realize I worry about your safety? You ever got picked up by one of our enemies… I can’t even think about it.” Rock has told me bits and pieces, but the grave tone Wrath uses makes the threat of their rivals seem much more real. “Shit, Wrath.” “Hope, we’ve worked damn fuckin’ hard to strike a balance and keep our alliances tight.” He shakes his head and gives me a level stare. “But this life ain’t easy on women.” “What about Trinity?” His face hardens. “She’s been through enough.” “You love her, don’t you?” I must be high or I’d never go there. Wrath doesn’t answer my question. Not really anyway. He snorts. “That girl’s made me work harder than anything in my life.” We’re silent after that. I don’t know what to think. I sniffle and swipe under my eyes. “I miss him.” “Yeah. I know. I’m sorry, sugar. Shoulda been me on that run.” “What is this ‘run’ anyway? Rock never said.” He rolls his eyes at me. “Club business.” “Ohhhhh.” I let out a snicker. “Top secret, big, bad biker stuff. I get it.” “You are soooo fucked up right now,” he teases. Suddenly, he whips out his cell phone. One look at the screen and a slow smile spreads over his face. “Yo.” His gaze slides over to me. “Yeah, she’s right here.” Pause. “Living room.” Another pause. “Gettin’ her high.” Loud yelling comes out of his phone. “Is that Rock?” I shriek, then throw out my hand for the phone. “Gimmie.”

He slips the phone into my palm with a chuckle. “Hey, baby,” I chirp into the phone. “Hope, what the fuck are you doing?” he yells back. Ignoring the question, I blurt out the only thing on my mind. “I miss you so bad.” His heavy sigh comes through loud and clear. “I miss you too, Baby Doll. We’re wrapping things up early, so I’ll be back soon.” In a lower voice, he adds, “You gonna be ready for me?” “So, so ready.” “Not sure how I feel about you hanging out with Wrath in your impaired condition.” “Pfft.” “Yeah. Is he behaving himself?” “Yes, he’s been a perfect gentleman.” Wrath shakes his head as if I’m ruining his street cred, and it makes me laugh. Rock’s exasperated groan has me giggling even harder. “I am so gonna spank your ass when I get back.” “Not if I spank yours first.” Wrath gags. Rock and I spend considerable time saying our good-byes with a lot of love yous and miss yous. Wrath points a finger-gun at his head. I flip him off. When Rock and I finally hang up, I pass the phone back to Wrath. “He threatened to kick my ass, you know.” I snort at that. “I don’t ever want to see you two trade punches.” “He can hold his own,” Wrath assures me. “I don’t doubt it.” We go back to smoking quietly. Fight Club has never interested me, high or not. Flipping chunks of my hair through my fingers, I notice a lot of split ends. “I need to get my hair trimmed.” Wrath’s eyebrows draw down in a why-are-you-telling-me-this face. “You and Trin should go out tomorrow. Do some sort of girly salon day thing.” “Does she…? She’s not really the girly type.” The door slams. We both look up and find Trinity. “Jesus, it fucking reeks in here.” She comes closer, studying the both of us. “Goddammit, Wyatt. Did you get her high? Rock’s gonna kill you.” “Yeah, he already chewed me out.” He holds out his hands to her. Ignoring the offer to sit in his lap, she plunks down next to me and plucks the joint from my fingers. “Hey!” I yelp. “Trin, Hope wants to go get her hair cut. Can you take her tomorrow?” He flicks his hand at my hair while he’s asking. Exhaling, she nods. “Sure. Girl I know owns that pin-up salon downtown. She always fits me in. I’ll text her later.”

I know the place she’s talking about. “I’m not too nerdy for that place?” She quirks her lips up. “No.” Wrath chuckles at both of us and lights a fresh joint. Trinity’s friend has two spots open. Before we leave for the salon, I catch Wrath slipping a bundle of cash into her hand. She shakes her head, and he leans down to whisper something in her ear. Because I’m so boring, I get a regular wash, trim, and blowout. Trinity has her friend dye the ends of her bright-blond hair beautiful shades of blue and turquoise. It looks amazing, and I’m insanely jealous. As we’re checking out, I discover the cash Wrath shoved at her was to pay for our little excursion. I must say I’m touched. The salon has a lingerie store attached to it that naturally specializes in pin-up style pieces. Trinity yanks me in there next. “You need something sexy for your man when he gets back.” I never thought I’d find myself shopping for fuckwear with a friend, but Trinity makes it fun instead of icky. After a lot of indecision, I settle on an emerald-green halter bra covered in black polka dots and lace accents with a matching ruffletrimmed garter skirt. The high-waist style hides the small scars left from the surgery, which is the reason I finally decide on it. I also grab several pairs of stockings and this sheer spandex and lace open-back panty contraption that ties in the back with a big bow. If I’m indecisive, Trinity is outright reluctant, even though she’s the one who insisted on dragging us in here. I finally manage to shove her in the dressing room with a similar bra and garter skirt set in sapphire blue. After some furious muttering and cursing, she waves me in to help her with one of the hooks. “Geez, girl, it’s like that thing was made for you,” I say, only an itty-bit jealous. “It looks gorgeous with your new hair. Wrath’s going to flip.” Now, this is the first time I’ve acknowledged what anyone with two eyes and a brain can see. She blushes and offers a weak denial. “Sorry,” I say. Although I’m not. After our awkward moment, I have to talk her into getting the set. She finally relents and takes forever to get dressed again. We go out for burritos before we head home. Yes, somewhere along the way, I started thinking of the clubhouse as home. As she pulls the car around the back of the building, I’m bummed to see Rock’s bike still isn’t here. When he said he’d be back sooner than he thought, I’d been hopeful that meant today. Wrath eyes the bags in our hands right away. “Get anything good?” he asks with a restless smile. Making a run for the stairs, I shout, “Nothing but some sex-wear.” A growl, a squeal, and a door slamming are all I hear from Wrath and Trinity for the rest of the night.

CHAPTER SEVEN

The next morning, Wrath’s all twitchy while I’m curled up on the couch, trying to read. He keeps checking his phone and shooting weird faces in my direction. “What?” I ask for the tenth time. “Nothing,” he answers for the tenth time. The rumble of bikes can be heard outside, and I swear my panties are soaked the minute my brain registers what it means. “You’re evil! Why didn’t you tell me?” Wrath grins. “Go greet your man.” I’m already off the couch and halfway to the door before he gets the sentence out. Flinging the front door wide open—there he is. My belly flips. I fly into his arms, almost knocking him down. Effortlessly, he lifts me, my legs wrapping around his waist, our lips fusing together. Time stops while our tongues twine together. Every soft, teasing stroke tells how much he missed me. We must have stayed like that for a long time. Eventually, Z clears his throat and we break our kiss. Rock’s face makes it clear how much he didn’t appreciate the interruption. “Don’t kill me, but you’re blocking the door, and I’d really like to get inside and take a fucking shower,” Z says in a rush. A peal of giggles comes out of me. “Sorry.” Rock tightens his grip on my ass as he takes us inside. I nuzzle my face against his neck, breathing him in. As my man takes us up the stairs, I hear Wrath and Z greeting each other. I hear Murphy thumping some bags on the floor, and then I lose track of everything except us. Inside our room, he sets me down gently. My chest tightens as I take him in. I can’t believe this sexy man is all mine. Taking another look at him, I can’t believe how hungry he is. For me. My insides melt seeing how much he still wants me. He slips off his cut, still not taking his eyes off me. My jaw clenches as I remember the outfit I’d wanted to surprise him with. Dammit. My face must reveal a hint of annoyance.

“Are you okay, Baby Doll?” Oh no. I don’t want him to think for a second that I’m not ready. I’m so damn ready I think I’ll explode from just the sight of him without his shirt. Pressing my body against him, I shamelessly run my palm over the thick, heavy bulge behind his fly. His stormy-gray eyes watch my face, but I see I’m getting to him. My tongue darts out to wet my bottom lip. “I need you badly, Rochlan,” I whisper. “You’ve got me.” He strips out of the rest of his clothing. I hesitate because I’m still a little insecure about some of the remaining marks from the surgery. He seems to understand as he tugs me over to the side of the bed. Keeping hold of my hand, he reaches into the nightstand and scatters a bunch of condoms on top. My teeth sink into my lower lip. “I’m sor—” He’s on me instantly. “Don’t. You. Dare.” Both hands cup the sides of my face and he tips me up for a kiss. At first, his touch is light, using his heat and a hint of pressure to invite me to open to him. The tip of his tongue touches mine, sending a shudder from my head to my toes. With a cherishing slowness, he tugs off my clothes, steps back, and inhales sharply. “Hope,” he breathes out. “I’ve missed you so much.” The sound of his voice, throbbing with so much emotion, makes my eyes sting. He tumbles into the bed, stretching out on his back. Reaching for me, he takes my hand and guides me onto the mattress. On my knees next to him, I wait while he gazes up and down my body. Then, ever so slowly, his fingers trace the same path. “Tell me how you need it,” he commands. “Slow and easy.” He reaches over and grabs one of the condoms, carefully rolling it on while he watches my face for any reaction. He sits up and tugs me into his lap. “Just a precaution, we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for yet,” he says while stroking my hair and kissing down my neck. The tips of my breasts rub against him, sending a rush of pleasure through my body. He groans, and I can feel the restraint radiating through him. His mouth finds my nipple, lips sucking, tongue lashing, wet and greedy. Possessive hands knead and plump both breasts. “Please,” I sob. I need him inside me. I need to be certain he’s still mine. “Take me, Baby Doll. Take me the way you need to. I’m right here.” I shiver and ache, needing to feel him inside me. Lifting and settling myself, I place his pulsing erection at my opening, sliding down so carefully. “Oh, oh,” I moan at the familiar and dearly missed pleasure. His lips roam over my jaw and neck. “Good girl. Fuck, you feel so good. I’ve missed this, baby.” I rock up, then back. My hips move, my thighs clench, and I focus all my energy

on reuniting with my man. My sudden orgasm takes me by surprise. Swift and brutal. It’s almost too much. When I open my eyes, Rock grins at me. His hand cups my face, his thumbs gently rubbing over my cheek. “My girl needed that, huh?” Blushing, I look away. He falls back against the pillows, and I follow him down, covering him with my body while he pins me tightly to him. My lips press and nip at his skin as my hips keep restlessly working him. It’s a very different but no less intense sensation from this angle. Pressing his palm over my ass, he slows my movement. “Stretch your legs out,” he whispers against my hair. I do as he asks, extending my legs straight between his spread thighs, while angling my hips to keep him where I need him. Holding me tightly to keep me still on top of him, he thrusts up into me over and over. From this angle, the penetration isn’t deep, but the friction sends me spiraling into another orgasm, my nails digging into his shoulders. Our sweat-slicked skin slips and slides against each other. Shuddering, Rock tightens his arms and buries his face against my throat. “I love you so much, Hope,” he murmurs. “I love you too,” I whisper back. We snuggle and cuddle for a while after. Rock taps my hip. “Babe, you wanna say hello to your favorite spot?” I prop my chin on his chest and squint at him. “Is that your subtle way of asking for a blowjob?” His chest rumbles and shakes with laughter. “No. Maybe later.” Curious now, I sit up. He’s lying back with one arm tucked behind his head. I swear he’s so sexy I want to take a million pictures of him just like that. His lips twitch, and as my eyes roam over his body, I remember I’m supposed to be investigating— Oh. Oh! My gaze shoots to his face. I crawl over to his left side. “Can I touch it?” “Of course.” Tentatively, I reach out and touch his smooth, hard muscles, running my fingers down to the sexy V of his hip. “It’s still new. Did I hurt you before?” He snorts. “No, babe.” I trace my fingers over the golden-and-blue anchor. Wait. On closer inspection, I notice the ribbon wrapped around the anchor with three clearly inked words.

STUNNED, I look up at him. “I thought you said you’d never get a woman’s name on your body?” He holds out his hands to me. “Come here.” Tugging me down on top of him, he wraps his hand behind my neck, pulling me close for a kiss. “You’re not just any woman.” “You anchor me too, you know. I felt completely adrift while you were gone.” “That why you got high with Wrath?” he says in a teasing way, then slaps me on the ass. I groan and bite his shoulder. “My baby likes that, huh?” We keep teasing and tickling, and before I know it, we’re wrapped together snugglefucking, and it is fucking fantastic.

I’ve died and gone to heaven. Maybe that’s corny, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s how I feel as I explode into Hope. Not that I’d even been tempted, but I’m so fucking thankful I turned down every tart who approached me on the run. Somehow my girl has gotten ten times more gorgeous in the five days we’ve been apart. Keeping my cock confined from the time she met me at the door until we

made it into the bedroom tested all my will. The minute I got her naked, my instincts screamed to take her hard and raw. One look at her soft, quivering body, and I knew she needed it sweet and slow. So that’s what I gave her. Or rather, what she took from me. And it was better than anything ever. If it’s even possible, the second time blows the first time away. She’s spent, curled against me, holding on to me like her life depends on it, even in sleep. Running my hand over her hair, I kiss her reddened lips one more time. Sliding out of bed so I don’t wake her, I head straight for the shower. Road dust still coats my skin, and I feel a little guilty that I just rubbed myself all over my sparkling girl. I glance down at my new tattoo and grin. Best ink ever. Once I’m clean, I throw on a pair of loose track pants. My girl is still out cold, so I head downstairs. I plan to have a surprise ready for her when she wakes up. Shockingly, downstairs is deserted. Not sure where everyone scattered to, but I don’t really care at the moment. I know they’ll all be back later for a party. We always have a party when brothers return from a run. This party, Hope will be wearing my property patch. I find Z and Dex going over some paperwork in the war room. Z glances up and gives me a dirty smirk. “Reunite with your girl?” “Fuck you.” He turns to Dex. “Can you believe this fuckbutt got his girl’s name inked on him?” Dex raises an eyebrow. “Holy hell. You been bitchin’ at us not to do that for fuckin’ ever.” “Advising, asshat,” I growl. “I’m a little concerned about Z’s obsession with my anatomy.” Z’s not done gossiping about me, though. He jabs a finger in my direction. “You should have seen this fucker turning down wild pussy left and right.” Dex chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re an asshole. I’d rather fuck one good girl, like Hope, who actually gave a shit about me, than ten fuckin’ skanks.” I cross my arms over my chest and try to close my mouth. Never heard D spout off like that. “You all right, bro?” He nods briefly. “Yeah, just statin’ facts. That woman fuckin’ adores you. Looks at you like you’re the only man in the world. Don’t fuck that up. Way more valuable than nailing skanks who spread for anyone with a dick.” Z gives him the side-eye before continuing. “Whatever. You’re both fucked in the head. Never seen so many unhappy whores. Hope’s vagina must be lined in gold.” “Actually, it’s lined in platinum,” comes a soft voice from the doorway. The shock on Z’s face amuses me so much I forget that I want to break his neck for talking about my woman that way. He mumbles out an apology. I take a good look at my girl. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts. It almost reaches

her knees, but I’m pretty sure she’s not wearing a damn thing else. Her hair is all mussed, and she’s so gorgeous I can’t stand my brothers stealing an ounce of her beauty with their hungry gazes. “Eyes elsewhere, assholes,” I grumble at them before turning to Hope. “Baby doll, what are you doing down here?” I bite back the “dressed like that” part, but I think she senses it because she twists her fingers into the hem of the T-shirt, which doesn’t exactly improve the situation. “I got up, and you were gone,” she says simply. “I needed to grab something,” I explain. Eyes sparkling with amusement, she leans against the door frame, crosses her arms over her chest, and lifts her chin at Z. “So wild pussy, huh? Did you take up Rock’s slack?” The asshole actually turns red, and I lose it, laughing so hard my gut aches. When I finally catch my breath, Z’s glaring at me. By the twitch at the corner of his mouth, I know he’s more amused than pissed. I return to what I originally came down here to do, but not before I catch a sly grin spread over Z’s face. “Actually, Hope, I did not partake. You can feel free to pass that along to your friend.” Hope’s gaze skitters to me for confirmation, and I shrug. “I don’t keep track of who garages his dick, babe.” She wants to be outraged, but her lip twitches, giving her away. “You’re awful.” “Now Murphy, on the other hand. Bro collected mouth hugs like fucking quarters,” Z adds. Hope shakes her head. “That’s a mental image I could have done without.” Unlocking my personal cabinet, I tug out the plain brown box. Thank fuck, when her cut arrived, after I examined it to make sure they got the patches right, I put it back in the box. It’s safe, secure, and ready for my girl. Grabbing the box, I salute Z with my middle finger. Wrapping an arm around Hope’s waist, I pull her out of the room with me. “Bye, guys.” She waves over her shoulder. Determining she’s wearing underwear by running my hand over her ass, I ask her to hold the package and swing her up into my arms. “What’s in it?” “Nothing. Don’t open it.” Her lips part to protest, I’m sure. “I mean it, Hope.” She bristles but settles down. Voices come out of Murphy’s room, one definitely whiny, and I wonder which club girl is up here so early. When we get inside my room, I set Hope down and turn on the light. “Sit down. I want to show you something.” Her face twitches and she hops from foot to foot. “Can I run to the bathroom

first?” “Yeah, yeah.” While she’s gone, I arrange things the way I want them. And then lose my motherfuckin’ mind when she opens the bathroom door.

The awed expression on Rock’s face is even better than I’d imagined. Propping my arm up over my head in the doorway, I cock my hip in what I hope is a more seductive than awkward pose. “Uh, whatcha wearing, doll?” Running my hands over the bra cups, I stop to plump my breasts. A strangled groan is all I hear from Rock’s side of the room, and I smother a smile. I slide my hands down to my hips, smoothing them over the satin garter skirt. My fingers skip down to adjust the garters holding up my sheer black stockings. Then I twist to check the ones in the back. “Turn around, babe.” Holding on to the door frame, I do a little spin, arching my back and running my hand over the skirt that doesn’t really do much to cover my ass. “I thought it came with panties, but I guess it didn’t,” I tease. “Looks fine to me. Now quit messing around and get the fuck over here.” The sky-high black platform pumps I borrowed from Trinity click softly over the floor as I make my way to him. His arm encircles my waist when I reach him, sliding around my back so his hand curls over my hip. He tugs me down to the trunk at the end of the bed so we’re sitting, legs touching from hip to knee. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, he murmurs, “When did you get this?” “Yesterday.” “I like. In fact, I think it goes very well with this.” From behind his back, he pulls out a black leather vest. The sight of it makes my stomach churn. My hands tremble. Longing so intense hits, surprising me. “Hey, you look so serious.” He spreads the vest out on his lap so I can see the patches on the back.

Somewhere inside me, I wonder if I should be insulted. A voice taunts me, saying I shouldn’t want to be branded like cattle. It’s archaic and wrong. But a calmer voice overrides my inner sarcasm, cherishing the feeling of belonging to someone. This is a symbol of how much I’m wanted, protected, loved by this wonderful man. With cautious fingers, I reach out to trace the embroidered words. “I didn’t think you still wanted me to have it.” What I mean is I’m not sure I deserve something of this magnitude. His rough fingers brush down my face, chasing away some of my anxiety. “Baby doll, there is no one else who could ever wear this. You’re the only woman I’ve ever offered my patch.” My heart squeezes. He flips it over to show me the patch that reads “First Lady” on the left side. Four smaller symbols along the bottom right catch my attention. Tracing my fingers over them, I seek his eyes. “What are these?” His mouth curves into a soft smile. “Your seal of approval from the other officers.” “What?” He points to the green four-leaf clover. “That’s Murphy’s. The dollar sign is Teller’s. The Z is… Well, you can figure that out because he’s not very creative.” Rock tips his head up, a smirk playing over his lips. “This last one.” He points to a blue-and-black nautical star. “That’s Wrath’s.” Thinking about it, I remember he has a bigger one of these on his own cut and at least two of them tattooed on him. “He voted me in too?” “Yeah, doll. That means they’ve always got your back.” “Wait, where’s yours?”

He cocks his head and points to the crown over the First Lady patch. “Right there, babe.” I’m not sure what to say, so I lean over, wrap my hand around the back of his neck, and pull him to me for a long, drugging kiss. Barely breaking contact, he stands us up and holds the vest for me to slip into. There are several slim buckles on each side, and he works to fit the vest to my shape. Once he arranges it the way he wants, he twirls his finger in the air, asking me to spin for him. “That’s perfect, Baby Doll.” He turns his head. “Go stand in front of the dresser and take a look.” With the heels giving me the extra height, I can see the entire outfit, including a hint of my bits peeking from beneath the flounce of the tiny garter skirt. Our eyes meet in the mirror as he slowly approaches me. He stops behind me, just watching. Then he slips something over my head, dangling it in front of me. A necklace. “What’s that?” I ask, reaching out to touch the simple gold anchor pendant suspended sideways between a delicate gold chain. “For you. Didn’t think you’d be ready for some ink, so I got you this instead.” My throat constricts and tears fill my eyes. I’m stunned. Bewildered. Between his tattoo, the vest, and the pendant, it seems the entire time he’d been away, I’d never been far from his mind.

I’m so motherfuckin’ turned on. My girl wearing my patch and some of the sexiest scraps of lace I’ve ever seen has me ready to blow. As she lets me drape the necklace over her head, a calmer feeling settles over me. The gold chain glitters over her pale skin, highlighting the beautiful angles of her collarbones. Meeting her gaze in the mirror, I can sense her uncertainty. I reach out and mold myself to her body, cupping her hips and pulling her against me. Sliding my hands down, I knead the flesh of her plump little ass. Her hair is all twisted up in this sexy, messy little knot, and I grab it, angling her head so her neck is exposed for my tongue. Very slowly, I make my way to her ear, gently licking. She lets out a mewl and her hips shoot back, bumping my cock. “Put your hands on the dresser,” I whisper in her ear. This tiny fucking skirt thing is killing me. I’m so damn turned on knowing while I was away, she went out and bought this skimpy thing to surprise me when I

returned. As I run my finger under one of the garter straps, she exhales sharply. “That tickles,” she moans. I love my girl like this, all breathy and needy. “Stay like that.” Keeping my eyes trained on her, I walk backward to my nightstand and grab a condom. My cock’s in my hand and I’m rolling down the latex before I get back to her. Once again, I squeeze and stroke her ass cheeks, pushing and spreading. “Arch your back.” My hand slips lower to her satiny pussy. Little shudders work through her body as I push into her from behind. My hands smooth up and down her thighs. “Are you okay?” “Yes. Just be gentle.” “Always.” My thighs coil with tension, wanting desperately to slam into her. Slow. I give it to her slow, until my cock fucking throbs with every stroke. She quivers and gasps. I flatten my chest against her back, finding her clit and rubbing until she yelps, short, sharp little cries of pleasure. I’m rocking into her so hard the dresser thumps against the wall, but I can’t pull back. Her pussy keeps squeezing me so fucking tight. She bucks wildly against me, and I lose it. I come with a burst of violent intensity. “Fuuuuck!” She’s whimpering in my arms and still grinding backward on my half-hard cock. “Baby, stop.” I grip her hips, trying to still her restless movements. Her skin’s covered in a fine sheen of sweat. We both are, actually. I kick my pants the rest of the way off, then unzip her vest and set it on top of the dresser. “Shoes off, babe.” She gingerly steps out of them, and I lead her to the bed, where I drop the condom in the wastebasket. I love her sexy little outfit, but I also want to feel all of her soft skin against me. Once I figure out the top half, I seat her on the edge of the mattress, unhook the garter, and work the stockings down her legs. “Scoot.” She hasn’t said a word, and her silence worries me. Once I get her in my arms, I stroke her hair. “Did I hurt you?” “No. It was… amazing.” She’s right. I’ve never been the type of guy to kick a girl out of bed. I never exactly encouraged any to stay either. But snuggling and cuddling with them afterward? Fuck no. A slap on the ass and something along the lines of “thanks for a good time” were as cuddly as I got. That was before Hope. Now I can’t wait to snuggle down with her. Every. Single. Fucking. Time.

“Tell me what you did while I was gone, Baby Doll,” I ask while running my hand over her hair. She props her chin up on my chest, arm banding around my waist. “You mean besides miss you like crazy?” “Yeah.” She lets out a, “Hmmm,” and rolls over to her back. “Went out with Trinity yesterday. Got my hair trimmed. We went and bought the outfits.” “Wait, what?” “Oh. Oops.” I turn and face her. “I’m not sure how I feel about the two of you trying on sexy outfits together.” She snorts. “You’ve watched too many pornos. It wasn’t like that at all.” I chuckle because she’s probably right. “What’s their deal, anyway?” I cock an eyebrow at her, and she rolls her eyes at me. “Wrath and Trinity.” Now I roll my eyes. I’d need a year and a lot of scotch to tell that story. “Christ. They have a long, fucked-up history, Hope. Some of it is my fault. They seem to finally be working their shit out. Leave it at that.” She makes a noise that tells me she’s not satisfied with my answer, so I decide to change the subject. “I heard you took Heidi shopping for a prom dress. That was sweet of you.” “You heard about that?” She tenses up, and I can’t figure out why. Then something occurs to me. “Hope—” “Please don’t.” Fuck. “Tell me she’s not knocked up. Tell me I don’t have to murder Axel.” She lets out a long sigh. “No. Not at all.” My racing heart calms. “So it really was just prom dresses?” That tension again. “Please don’t ask me. I promised her.” “Promised what?” “Club comes first, right? So if I tell you, you’ll tell her brother, and it will cause a big fucking mess. But I don’t want to lie to you either, so please just drop it.” I turn her words over. Club comes first. Yes. Hope is going to be my wife. She also comes first. Not everyone in my world would agree with that, but my way of thinking is I can keep her secrets if sharing them would be bad for the club. Presidential discretion and all that. After I work it out in my head, I explain this to her. “You promise?” I grit my teeth. “Yes.” “She wanted me to take her to the clinic for birth control.” My anger ignites at my girl having to endure that. “Aw, fuck. Baby, after everything you just went through? Jesus Christ.”

“She didn’t know. Look, she’s not there yet with Axel. She just wanted to be prepared in case.” I shake my head. Why the fuck do I need to know these things? And why is my woman the sweetest damn person I’ve ever known? How did I get so lucky? I kind of want to shake Heidi hard next time I see her. Then I remember her as a kid. I’ve known the little troublemaker since she was in fuckin’ pigtails. “I’m going to have to keep that fuckin’ prospect real busy,” I mutter. “Oh, please. Like you weren’t doing the same at seventeen.” Never mind what I was doing. The thought of some horny teenage dickwad putting his hands all over my sweet, innocent Hope pisses me off. “Were you?” I shoot back. “Yes. And I didn’t have anyone to go with me to the doctor, so I’m glad I was there with her.” I roll over and cup her jaw, running my finger over her cheek. “You’re the sweetest. Thank you.” “You’re not mad?” “No. Honestly, it’s none of my business what she does with her body. He’s not that much older than her. It’s not fucking illegal. As long as he doesn’t hurt her, I’d rather not know about it.” “Well, I had the ‘don’t let anyone talk you into things you’re not ready for’ chat with her.” I snort, imagining that conversation must have been a load of fun for both of them. “She wanted to know if I’ve seen Axel with girls up here.” “And?” “I haven’t, so I told her so. She said she knows how bikers are. Pretty fucked up for a kid, no?” “Not really. Her grandmother has strong opinions about us. Heidi’s mom spent time as a club whore before she took off and left her with the grandmother.” “Here?” “No.” I think about the wisdom of Heidi asking Hope questions about her man. “Uh, babe. Part of being an ol’ lady now. You can’t be starting trouble. She asks you a question like that again and you know different, you need to just lie.” She jackknifes into a sitting position. “What are you talking about? If I see him cheat on her, I’m not supposed to say anything?” “Correct.” “That’s the code around here? So if you had availed yourself of some ‘wild pussy’ on your trip, no one would have told me?” “No,” I say simply. “If you nailed someone here, no one would tell me either, would they?” “I’m not nailing anyone but you, so fucking drop it.” I should know better by now. Telling my mouthy lawyer woman to drop something is about the same as waving a red flag in front of a bull.

“No. That’s bullshit. If someone’s in an open relationship, she should at least know about it. Otherwise, what’s the point?” “You are not in an open relationship. No one else’s relationship is our business.” Her voice takes on a deadly soft tone. “So that means if I fuck someone else, no one would tell you either?” “No. That’s not what it means. You better fucking believe if you so much as ever look at another man, I’ll be the first one to know about it.” She glares at me. I glare right back. “Why are we even talking about this, Hope? No one else here even has a committed relationship, so why are we talking about these ridiculous what ifs? And no, two horny teenagers do not count as a committed relationship.” A heavy sigh escapes her. “Fine. But know this: if I catch Wrath with someone, I’ll tell Trinity.” Jesus Christ, she’s a pain in my ass. “Yeah, and what if you catch Trin in a Teller/Murphy sandwich? You gonna go tell him that too?” First, she wrinkles her nose. Then I see the gears turning in her head. She sucks in a deep breath, eyes going all owl-wide. “Oh my. Lucky girl.” “You.” I lunge and tackle her to the bed, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. I seal my mouth over hers. Her tongue slides over mine, soft and inviting. I slip my mouth from hers, kissing her cheek, then down her neck. Tasting and sucking her soft skin all the way. “Rochlan,” she sighs so sweetly. Fucking music to my ears, hearing my full name on her lips. I can never stay mad at this woman. “Rochlan,” she says a little clearer. “You ever cheat on me, and I’ll kill you.” I grin against her throat. “I know, Baby Doll.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

W hen we make it downstairs a little later, we’re greeted with a round of applause.

I assume it’s because I’m wearing the vest Rock gave me—this time paired with jeans. “Hey, porn stars,” Wrath calls out. “I take it she liked the patch, bro?” Z jokes. Whipping my head around, I nail Rock with a glare. He throws his hands up like he has no idea what they’re yammering about. “About time you gave it to her good. Never heard noises like that come out of your room before,” Z adds. I try to laugh it off, but hot tears sting my eyes and my cheeks flare with heat. Turning to head back upstairs, Rock catches me. “I’m going to gut you,” he growls at Z. “Aw, shit, Hope. I’m just messing with you.” “Yeah, and I was trapped down here, so I couldn’t hear a thing,” Wrath adds in his helpful manner. Rock’s hand smoothes up and down my back. “Honey, Z’s not used to girls who don’t need an audience to get off. He thought he was paying you a compliment.” Okay, that’s so stupid it makes me laugh. I’m a little embarrassed for overreacting. “I’m fine,” I say, pushing away from Rock. Keeping a safe distance from him, Z tugs on my hand. “Come here, Hope. Let me see how it looks.” Leading me over to the couch, he drops down and pulls me with him so I’m sandwiched between him and Wrath. Wrath traces the star patch on my side. “Did your man explain these?” “Yes,” I whisper. He stretches one arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. “Good.” “You really voted me in?” His lips curve into a genuine smile. “Yeah, sugar.” “Could you tell which one was mine?” Z asks, making me giggle. “Uh, the four-leaf clover?” I answer in a fake airhead voice. A glance up at Rock shows he’s still giving Z murder eyes. Z notices it too. “Gotta go. Hope, I’ll see you at the party later.”

He gives my hand a quick squeeze and takes off around the other side of the coffee table. Shaking his head, Rock sits next to me. He gives Wrath a hard stare, then slaps his arm off my shoulders. “You’re both looking for it today.” I can’t stand him being cross with his friends because of me. “Stop—I think it’s the hormones still running through me.” Wrath looks queasy, and I suppress a giggle as I watch him shift his body away from us, into the corner of the couch. Rock pulls me against him, nuzzling my hair, kissing the tip of my ear. “Remind me in the future, the dresser may not be the best item to fuck you against.” A warm, happy buzz settles over me. He always knows how to make me feel safe and accepted. I turn my body into him, pressing tight. Tilting my head back, he takes my mouth, kissing away the rest of my sadness. He breaks our kiss and stares at me for a moment. “Are you still in pain?” I shrug. “A little. That’s why Wrath offered to get me high,” I explain with a small smirk. Wrath chuckles. “See, I told you I’d take good care of her.” Rock grunts at him before kissing my neck again. “Tell me where you hurt, Baby Doll.” I flick my gaze to Wrath, sure he really doesn’t want to hear all these details. His eyes are focused elsewhere, though, as if he’s trying to give us privacy. Throwing back my arm, I point at the spot on my shoulder that’s been bothering me the most. Rock brushes my hair to the side and kneads his strong fingers into the muscles of my neck and shoulders. “There?” “Mm-hmm. The doctor said it was probably leftover bubbles from the gas they used in my tummy for the surgery or something like that.” Behind me, Rock hums an affirmative sound and keeps rubbing the spot in question. My head drops forward, and I fall into the pleasurable feelings. “Hey, boss, I could use your help,” someone asks, breaking into the floating sensation. Looking up, I see one of the guys whose name I can’t remember. From what I know, he’s always in the basement. He seems nice enough, if not a little weird. “Let me take care of this, Baby Doll. I’ll be right back.” He gives me a quick peck on the cheek and gets up. “What is it, Sparky?” Sparky, that’s it. After they leave, I turn to Wrath. “Enjoy Trinity’s new outfit?” I ask. A long, slow grin spreads over his face. “I sure did. Heard you got one just like it. That what got prez so worked up?” I tap his side with my fist. “Jerk.” “You started it. I’m not sure if you noticed, but no one’s sex life is a secret

here.” My nose wrinkles. “I’m a bit of a prude, aren’t I?” He chuckles. “We’ll work it out of you. Oh, and I gotta tell you, the idea of you and Trin trying that shit on together is going straight into my spank bank.” “Oh my gosh! It wasn’t like that. And ew.” Wrath’s grin fades a little as he traces a finger over my vest. The contact is brief but odd for him. I can’t quite describe the expression that comes over his face. “I’m sure it had more to do with this. He’s been itching to give it to you for a while now.” “Really?” “Yeah, he got our votes right before you went in the hospital.” A sick feeling twists my gut. We had that awful fight right before that. No wonder he was so furious with me. I need to tell him again how sorry I am. Wrath sits up and turns to face me. “You know you’re family now, and we all bust each other’s balls. If Z picks on you, it’s ‘cause you’re one of us. That and I think you guys woke him up.” Dammit! I feel the tears welling in my eyes again. How much longer did the doctor say this bullshit would last? I sniffle and force out a laugh. “And here you said I’d never be one of you.” The smile on his face fades to a somber expression. “I’m not afraid to admit when I’ve been wrong. Besides, if I gave you shit, I was just worried about him getting hurt.” “Seriously?” “Yeah. He’s the closest I’ve ever had to a brother.” He says it so naturally it tugs at my heart. I don’t know much about Wrath’s childhood, except he was living on the streets by the age of sixteen. And I know Rock’s was no picnic. Even though it was before my time, I’m grateful they managed to find each other. Rock explained it’s Wrath’s job to protect him and protect the club, but it’s clear by Wrath’s face and the sound of his voice he doesn’t only look out for Rock because it’s his duty. A soft sigh escapes me. “If anyone’s going to get hurt, it would be me.” He reaches over and pats my hand. “Yeah, you got it bad for my boy, don’t ya?” Lifting my gaze to his, I see he’s teasing me again, but I answer him honestly. “I do. I really do.” We sit in silence for a while. Wrath glances over at me. “You know, some exercise might help with the pain if it’s trapped gas bubbles.” Startled by the advice, I’m not sure how to respond. Wrath shrugs. “You should get up and work out with Trinity in the mornings.” “Are you calling me fat?” I tease. He runs his gaze over my body before answering. “Fuck no. Just thought it might help.” I think I might have actually hurt his feelings. “Thank you. You sure she’d want me bothering her?” “Yeah, she’d probably like the company. Gotta catch her early, though. Five a.m.

usually.” “Geez. How does she do everything?” He shakes his head. “Girl never sleeps.” The serious way he says it is enough for me to know how much he worries about her. “You should do a better job wearing her out.” He chokes out sharp laughter and grins at me. “Don’t think I haven’t been tryin’.” I’m happy I seem to have cheered him up, but I’m also getting anxious. What the heck is Rock doing downstairs? “Wrath?” “Yes, sugar.” “What’s downstairs?” “The club business,” he answers with a chuckle. When I don’t laugh, he eyes me more seriously. “Rock still hasn’t told you?” “Geez, don’t tell me it’s more strippers,” I grumble. My attempt at a joke doesn’t make him laugh this time. “No strippers.” “Porn studio?” “No, sugar. Nothing like that,” he says, still watching me intently. Rock finally emerges, and Wrath gives him a hard stare. “Can I have a word with you, brother?” Rock waves him off. “Not now. We’ve got a problem.” “Why don’t you take Hope on a tour of downstairs?” Rock’s jaw sets in a hard line. “Not now.” This situation is getting out of control. “Wrath, it’s fine. I don’t—” Wrath cuts me off. “What the fuck you waiting for? You patched her.” Rock’s gaze skips to me. “Fine. You want to see what’s downstairs, Baby Doll?” I’m not really sure. “If you want me to.” “Christ, it’s not that big a deal at this point.” Wrath sighs. “Shut up. Remember, you started this,” Rock growls. The door up here is a dummy door. Decorative. The real door is right below it. Steel. Rock needs to punch a code in and it makes a funny air sealing noise. The smell on the other side is moist, humid, skunky. The first room has nothing but tables covered in packing supplies and empty wooden crates. To the left, it looks like a two-bedroom with an adjoining bathroom setup. Huh. No wonder Sparky doesn’t venture upstairs often. Sparky hustles out of a room to our right. “What up, boss?” When he sees me, he grins broad and happy. “Hey, Hope. I been waiting on prez to give you the tour. Come on.” Rock looks up at the ceiling, muttering to himself. Ignoring him, I follow behind Sparky. I kind of have it figured out. They’ve got a grow house down here. I’m amazed at how extensive their little pot farm is. I shouldn’t be, though, because the center itself is massive. The first room holds the largest plants. “These are almost ready for harvest.

Demons in two weeks, right, boss?” “Shut it, Sparky.” I pretend I didn’t hear anything. Some of the plants look a little different. In fact, each row seems to have distinct characteristics. “Are these all different strains?” Sparky’s grin is fast and relieved. “Yes! It’s so awesome you get that right away.” He starts explaining the different strains he’s developed. Rock huffs behind me. I guess he’s heard the sales pitch before. But I think it’s interesting all the different ways Sparky is able to manipulate his plants. In the next room, the plants are a little smaller. “Now this line is experimental. It’s called ‘deepest gray’ ‘cause it’s gonna get you super high—into like hallucinating shit kinda high.” I chuckle. “How do you do it? Develop the strains?” He launches into a lecture worthy of a college-level science course, and I’m lost. But I nod and ask questions, which seems to make Sparky happy. His demeanor changes as soon as we enter the last room. “This is my latest project, Green Machine. It was for our regular—” Rock cuts him off. “That’s enough, Sparky.” “Okay, yeah. I need it ready to harvest in about six weeks, but they’re sick.” Behind me, Rock sighs. I guess he didn’t want me to know what he’ll be up to six weeks from now. Suddenly, I’m a little pissed he’s been hiding all this from me. A long time ago, he promised me truth. Yet he’s been hiding a major part of his life from me this entire time. Setting aside that thought, I bend down and look at Sparky’s “sick” crop. “What’s wrong? How can you tell they’re sick?” He pulls me closer to the plants and we lean over. “See the brown spots on the tips?” I do indeed see little brown speckles on some of the leaves. “Is it treatable?” “I tried giving them copper and then another supplement, and—” “Wait. Maybe you should let them rest between treatments. See if one works before trying another.” “I’m so careful with the soil, though. I mix everything just so.” He looks at Rock as if disappointing him is the worst thing in the world. I understand the feeling all too well. “I’m sure you’re very careful with them.” Taking a deep breath, I continue. “They’re like your babies, right?” His eyes light up. “Yes! Thank you, Hope.” “So you said this is a new strain. Maybe it’s just more susceptible to certain deficiencies. I bet you’ll figure it out.” We have this entire conversation as we’re leaning over the affected plants. I can practically feel Rock’s eyes boring into me.

When we wind up the tour, I ask Sparky if he’s coming upstairs for the party. He looks at me like I’m nuts. That’s right. He has sick babies to attend to. I’m not sure what it is—he’s definitely spent too much time cooped up with his plants—but there’s something really sweet that I like about Sparky. It’s clear he enjoys what he does and he’s good at it. He tells me he designed and built the entire system downstairs. Rock nods encouragingly. I’m really impressed. “Well, New York is closer to legalizing it for medical use. Maybe when it finally happens, you can start building mini grow houses for people or something.” Rock narrows his eyes at me, and I guess that was the wrong thing to say. Oops. Sparky seems enthusiastic about my idea, though, so whatever. I give him a quick hug and head upstairs, Rock close behind. When I stop to talk to Wrath, Rock keeps going straight upstairs. “Rock?” Wrath frowns, watching Rock’s back. “What did you think?” he asks me. “Pretty cool.” Wrath’s mouth curves into a surprised grin. “You’re very unpredictable, Hope.” I race up the stairs and find Rock almost at the bedroom. Sprinting to catch up, I grab him at the door. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” He shoves inside, and I follow right behind him. “Why didn’t you just tell me sooner? I hate that you’re still hiding stuff from me.” Actually, the more I think about it, the more pissed I get. “Why did you bother giving me this if you don’t trust me?” I say, jabbing a finger at the vest. “Not now, Hope. Just go.” Go? “What?” “I wanna grab a shower and get the smell off me. We’ll talk later.” Since when does he take a shower without inviting me in? He closes the bathroom door, and I fight the urge to smack it back open with my foot. Throwing the vest on the dresser, I grab my purse and fish out my keys. Then I snatch my cell phone from the nightstand and take off. Wrath calls to me as I fly down the stairs. “Hope! What’s wrong?” People are starting to fill the club, and I want to get to my car before I’m blocked in. A few of the remaining catty bitches who enjoy reminding me they’ve fucked Rock are also here, and I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing Rock and I are having problems. Cast or not, Wrath is still an athlete, and he catches up to me at the door. “Hope. Stop. What’s wrong?” “He told me to go. So I’m going. He doesn’t fucking trust me, and I’m tired of being lied to.” “Fuck, this is all my fault. Don’t leave like this.” I just keep shaking my head, tears clouding my vision. He tries to grab me, but I slip out of his grasp and down to my car. One of the prospects approaches, but I gun the engine and he moves.

When I get to my house, everything is dark. Not one outside light illuminates my lonely yard. The motion sensors must have burned out or something, because nothing comes on when I step out of the garage. With the stupid app Rock installed on my phone, I know he’ll track me down eventually. Until then, I need some fucking space. I flip on the hall light to make sure the power isn’t out. I’m momentarily blinded, so I shut it off. I throw my phone, keys, and purse on the kitchen counter and make my way to the bedroom. Crap. I forgot I’d been in the middle of packing up boxes of Clay’s stuff the last time I was here. I set the boxes on the floor, strip down, and crawl under the covers. My cell phone rings and vibrates, the sound traveling all the way down the hall. So I pull the covers up over my head to drown out the noise.

“Rock! Open the fucking door.” What the fuck is Wrath doing up here? How the hell did he manage all the stairs on those crutches? Rushing into the bedroom with only a towel around my waist, I fling open the door. He’s standing there breathless and sweaty. “What the fuck did you say to her?” “Who?” “Hope, you asshole. She just took off in fucking tears.” A glance at the dresser, and I see she left her vest. Oh, that’s not good. I spin and see her phone and purse are also gone. Fuck. “She’s not going to run to the cops, if that’s what you’re worried about. She thought Sparky and his setup were adorable.” Wrath’s voice is full of menace. “I know that, fucker. I’m more concerned she’s going to wrap herself around a tree when she can’t see where she’s going because she’s crying her eyes out! I can’t drive or I would have gone after her instead of killing myself hopping up here after your sorry ass.” “What did she say?” He pins me with a hard stare. “She said you told her to go.” “I meant downstairs, not leave the house.” “And that you don’t trust her and she’s sick of being lied to. Rock, fix this, man. Stop fucking lying to her.” “I didn’t lie to her.”

“No, you just didn’t tell her, and that ain’t right. Fuck—we ever got raided, they’d scoop her up right along with the rest of us—” Cold twists my gut at the thought. “She’s got nothing to do with it.” “Still take time to sort out, you dick. Tank her career. You got her practically living here. She’s your ol’ lady now. She has a right to know.” “There’s nothing left. She knows everything now.” “Does she?” Okay, I can name a few things she still doesn’t know. “Get out of here so I can get dressed.” I fucking hate that he’s right about something that pertains to my girl. After muttering a few more curses at me, he hops next door to his room. I know I’m to blame for this, and I’m not sure why I reacted the way I did. Maybe because seeing how at ease Hope was with Sparky and the whole operation made me realize I’d been an asshole for hiding shit from her for so long. I don’t give her enough credit. I keep thinking she’s all good girl, when in reality, she has many different facets to her. She’s not a black-and-white kind of person. She lives very much in the gray area right alongside me. We think a lot alike. Protective and loyal to the people we care about. Willing to accept things outside her comfort zone. On the way to her house, all these thoughts flood my brain as I worry about how to fix this. Beyond our relationship, I’m stressed the fuck out because Green Street Crew has been pressing me for larger and larger orders. With Sparky’s sick crop, we won’t be able to meet the demand of both GSC and the new thing I put in place with the Demons. Lost Kings have a reputation of being reliable and having quality product. We can’t afford to fuck that up. Revealing our setup to Hope came at the worst fuckin’ time. It’s creepy dark when I turn onto her road. Her car isn’t in the driveway, so I almost leave. But I know my girl. She’s sneaky. Glancing at my phone, I call up the app that will show me where she is—provided she didn’t stop to chuck her phone in a lake. Nope. Pink blinking heart shows she’s here. I shut off my bike, although she would have heard me coming. I dial her number. Sure enough, I hear my ringtone go off in the kitchen. Fuck, we’ve never gotten around to exchanging keys or anything. We’re almost always together. But it’s not as if I don’t know how to pick a lock. And it’s not like I haven’t been bitching about the shitty security at Hope’s house since the first time I ever paid her a visit. Takes me fifteen seconds to get inside. Another ten to figure out she’s in the bedroom. The bed is lumpy, but there’s no sound. Is she holding her breath? Trying to hide from me like a little kid? The thought makes me smile. I fuckin’ love my girl —even when she’s being a pain in my ass. I shuck my jacket and hang it on the doorknob, then kick off my shoes. “Hope?”

A ragged sniffle drifts out from under the covers. “Baby, what are you doing?” “Choreographing a tap dance.” A sharp crack of laughter leaves me. Okay, she’s seriously pissed. “Can I put the light on?” “No,” she answers in a cranky baby voice that makes my dick hard and my hand itch to spank her fuckin’ ass. That’s fine. Can’t find the fucking switch anyway. Besides, my eyes have adjusted enough that I can just make out the top of her head. I yank my jeans down, kick them off, and drop my shirt on top of them. This is uncharted territory. We’ve never been in her bed together. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asks. I freeze, unsure if she’s asking because she’s mad at me for earlier or because I’m about to crawl into her bed. I choose to use a bit of humor to lighten things up. “You want insects and road grime in your bed?” “Ew, no.” Leaning down, I attempt to throw back the covers, but she wraps herself tighter and rolls away from me. “What are you doing? Get over here.” “I’m not having sex with you. I’m mad at you.” “Who said anything about sex? I don’t want to have sex with you either.” That’s a total fucking lie. I’m so hard I could pound nails, but it’s not my fault. If I'm within ten inches of Hope, my dick is hard. That’s just the way it is. I’m in a permanent state of arousal around her. Using the heel of my hand, I push down my erection, not wanting to jab her with it—yet. “I’ll leave my undies on.” That gets the response I’m looking for—a soft giggle. “Undies,” she snorts. “Some big, bad biker you are.” I grin into the darkness. “Hope?” I tug on the comforter. “Baby, I’m chilly. Won’t you share?” I know she can’t resist my soft, pleading tone. She wriggles and struggles to unwrap herself. The entire time, I’m biting my lip so I don’t laugh. “Here,” she fumes, throwing half the cover at me. Once I arrange it over myself, I dive at her, grappling her squirmy body into my arms. “Shhhh.” I hold her to me, tucking her head under my chin, stroking down her arm, trying to soothe her. “I’m sorry you think I don’t trust you. I do, honey. Remember when I told you I didn’t want the ugliness from my life bleeding into yours? That’s why I’ve been holding back. Not because I don’t trust you.” “It’s a stupid grow house. The way you were acting, I thought you had like a little human sweatshop down there or something.” I huff out a laugh. “Please, Sparky takes enough care and feeding.”

“He’s sweet. I’m guessing he’s very familiar with his products?” She chuckles. I snort at her comment. “Yeah. He’s been a godsend, though. We were neck deep in a lot of shit when he came up with that idea.” “So that’s how the club makes its money?” “Yes.” “Is there a lot of money in that?” I’m not sure why she’s asking, but I answer as truthfully as possible. “Not as much as the shit we used to be into, but it’s a lot safer. Most of the time.” She’s silent. Thinking about what that means, I guess. “I don’t care, you know. I don’t even understand why pot’s illegal but alcohol is okay.” “I know, babe. I’m starting to get that about you.” “Tell me something else I don’t know, Rock.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Her fingers drift over my arm. “I’m not asking for details about club business. I understand why you can’t share some of that with me.” Relief crashes into me. She gets it and that makes it easier to spill the secrets I’ve been keeping. All right. Here goes. “Can you promise to hear me out before you get mad?” She stiffens, but I feel her nod, her silky hair sliding along my shoulder. “I told you when we met I was fucking nuts about you, right?” She snorts like she still thinks I’m full of shit. “Yes.” Fuck, this is embarrassing. “After that kiss in my office, I found out where you lived. I couldn’t stop myself. I used to just sit at the end of the street and watch your driveway, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.” “Rock…” She kisses along my jaw, and the tightening in my chest relents a bit. She’s not mad. She doesn’t think I’m a whack-job stalker. “I did this… a lot. Remember how I told you about our rival, the Vipers?” “Yes.” I take a deep breath before going into this next part. “On one of my ‘stakeouts,’ two of them drove down your street, paying close attention to your house. I knew there was no other reason they were here. Somehow, they’d put together your connection to the club.” “Didn’t they see you sitting there on your bike?” “I… uh, was using the SUV by this point, so no. I don’t know if they used court records to find our connection or if one of the fucks followed me to your house. Either way, I knew your life was in danger. These two—they weren’t normal. We… Fuck, Hope, I don’t want to drag you into this shit any further.” “Just finish the story.” “Fine. I figured if we cut ties in a very public way, it would end their interest in you. Obviously, if you weren’t our lawyer, there was no reason to come after you. And if I was willing to humiliate you in public, I must not have any romantic interest in you.”

“Okay,” she whispers. “You’ll never know how much I hated doing that,” I whisper against her hair. I press a kiss to her forehead and hold her tighter for the next part. “Even though I thought that resolved the immediate problem, the fact that these two knew about you at all didn’t sit well with me. We took a vote to put them down.” “Because of me?” “Yes.” “No wonder Wrath hated me.” “He never hated you.” I pause and think of how best to explain preemptive murder. “You weren’t the only woman they targeted. And even though we’re outlaws… that’s not how we operate. MCs go to war all the time. They don’t target innocent people who have no idea what they’re into. That’s mafia, cartel behavior. They had other people in mind too.” “Glassman?” “Yes. Although, to this day, he thinks it was just a random mugging. And I’d like to keep it that way.” “Uh, it’s not like we’re lawyers who lunch.” For now, I ignore the bit of self-deprecating humor I detect in her comment. “We had to tighten our alliance with our other rival I’ve told you about.” “Wolf Kings?” “Wolf Knights. We’re the only Kings, babe.” Another soft chuckle. I love that laugh so much. “They’re a rival, but we’ve always had a decent relationship with them. We’ve got a similar mindset about certain things, and we share certain business interests. They were more than happy to cooperate.” I pause, remembering my meeting with Ulfric, the anguish in his eyes as he told me about what the Vipers did to his sisterin-law. “I didn’t learn why they were so motivated until later, but that’s not important. We also received the support of some of the Vipers. Most of them— although I disagree with the shit they’re into—follow our code. These other fucks that came in and took over, not so much. We helped them cut out the bad shit.” I stop, remembering what it took to get what I needed out of those fuckers. I’m uncomfortable with the memories when my girl’s so close to me. “It took me a long time to get the information about you that I needed from them.” I’m silent, thinking about what I want to tell her next, when she captures my hand and kisses my fingertips. Maybe she didn’t understand what I’m confessing here. “Hope, do you understand what I’m telling you?” She’s silent for a minute before answering. “Yes.” “Can you live with the things I’ve done, Baby Doll?” “You did all that for me?” “Yes. Remember, I explained you fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us? If someone hurts you, baby, I’ll handle it. I figured that would go against everything you believe in. But I’m not sorry. Those evil fucks posed a threat to you, and I dealt

with it in the most efficient way. Going to the police wouldn’t have helped. I had nothing but a gut feeling to go on. You would have ended up dead or worse. I did what I had to do to keep you from harm. I protect what’s mine, Hope. And whether you knew it or not, you were mine.” Something hot and wet rolls over my chest. “Baby, don’t cry. I’m so sorry I ever put you in danger.” She sniffles. “It’s not that. No one has ever cared about me that way before. You barely even knew me at the time, but you were willing to start a war with these nutjobs to keep me safe? I can’t even comprehend that.” “You were worth it, babe. I felt so fucking guilty that my obsession with you put you in danger.” “Jesus, do you know what it does to me to hear you tell me all of this?” More sniffles. Then silence. “I’m sorry I’m not a good man, Hope.” She sucks in a deep breath. “Don’t ever say that. You’re good to me. Your brothers. To your club. That’s all that matters.” Shit, I’m so fucking stunned I don’t know what to say. After a few seconds, she says, “I know you called my mother when I was in the hospital.” The shift in conversation jolts me. I stiffen. This isn’t something I want to talk about right now because I know it will hurt her. “Yeah.” She sucks in a deep, shuddering breath, but her voice is clear when she asks her next question. “She never came down to see me or called back to check if I was okay, did she?” Now I’m fucking close to crying. “No, honey.” “You stayed. You never left my side the entire time, did you?” “Only when you were in surgery.” “Every one of your brothers came too. Even if it was just to support you, they were there.” “They were there for you too.” She lets out a heavy sigh. “I’ve never belonged or felt a part of a family like that before. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but Clay came from a fucked-up situation too. He and his sister mostly grew up in foster care. And, well, you see what my mother’s like.” She pauses, and I feel her shaking her head against me. “He and I formed our own little insular world together. I mean, you know my few close friends, but otherwise, it was just the two of us. We only really depended on each other.” I’m not sure what to say to that because it sounds lonely. But in a way, it makes me understand her so much better. “I’m happy you two found each other, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry you lost him so young.” “I know.” “You’ve got a family now, full of overprotective, pain-in-the-ass big brothers.”

“And sisters?” “Yeah. Trin’s got her own issues, but she likes you. You two are good for each other. And I’m sure Teller wouldn’t mind some help with Heidi here and there.” “Heh.” Then she turns a little more serious. “What else should I know?” Here’s where I should tell her what happened with Sophie when I escorted Hope to Judge Oak’s fundraiser. How the woman who is supposed to be Hope’s best friend drunkenly hit on me outside the men’s room. But after admitting what a callous bitch her mother was, I don’t want to hurt Hope with yet another person she loves failing her. Instead, I decide to tell her something else. A good thing about Sophie. Hope elbows me in the ribs. “Anything else you’re hiding?” “One last thing.” Her body ripples with laughter. I guess after admitting I’ve killed people to keep her safe, anything else is tame in comparison. “That first night when I ran into you at Hamilton’s… Sophie set that up.” She squeals and thumps my chest, struggling to sit up. “I knew it! I always wondered what the hell you and Z were doing there.” At least she’s not mad. “How?” “She was worried about you. Maybe eight months after the funeral, she came into Crystal Ball with Jonny on one of my nights.” “Ugh! I wondered how you and Jonny knew each other.” She giggles, and I’m happy I was able to take her mind off her rotten mother. “I don’t know. I must have been real obvious that first time we met, ‘cause she honed in on me right away.” “I told her about us.” I chuckle at the memory of Sophie’s fierce expression that night. “Yeah, I got that loud and clear.” Picking up her hand, I press her fingers against my lips, then hold her tight. “Everything after that was all you. I would have taken you home that night if you asked me to. I didn’t have any other plans besides worming myself into your life. Making you my woman.” She kisses my chin. “So now I know everything?” I actually stop and think before answering her because I want to be honest. “I think so.” “Nothing from your run?” “Are you asking if I fucked anyone?” “No. I think it’s clear your mind was on me the whole time you were gone.” As she says that, her hand drifts across my hip and over the spot where her tattoo is. I’m very conscious of and grateful for the trust Hope has in me. Reaching out in the dark, I trace along her collarbone, seeking her necklace. “At least you didn’t take this off. Although, I’m going to paddle your ass for leaving your vest.” “I’m sorry.”

I sigh, long and deep, debating whether or not to tell Hope about Inga’s phone call. “Ah, there’s one thing from the run.” Next to me, she stiffens, and I automatically tug her closer. “Inga called me.” The breath she lets out drifts over my chest. “Oh. How did that go?” I’m amazed at how calm my girl is, all things considered. “Uh, fine. She wanted to apologize. I guess she’s in rehab back home. She’s quitting porn and dancing.” “That’s good. I mean, if she had a problem with it. Hopefully, she’ll figure it out.” Holy fuck, my woman is something else. “You’re not mad?” She pulls back and, in the dark, it’s hard to gauge her reaction. “No. Why would I be mad? I mean, as long as weekly chats with her aren’t going to become a regular thing—no, I’m not mad.” “Thanks.” “What’s wrong, Rock?” It’s almost unnerving how well she knows me. Christ, she won’t want to hear this. I push the words out in a rush. “I feel like a scumbag for never noticing she had a problem.” “You realize this is awkward for me, right?” she says with a laugh. When I hmm at her, she continues. “I didn’t get the impression your relationship was one where you spent a lot of time together when you weren’t, uh, occupied, so why would you have noticed?” Her delicate phrasing pulls a dark chuckle from me. “Yeah, I think that’s also why I’m feeling like shit. I thought I was always clear, but she had this idea, I guess…” “Uh, I can’t speak for Inga, but I don’t think most women can separate sex and emotion, even if they tell themselves they can.” “That doesn’t make me feel any better.” She shrugs. “Too bad.” Yeah, I’ve definitely beat this conversation into the ground. But it felt good to get it off my chest. It’s not really something I would discuss with any of the guys. I lean over and kiss her forehead. “Thanks for listening to that, baby. I’m sure it’s the last thing you felt like hearing.” She pats my chest in response. I can’t believe how kindhearted my girl is. Every other woman I’ve ever known would have used that conversation as an excuse to tear Inga down or bitch me out. Not Hope. I’m a lucky fuck. Incessant buzzing reaches me from the floor. “My phone, babe.” “Go ahead.” Crawling out of the bed, I dig around ‘til I find my jeans and dump my cell phone into my hand. “It’s Wrath. He was worried about you,” I explain. “What?” I snap into the phone as I settle back into the bed. I hold the phone away from my ear so Hope can hear him. “Where are you, dick?”

“At Hope’s.” He blows out a relieved breath. “She okay?” “Yes.” “Are you guys okay?” Next to me, Hope sighs, “Awww.” I run my hand over her hair. “Yeah, we’re good.” “Are you coming back up tonight?” I glance at Hope and quirk my eyebrow. I’m leaving it up to her. “Yeah, we’ll be up in a little while,” she answers. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, are you going to turn into one of those annoying couples who answers every phone call together?” Wrath bitches. “Bye, Wrath.” Hope grabs my phone and ends the call for me. Eventually, she rolls over and clicks on a light. Blinking from the glare, I don’t see the room right away. But when things finally come into focus, I’m shocked. “You’ve been packing?” A nervous smile flickers over her lips. “Well, we talked about moving in together… and I just thought it was time to get rid of some things. It’s harder than I thought, though.” Her hands flutter in the air as she’s talking. Even flustered and rumpled, she’s effortlessly beautiful. My eyes zero in on her slender fingers and notice how naked her ring finger looks.

CHAPTER NINE

E xquisite Baubles isn’t used to having bikers in their delicate, prissy store. The

unease rolling off the sales guy doesn’t concern me, though. I’m here to get my girl an engagement ring. This place is supposed to have the best jewelry designer in the area. My girl’s getting nothing less than the best. So I put up with the attitude. For now. Unfolding the drawing Bricks sketched out for me, I lay it out on the crystalclear glass counter. “Can you do it or not?” The sales guy’s eyes bug out. “Let me get Arthur.” Arthur reminds me a bit of Sparky. Not that he’s high, but he clearly doesn’t like being taken away from his precious stones and metals. He picks up the drawing and studies it. “The top here, this is the engagement ring?” Ah, he gets it. “Yes.” “Clever. Very fitting for a queen.” Right. Essentially, Hope’s my queen, and I want something that reflects that without being gaudy or obnoxious. Arthur doesn’t care about the patches on my cut, my inked skin, my greasestained jeans, or anything else. He swings the counter door open and beckons me inside. “Come.” I follow him into a small room where he starts tapping information into a computer. He scans in the drawing, does some more tapping, and then hands me a printout. He’s made a few changes, but since they only enhance the design, I nod. “It’s intricate work, so it will take me some time.” That’s not what I want to hear. “I need it as soon as possible.” Arthur studies me for a moment. “How long have you known her?” “Almost three years.” “When did you know she was the one?” “The day I met her. It’s been a long, hard, twisted road to get here.” Arthur nods. He scribbles down a number on the top of the page. “Leave a fifty

percent deposit with Kenny up front. I’ll start working on it today, but it could be a couple weeks. I must order a few things to complete it, and I have no control over my suppliers.” I certainly understand that. “Leave a number where I can reach you.” The amount isn’t as high as I expected, so I’m prepared to pay in full today. I count out the bills for Kenny, whose eyes are big and much more pleasant than earlier. Arthur wanders back out to see how we’re doing. He nods at the pile of cash. “I need it soon. But it needs to be perfect. You feel me, Arthur?” “Yes, sir.” “Good.” We quickly shake on the deal, and I head out. As soon as I get back to the clubhouse, I tuck the drawing and receipt into my locked cabinet in the war room. Not that I think Hope has ever snooped through my stuff upstairs. But it would be the worst possible timing if she decided to get curious now and ruin my surprise. Since I gave her the property patch, I don’t think she expects anything else. Everyone has explained that in our world, it’s as good as a ring. Even though I swore I would never get married again, that was before I knew Hope. Although it’s a big fucking deal to me, the property patch isn’t enough. I need to own her in every single way available. It doesn’t escape my notice how I never offered my first wife a property patch. She got the ring, nothing more. Hope will have everything. It’s going to be torture waitin’ for that ring to be done. While I’m waiting, there’s other things I need to get in place. I think I know the exact way I want to propose to her. I want it to be perfect. Didn’t give it a lot of thought the first time, but I am now. I’m not sure why I’m dwelling on my failed marriage. It was a lifetime ago. I was a kid who had no fucking clue. What if I’d met Hope back then? She would have been eighteen, right before she met Clay. Would stupid twenty-three-year-old me have recognized what a treasure she was? Would she have had the strength back then to stand by me when I went to prison? Would we have survived all the bullshit the club went through when Wrath, Z, and I took over? I don’t know the answers to any of these pointless questions. All I do know is we’re right where we should be. The rest is irrelevant.

“Hey, feel like going for a hike in the woods?” Rock asks out of the blue one afternoon. We’ve been spending more time up at the clubhouse lately. Well, actually for a week or so, we were snowed in. Since the courts never seem to close—even for piles of snow—I had to ask Adam to cover the few cases I had. That certainly set me back a bit, but it doesn’t bother me like it might have a couple months ago. Maybe there’s something wrong with me, but I’m very content right where I am. I can’t say it wasn’t amusing to watch Z and Hoot try to keep up with all the snow we got pummeled with either. Since the big nor’easter, it’s been cold but sunny, melting away a lot of the snow. Glancing up, I crane my neck to see out the window and shiver. “No. It’s freakin’ cold out,” I finally answer Rock’s question. “Babe, it’s supposed to be in the forties today.” “Yeah. Cold.” Taking a closer look at Rock, I can tell he’s frustrated. “Okay. I didn’t bring any hiking boots up with me, though.” His mouth pops into a grin as he strides over to his closet. When he comes out, he’s carrying a large box, which he sets at the end of my lounge chair. My eyes skip from the box to his face. “You bought me hiking boots?” “Yup.” Odd, but sweet. Even stranger, he presents me with a thick pair of woolly socks. Sensing he’s up to something, I keep an eye on him while I get ready. Once we’re properly bundled up, we trudge through the light layer of snow that’s more crunchy than powdery this late in the winter. Rock stops near a scattering of pine trees that looks very familiar. “It’s a little cold for sex in the woods, Rock.” He snorts, and we tread a bit farther before he stops again. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be seeing, but a large area has been marked off with pink surveyor tape. A very large area. “What do you think?” “What am I looking at?” “Building site. Our building site. I want to build us a house here.” I suck in a deep breath and immediately start choking on the cold air. Rock chuckles and pats my back. “Careful, Baby Doll.” “I love it,” I finally manage.

Some of the tension he’d been carrying on the way up here drains out of him. “Good. We’ve got a few months before we can begin, so there’s plenty of time to figure out what we want.” “Okay.” “We’ll have to spend more time at the clubhouse until it’s finished.” I cock my head to the side, inviting him to explain. “I’m thinking of renting my house to Bricks and Winter. Give them a chance to save up and buy it in a couple years. Got the fenced-in yard and enough bedrooms for their kids. Plus, it’s in the same school district Bricks’s kids are in, so it should make things easier on him.” Inside, I melt at how much thought Rock’s put into this. “Where are you going to work on your bikes?” “The club owns that vacant piece of property next to Crystal Ball. I’m thinkin’ of opening a shop there eventually. But for now, I’ll keep doing it out of my garage. Gonna have Bricks help with the more elaborate paint jobs.” “That sounds great.” “So do you like this spot? We can pick out another one if you want. Got more than enough land.” Taking in the view, I picture what it would be like to live out here. It’s peaceful, and if I ever get bored, the clubhouse is a short— Next to me, Rock is suddenly on one knee. And my hand is in his hand. “Rock?” “Hope, I waited a long time for you. I fall more in love with your beauty, kindness, loyalty, and courage every day. When we spend our first night in the house we’re going to build here, I want you to be my wife.” Holy shit. When he explained the property patch meant wife status in his world, I figured that was his way of telling me he didn’t want to get married again. Yet here he is—holy shit! “Rock—” “Babe, the only word I want to hear is yes.” “Yes! Of course, yes!” He drops his gaze to the ground and lets out a barely audible sigh. I can’t stop the tears rolling down my cheeks as he places the most beautiful ring on my finger. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. The intricate setting looks like a small crown, showcased by a diamond-encrusted interwoven band. The stones sparkle and dance in the sunlight streaming through the trees as I hold out my hand and wiggle my fingers. Lifting himself from the ground, he sweeps me into his arms and seals his mouth over mine for a burning kiss. When we part, I’m dizzy, and one thought dominates. “Rock, please let me say something.” His eyes narrow, but he nods. “You remember the doctor told me I might not be able to have children. If I can’t

give you a family, are you going to end up hating me?” Confusion that morphs into anger settles over his face. “Hope, listen carefully to me. If my sole goal in life was to reproduce, I could have done it a hundred times over by now.” “That’s not as romantic as you think.” He shakes off my attempt at a joke. “I love you. All I need is you. We are perfect together. We’ll figure this out like we’ve figured out everything else. Together. You want kids, we’ll figure it out. I hear science is pretty amazing these days. You don’t want kids, I’m perfectly content with it just being the two of us for the rest of our lives. You are more important to me than any potential future children.” He gestures back the way we came, toward the clubhouse. “Besides, we already have a houseful of kids to look after.” A very unladylike sound erupts from me, somewhere between a snort and a sob. In my wildest fantasies, I never could have come up with a man like Rock. The thought and care he put into proposing astounds me. His words. The beautiful ring that he undoubtedly had specially designed. Every detail. I can’t even— His fingers settle under my chin, tipping up my head, interrupting my thoughts. “Are we clear on this?” Sinking my teeth into my bottom lip, I nod my head. How did I get so lucky? “Don’t make that face at me, Hope. Even though it’s so cold my balls have crawled back up inside my body, I could pin you to that tree and fuck you senseless right about now.” “That is some lovely imagery, Rochlan,” I manage before falling into a fit of giggles. We’re engaged.

The hike back to the clubhouse is really more of a sprint. Hope wasn’t kidding when she said it was too cold for sex in the woods. The thought of it shrivels my dick. But the thought of getting her alone in our room and stripping her down ‘til she’s wearing nothing but my ring keeps my feet moving over the rough ground. Her excited yes plays over and over in my head. Breathless, we tumble into the parking area around the clubhouse. Hope’s giggles twist my own mouth up. Snagging her around the waist, I tug her against me for a kiss. Breaking away, she runs her hands through my hair, staring up at me. The smile’s gone, but there’s a gleam of mischief in her eyes that’s hard to miss.

“When do you want to get married?” she asks. Right this second. “Whenever you want,” I answer. “Where?” That one’s easier, because as long as Hope’s at the end of the aisle, I don’t give two fucks where we do it. “Anywhere you want.” Her fingers lace behind my neck, but her gaze drifts around the woods behind us. “How about here? I like the idea of getting married outside, close to nature,” she says with a dreamy tilt to her lips. That’s fine with me. I even know the perfect spot on the property. But as seamlessly as my girl has accepted everything about me and my world, I wonder if she knows what she’s asking. “Babe, you sure you want your family and friends at a white-trash biker-hillbilly wedding in the woods?” Pain slashes across her face, and too late, I realize what an awful thing that was to say to her. Her arms tighten around my neck, forcing me down to her level. “You are my family.” She jerks her head toward the clubhouse. “You and your club of delinquent, loyal biker brothers are my family. Anyone who doesn’t like it isn’t invited.” My heart is racing so hard. I want to drop down on my knees and ask her to marry me all over again. “I love you.” Her fierce face softens. “I love you, too.” “Aww, hey, lovebirds, where ya been?” Trinity calls out from somewhere behind us. Hope spins out of my embrace, dropping me like a hot muffler, and races over the gravel. “We’re engaged,” she shouts, flashing her hand in the air. Trinity bounces on her toes and claps her hands. When Hope reaches her, the two of them hug, and my chest tightens seeing how close they’ve gotten. “Lemme see!” Trinity gasps. I watch them ooh and ah over the ring. Even from here, I can see Trinity going into party-planning mode. I give them a few minutes of giggling together before I head their way. Trinity glances up as I approach. Taking in her glossy eyes, I hesitate. She gives Hope’s hand a quick squeeze, then throws her arms around me. “I’m so happy for you, Rock-n-Roll.” Chuckling into her hair, I return the hug. “Thanks, sweetheart.” “What’s going on out here?” Wrath questions from the doorway. My gaze flicks to his placid expression, and for a number of reasons, I wonder how he’ll take it. I can see Trinity’s dying to spill our news, but she waits. Hope flashes her hand at my brother. “We’re getting married.” “Holy fuck.” He glances at the snow-covered ground separating us from him then down at his cast. “Get the fuck over here,” he says with an irritated wave of

his hand. She runs up the stairs while Trinity and I hang back for a second. Wrath surprises the fuck out of me by taking her hand and checking out the ring while Hope excitedly chatters away. Then he outright floors me by kissing her forehead and whispering something in her ear that makes her grin. “And that’s enough of that,” I grumble. Beside me, Trinity breaks into laughter.

The first thing I do when we get inside is send a text to Sophie, Lilly, and Mara, sharing my good news. My phone vibrates in my hand instantly. Lilly. It’s hard to understand her through all the screaming. “You did not just tell me you’re engaged via a group text!” she shouts. “I did.” My phone beeps. Mara. “I’m so happy for you, sweetheart,” she says softly. “We need to get together Friday so you can celebrate with your girls. And I need to see Rock’s rock.” She giggles into the phone. “Hamilton’s?” The place where Sophie orchestrated Rock and me getting together? Yeah, that seems appropriate to celebrate our engagement. I don’t hear back from Sophie until later in the evening. “Hope! I’m sorry. I’ve been crazy all day. Congratulations! I’m really happy for you guys.” I recount to her in detail how Rock proposed. “That’s so sweet, Hope. Who knew such a scary guy could be so romantic?” she teases. At least I think she’s teasing. It’s hard to tell over the phone. The memory of Rock admitting to me how Sophie arranged our first night together still astounds me. “Hey, Sophie, Rock told me.” Over the line, her sharp intake of breath is clear. “What are you talking about?” Her tone makes me laugh. “How you set us up to meet at Hamilton’s.” Warmth spreads through my chest as I think how important that night turned out to be. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you enough,” I say quietly. “You’re welcome, buttercup. I’m happy for you. You deserve good things, Hope.”

“Thanks, Sophie.” We make our plans for Friday night and hang up. Trinity is surprisingly excited when I ask her to join us. On Friday night, we take her Jeep into Empire, even though Rock mentions something about picking us up later. After I shrug off my wool coat, the girls all giggle. I quirk an eyebrow at the trio, inviting them to explain what’s so funny. “You look like a slutty Hello Kitty,” Lilly says with a snicker. Running my hands over the material of my dress and looking down, I shrug. “What? I think it’s cute.” “Oh, it’s adorable,” Sophie chimes in. “Lilly’s just jealous because her boobs would never fit in it.” “True story.” Lilly giggles. “I like it too,” Mara says, reaching over to give me a quick hug. I love this dress. Yes, it’s a little close to the bubblegum end of the pink spectrum, but it’s got long sleeves and a cute fit and flare skirt. I paired it with thick, wooly gray tights and gray patent leather Mary Janes. Rock made growly noises when I modeled it for him, something Trinity witnessed. And by the wink she gives me, I know she’s about to spill to my friends. “Her man almost didn’t let her out of the house when he saw her tonight. You’re lucky I got her down here.” Lilly and Sophie, of course, laugh it up. “Seems like a good time to hand you this, then,” Mara says, picking up a shiny pink gift bag from the floor. Pinning each of them with a look, I joke, “I’m scared to open it.” My apprehension was justified. “Oh my God!” Inside are three books—one his and one hers Guide to Going Down and 365 Sexual Positions to Try with Your Man Tonight complete with graphic descriptions and illustrations. I’m laughing too much to maintain my stern expression. “Really? Have I given any of you the impression we need help in that department?” Trinity laughs so hard she almost falls out of her chair. It’s nice to see her a little more lighthearted, so I’m not insulted. “There’s more,” Mara says as she flails her hands in the air with excitement. One by one, I pull increasingly kinky items out of the innocent pink bag— candles, massage oil, warming lube, a tiny pink butterfly vibrator, a coil of pink silk rope… and a paddle. “What the…?” I glance up, my gaze roaming over each of the girls, finally landing on Mara. More laughter and a few snorts escape from Trinity. Mara apparently doesn’t possess an ounce of shame. She shrugs. “You never know.” “God, you’re a horny bunch of bitches.” I sigh and set the bag down next to me. It’s something so out of character for me to say that they all laugh. So loud we

get stares from everyone in the bar. “Calm down. Jeez, we haven’t even had any alcohol yet,” I scold in my best courtroom voice. That’s all the prodding Lilly needs to jump up and stride over to the bar. We watch her flirt for a while and take bets on whether she’ll go home with one of the cute bartenders. Sophie grabs my attention. “Are you going to take your time planning this one?” She waves her hand in the air, almost smacking Lilly, who has returned with a smug smile. “You and your mother threw the last one together so quick, we all thought you were pregnant.” I suck in air, gasping as the pain hits me right in the chest. Lilly, Mara, and Trinity all gape at Sophie. “Fuck, honey. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean… I forgot. Shit, it just happened, and wow, I’m sorry.” She didn’t know. She didn’t know. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, I take a few rapid, cleansing breaths to push away the tears and paste on a fake smile. “It’s fine. We did plan it quick. But we’d been together forever by then. It was time.” Everyone relaxes, except Trinity, who’s still giving Sophie some serious stink eye. “So have you had any ideas about the wedding yet?” Sophie finally asks. “I don’t know. Something informal and fun. Outdoors.” Sophie nods. “That makes sense since the last one was so over-the-top.” What the hell has gotten into Sophie? Lilly and Mara also seem surprised. Trinity glances at Lilly. “So, Lilly, are those knockers real?” Well, that’s certainly one way to take the focus off me. Lilly’s a good sport. And used to this question. She flashes a sexy smile at Trinity. “Yes. I expect in another couple years, they’ll be hanging out by my belly button.” Wrong time to sip my water. I cough and sputter while Mara pats me on the back. “Lilly stripped her way through college and grad school,” Sophie adds. Trinity nods as if she’s not surprised, which makes Lilly narrow her eyes. “Nothing wrong with that.” “Your MC owns a strip club. Why don’t you dance, Trinity?” Lilly asks. Trinity toys with her drink. “I’m getting a little old for that. Besides, Rock’s never liked the two things mixing.” We’re approaching awkward territory again. Thankfully, we’re interrupted by Adam and Ross coming in the front door. Since our table is to the immediate right, they spot us before they’re even inside. I scoot out of my chair, and Adam scoops me into a hug, lifting me off the ground a little. “You bitch. Why didn’t you tell me? I had to find out from these nuts?”

My shoulders twitch. “I didn’t think about it. It’s all been a little crazy. I’m sorry.” He shakes his head at me and goes to the bar. Ross squeezes me next. “Let me see it.” Holding out my hand, I wiggle my fingers and enjoy how the light bounces and sparkles off the beautiful ring. I’m still stunned by all the effort Rock put into everything. He doesn’t do anything half-assed. “Wow. I’ve never seen anything like it. Very regal.” Ross gushes. “Uh, not that I spend lots of time shopping for engagement rings.” The corners of my mouth twitch. “Of course not.” He gives me a playful shove, and I sit back down. The guys drag chairs over to join us. Pitchers of margaritas show up, and we make quick work of them before more pitchers of margaritas show up. Our conversation turns loud and filthy. Around ten, the bar is packed. The front door swings open and cool air sweeps over my flushed cheeks. Rock steps in. I drag my gaze up, sort of in slow motion, taking in all of him. Boots to jeans to gloves and leather jacket. His serious expression undergoes a complete transformation as our gazes collide. I shove out of my chair so fast it almost tips over. Because I’m hammered and have been sitting for so long, I trip. Oh hell, let’s face it. The man still makes me swoon. But Rock’s right there to catch me. “Careful, Baby Doll,” he warns in his low voice. Throwing my arms around his neck, I bury my nose in his jacket, absorbing the brisk, wintery scent he brought in with him. “What are you doing here?” I murmur against his neck. His arms wrap around me tighter. “Missed my girl. Told you I’d come by.” Behind us, my friends whip out some wild catcalls and other assorted noises that make Rock rumble with laughter. After another squeeze, he releases me. Keeping an arm around my waist, he leads me back to my chair. I’d been so caught up in my man I didn’t realize Z had walked right in behind Rock. He winks at me when I finally spot him. “Hey, sugar.” He’s standing by Trinity and gives her a quick poke in the shoulder. “Your roommate’s waitin’ outside.” Trinity rolls her eyes but doesn’t get up. Adam and Ross both stand and shake Rock’s hand, congratulating him—well, us —on our engagement. After a few minutes of small talk, I glance up in time to observe Lilly and Z staring each other down. Since she’s kind of in the middle, Trinity jumps up and gives Z her seat. Her face twists into a gaggy eye roll, which makes me snort with laughter. More chairs are pulled over to the table, and Trinity drags one next to me. “Wait, is Wrath waiting outside?” I finally ask. Z shrugs. “He’s not comin’ in here.” “Damon’s on his way to pick me up,” Mara says as she glances up from her

phone. “Okay.” Rock plants a kiss on the top of my head. “Be right back.” I turn so my gaze can follow Rock as he strides up to the bar. Something so simple still turns me on. Every move he makes is confident and sexy. All mine. “Damn, girl, calm down,” Ross teases, breaking my attention. Shaking myself, I turn to him. “What?” “Jesus, I’m horny just from watching the two of you,” he jokes. Mara bursts out laughing. “You’re such a pervert.” Ross waggles his eyebrows at her. Z laughs. “Try living in a room next to the two of them. Non-fucking-stop.” Ross nods knowingly. “Nonstop fucking, I get it.” My cheeks explode with heat. “We do not.” “Sure. Whatever you say, sugar.” Z flashes a quick smirk at me before turning his attention back to Lilly. Rock returns, standing behind me, settling his hands on my shoulders. I tip up my head, bumping him in the groin. “Sorry,” I mumble. He smiles down at me, absently rubbing my shoulders. My head drops forward, and Rock’s body ripples with laughter. “How much did she have to drink?” he asks. I open my eyes and watch Mara pinch her thumb and index finger together. “Lil’ bit,” she answers. Ross vacates his chair and motions for Rock to take it. After pulling the chair closer to me, he drops into it and curls his arm over my shoulder. My body automatically leans into him. “Tired, Baby Doll?” he asks. “No.” “Don’t forget to show Rock your presents, Hope,” Sophie says. I straighten up, and Rock’s arm slides down my back, where he rests his hand against my hip. “Shut up.” Mara breaks into giggles. My lips twist into a pout, and I turn to find Rock staring at me with curiosity. “What?” he asks. “You don’t want to know.” Mara, ever so helpful, snatches the bag off the floor and passes it to Rock behind my back. My hand shoots out, reaching for the bag, but my balance is off and I miss. Glowering at Mara and Sophie, I slump back and fold my arms across my chest. There’s a moment or two where I’m floating, and I realize I’ve closed my eyes again. From the end of the table, I hear Z and Lilly chuckle. Rock’s sharp laughter fills the air. “Nice.” More paper rustling. Some hummy noises of approval. “Hope doesn’t need any help in this department,” he remarks.

“Thanks, baby,” I say, opening one eye to find him staring at me. He raises an eyebrow and pulls out the paddle. “Now what am I supposed to do with this?” “Bend over?” I suggest helpfully, which gets a laugh from everyone at the table, even Rock. “Aw, Christ, I’m gonna need to buy earplugs, aren’t I?” Z moans. Rock reaches over and gives him a friendly punch. Turning to the girls, Rock’s lips curl into a smile. “Thanks, ladies. I’ll put everything to good use.” “Jeez,” I mutter. Rock turns my way. “You ready to go, doll, or do you want to stay?” Taking in my drunk friends, I shake my head. It’s barely eleven o’clock. When did we get so old? “We can go. Damon’s on his way to pick up Mara.” He nods at Mara. “We’ll wait with you.” Sophie jumps up. “I gotta grab the bill.” Rock shakes his head but doesn’t look at her. “All taken care of.” “Thank you, Rock,” Lilly coos. His mouth turns up. “Anytime.” Rock steadies me as I stand and helps me into my coat. Trinity grabs her jacket and pushes out the door first. Rock, Mara, and I follow. Wrath’s leaning on Trinity’s Jeep, facing the bar. I assumed he’d be annoyed with waiting outside, but he gives Trinity a broad smile as she approaches. “You could have joined us,” I call out to him. His head snaps up. “Nah, I’m good, Cinderella.” Mara giggles at the nickname. “Oh, Mara, this is… Wrath. Wrath, Mara.” Wow, this is weird. He nods at her, and she sort of finger waves back. “I’ve heard lots about you.” Wrath grins at me. “I bet.” “None of it good,” she clarifies with a chuckle. That only makes his devilish smile bigger. “Jerk,” I grumble. Trinity loops her arm through mine and chuckles. Wrath’s eyebrows lift, but she ignores him. I could get whiplash from these two. Adam and Ross step out of the bar and join us on the sidewalk. “What the hell are Sophie and Lilly doing?” Mara snaps at them. Ross snickers. “Trying to figure out who’s giving who a ride.” He turns to Rock. “I think they’re gonna fight over your boy.” Rock snorts and shakes his head. Against me, Trinity shakes with laughter. “Great,” I mutter. I’m sure Sophie is enjoying being the third wheel there. Adam and Rock step away to talk. “Goddamn,” Ross whispers near my ear when he finally notices Wrath. “Please tell me this one is gay?”

Trinity doubles over so fast she almost knocks me over. She’s laughing so hard she starts coughing. Wrath narrows his eyes at me. “How much did she have to drink?” I shrug. “Nothing that I saw,” I say, pretending I don’t know why she’s having a hysterical fit. I’m not sure how he’ll receive Ross’s “compliment.” Ross leans over. “That’s a no, isn’t it?” “Yes.” He shakes his head. “What a shame.” We’re saved from this by Z, Lilly, and an irritated Sophie joining us on the sidewalk. Wrath tips his chin up at Z. “What up, brother?” “Gonna drive the girls home.” Lilly opens her mouth to protest, and Z glares at her. “Neither of you are in any shape to drive.” Can’t argue with that. Damon pulls into a spot across the street from us. He waves as he gets out. It takes a minute as he pulls baby Cora out of her car seat and carries her across the street to us. Mara immediately runs to them. Damon pulls her close for a kiss, and Cora lets out a happy squeal when she sees her mom. My breath catches as I watch them interact. Heart hammering, I turn away for a second. Then Rock’s arms wrap around me, solid and comforting, holding me against him. He doesn’t say anything, just rests his chin atop my head. Mara grins at us. Keeping one arm around me, Rock extends his hand to Damon. Damon takes everyone in, and I’m too out of it to make any introductions. With the force of a whip crack, I realize how awkward this whole situation is. Lawyers, one judge, and a few outlaw bikers all just mingling on the sidewalk together like it’s no big deal. This is what our wedding will be like… but worse.

Hope’s unease is obvious to me right away. In my own clumsy way, I tried to explain this to her when I proposed. As president, it’s my job to be the public face of the MC when I need to be. So I’m used to mixing with lots of different members of society, whether I enjoy it or not. Wrath, on the other hand, doesn’t have a lot of use for people not associated with our club or with fighting. I can see him twitching from here. It probably doesn’t help that Trinity’s been refusing to acknowledge him since we stepped

outside. Z’s only concern is burying his face in Lilly’s tits as soon as possible. That much is clear. My only concern is getting to the clubhouse, taking Hope upstairs, and using the gifts the girls gave her. Then I take a better look at my girl. Her gaze is fixed on Mara holding her baby and talking to her softly. Glassy eyes signal she’s about to cry. I hug her to me tighter and kiss her cheek. “Love you, doll,” I whisper in her ear. She twists away from Mara, wrapping her arms around my waist, and sniffles softly. Yeah, definitely time to get her home. “Good seeing you again, Damon.” I shake hands with Ross and Adam, say our good-byes, and push Hope into my car. Turning around, I catch sight of Wrath snagging Trinity into his hold, and I shake my head. “Trin,” I call out, and both their heads turn my way. “You okay to drive?” “Yeah, I only had water.” Z’s already halfway down the street with Lilly and Sophie. Buddha help the poor bastard. With the women, brothers, and vehicles accounted for, I get into the car with Hope. “Did you have fun?” “Yeah,” she answers softly. I can tell something’s bothering her. “That’s good. You hadn’t seen the girls in a while.” “True.” Firing up the engine, I shift into drive and point us toward the highway. Even though I know she’s tipsy, I want her to keep talking to me. I hate how down she seems. After a night out with her friends, I expected her to be bubbling over with stories for me. An unpleasant thought occurs to me. “Did Sophie behave?” I ask in a teasing way. Her head snaps up. “I don’t know what was up with her. She was a little weird tonight.” That’s not good. “Sorry.” “Poor Z’s going to have his hands full with the both of them,” she says with a snort. “I’m sure he’ll manage.” She’s quiet after that. I realize she’s drifted to sleep and click the radio on low. Kind of reminds me of the first time she spent the night at the clubhouse. I glance over at her and smile with satisfaction at the way my ring looks on her finger. She doesn’t stir when I park the car or when I open her door. Shaking my head, I extract her from the seatbelt and gather her into my arms. Trinity and Wrath pull up just as I’m realizing I can’t juggle Hope and get the front door open.

Wrath snickers. “It’s sad that you gotta keep druggin’ your girl to get her up here.” “Fuck you.” But I’m laughing as I say it. “Grab her stuff for me?” I ask, nodding at my car. Trinity gets the door for me and they follow me inside. “Nice pink bag,” she teases Wrath, who grins. “What the hell’s in it? It’s heavy.” Trinity starts giggling. “Books and sex toys.” Wrath looks at me and raises an eyebrow. “Her friends’ idea of an engagement present,” I explain. Of course, he digs through it and starts laughing his ass off. “Give me that,” Trinity says, snatching Hope’s things out of his hands. “I’ll go drop this in front of your door, prez.” Wrath watches her run up the stairs. Hope stirs and blinks up at me. “Where are we?” Home. “Clubhouse, doll. Can I set you down?” She tosses her head side to side like she just realized she’s midair and giggles. “Yeah.” “Have a nice nap?” Wrath asks. “I guess.” Wrath’s got that expression on his face that I know means trouble. “So a paddle —that for you or him?” he asks, nodding at me. Her cheeks turn pink. “Neither! Mara’s idea of a joke.” “Sure, whatever you say, Cinderella.” “There’s a guy’s guide for going down on his girl. You can have that since Rock doesn’t need it.” Yeah, Hope’s definitely drunk. Wrath throws his head back, laughing. “Trust me, neither do I,” he manages. Trinity appears at the top of the stairs, and Wrath calls up to her, “Right, babe?” She waits until she’s downstairs with us before answering. “What am I agreeing to?” “All right, doll, time for bed,” I say, curling my arm around Hope’s waist. She follows but calls out to Trinity. “I offered him the guide to going down.” Trinity giggles. “No. He doesn’t need it.” Jesus Christ. “Leave it for Murphy. Brother needs all the help he can get,” Wrath calls out as I drag Hope up the stairs while she yells, “Ewwww!” all the way. “No more liquor for you, lightweight,” I tease as I guide her inside my bedroom.

A sensual tingling down below pulls me from sleep. My arms stretch over my head as a shudder works over my body. Rough hands skim under my tank top, palming my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples. My lips part, and I moan. Blinking my eyes open, I find Rock’s face inches from mine. “Morning, Baby Doll,” he greets in his sexy rasp. I can’t stop myself from reaching out to trace my fingers over his cheek, prickly with morning stubble. He turns and presses kisses to my fingertips. “Morning.” His hands continue pushing up my tank top until my only choice is to sit up and fling it on the floor. “Ready to come for me?” “How long have you been up?” He glances down the length of our bodies, and my eyes are immediately drawn to his thick erection. “Long time,” he answers with a filthy grin. “Oh yeah?” He lowers himself over me. “Mm-hmm.” His lips find mine, soft at first, then insistent, until I open for him. All his pent-up need comes through in each kiss, lick, and stroke of his tongue against mine. He nips his way down my neck, leaving a wet trail. Dipping his head lower, he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, and I gasp. Always thorough, Rock pays equal attention to both breasts. Soft, sucking pressure zings straight to my clit. “Please,” I beg. I’m not even sure what I’m asking for. “What do you need?” “You.” “Good. Been thinking about your little bag of presents all night.” “Oh, geez.” I roll to the side, but he catches me around the middle, pinning me where he wants me. Rock is multitalented. He manages to hold me down while working my shorts off. Of course, I offer assistance and kick them off my legs. “Much better,” he murmurs. Wriggling my hands free, I run them all over his back and shoulders. “I love how you feel,” I whisper. Against my face, Rock grins. “Feeling’s mutual.” He touches his forehead to mine. “I need inside you so bad. I’ve been half hard all night.” “You’re never half anything,” I tease. “You should have woken me up,” I add. He shifts, and it’s difficult to describe how excruciatingly perfect he feels against me. Skin on skin, the firm weight of his big body pressing into mine. A delicious shiver of anticipation flutters over my skin. His lips press against my

cheek, trailing against my neck, and I sigh. His body shifts again, but I’m too excited to bother to see what he’s doing. I assume he’s searching for a condom. Instead, he reaches between us, caressing, then flicking his fingers over my clit, massaging, rubbing—driving me nuts. “Rock, that’s not… I’m ready,” I beg. He sort of chuckles against my hair, and I’m still not smart enough to figure out he’s up to something. The sharp tingling between my legs intensifies. “What the—” More chuckling. “Warming lube,” he answers. “You, ahhhh, you better fuck me—now.” He has the nerve to laugh harder and take his time reaching for a condom. Underneath him, I struggle and wriggle, trying to get some sort of relief. He pauses to stroke my hair, which would be sweet if I didn’t need him to stroke somewhere else instead. Preferably with his cock. My heels dig into the mattress, legs spreading wider, hips arching, anything to get what I need. “Fuck, you’re pretty when you’re desperate,” he whispers as he sinks into me. The insistent throbbing between my legs isn’t satisfied, though. “Rock,” I plead. “Hold on.” I arch, grinding up against him in time to his furious thrusts. The drag and friction of his cock sends shooting sparks of pleasure up my spine. I roll my hips, but after a while, his movements turn wild and unhinged. His forearms planted beside my head hold him up, keeping me caged in. His thumbs stroke over my cheeks. Then his mouth captures mine in a kiss that’s almost tender despite the intensity of his thrusting. Heat shivers over my chest, down my legs. Finally, I’m ready to tip over that glorious edge I’ve been seeking. My back arches, my hard nipples pressing against him. A sharp moan tears from my throat. My body jerks in violent waves of pleasure. I’m panting, trying to catch my breath, when Rock’s arms scoop underneath me, twisting us until I’m on top. “I love watching you come more than anything.” My skin blazes at his words. “Yeah?” He rubs his thumb over my cheek. “You’re always so shy, reserved, and in your own head. I like seeing you let go. Knowing I made you do it.” I plant my hands on his chest and sit up a little. My hips circle and I grind myself down hard. “We’re not done, are we?” “Fuck, no,” he groans as I slowly keep working myself up and down. His bottom lip rolls inward and he bites down. Sexiest face ever. That stormgray gaze clings to mine while I ride him. He lets me tease him and please myself. Lets me think I’m in control while I’m on top. After another orgasm burns through me, he shows me who’s actually in charge. Strong fingers dig into my hips, holding me in place, while his hips snap up. I lean back, bracing my hands on his thighs. Beneath me, he tenses and lets out a

deep, grunting shout of pleasure. I’m done. I give him a second, then drape myself over him, kissing his neck and shoulder while he groans into my hair. His hands lift my hips, setting me next to him gently. Chest still heaving, he rolls to the side for a second, then returns, tucking me tight against him. My hands drift down against the hard bricks of his abs, stopping to tickle his hip where the anchor tattoo with my name rests. His breathing slows, and he presses a kiss to my cheek. “Wanna go back to sleep, baby?” “No. This is nice.” His hand roams up and down my back, stopping to squeeze my ass every now and then. As far as I’m concerned, nothing outside this room matters.

Finally asking Hope to be my wife has lifted a weight off my shoulders. She still flashes me a dazed smile every time she glances at her ring. I’m pretty thunderstruck myself, although I’m making an effort to keep it under wraps. My brothers, of course, see right through my bullshit act. “Pick out your flower arrangements yet?” Wrath asks with a wiseass smile. “Aw, now don’t be jealous, dickhead. I’m sure Hope will ask you to be a bridesmaid.” On my other side, Z snickers like an ass. Wrath brushes off my joke with a twisted grin. After waking Hope in my special way, she ended up falling back asleep. Once I refuel, I plan to go back upstairs and wake her up with my face between her legs. “I’ll be surprised if she asks Sophie to be a bridesmaid after last night,” Trinity comments, pulling me out of my filthy thoughts. “What?” Wrath glares at Trinity, but she ignores him. Z quirks an eyebrow. Trinity lifts her chin at Z. “Your girl Lilly tell you what crawled up Sophie’s ass last night?” “No.” “Didn’t she sneak out of here at sunrise?” Wrath asks with a dickish grin. “Yeah, but we weren’t talking about chick shit all night,” Z grumbles. Trinity sighs next to me. Normally, I’d laugh, but I want to hear more about what kind of bullshit came out of Sophie’s mouth last night.

“Hope said Sophie acted weird,” I prompt. “Yeah, she just made this really bad joke about how Hope planned her first wedding so fast they thought she was pregnant. Hope looked like she’d been punched in the gut.” Godfuckingdammit. This doesn’t sound like the same woman who came into my strip club, begging me to do something to help Hope out of her depression last year. What the fuck is wrong with Sophie lately? But Sophie isn’t my problem. Hope is. “That it?” I ask Trinity. She sort of shrugs, which isn’t comforting. “Yeah, I distracted them by asking about Lilly’s tits.” She glances at Z. “Your girl’s a good sport.” Z breaks out laughing. “Yeah, but she ain’t my girl.” By the expression on his face, Wrath is clearly finished with this conversation. “Downstate called. Sway wants you to come pay a visit.” Now I understand why he’s so annoyed. “Fuck. What for?” Z bristles. “Fuck that. I ain’t in the mood for that place.” Wrath flicks his gaze at Z, then back my way. “He said ol’ ladies were invited. It’s not a bad idea for you to bring Hope. Have her meet Tawny…” He lets the idea hang in the air. Tawny is a hardcore ol’ lady. Her man is president of our downstate charter. I get why Wrath thinks it’s a good idea for Hope to hang out with Tawny for a weekend, but I won’t lie and say there’s no chance Tawny won’t send Hope screaming for the hills. “What’s this, your last-ditch effort to scare Hope away?” I ask without a trace of humor. He cracks up. “Yeah, man. If Tawny don’t scare your girl away, nothing will.” “Don’t subject Hope to that bitch on wheels,” Z pleads with a headshake. “What exactly did he want?” I ask Wrath. “Something about national.” Inwardly, I groan. For bikers who claim to love living on the deviant fringe of society, the Lost Kings have turned into a complicated maze of political bullshit. I prefer to stay out of the political aspects and focus on my own charter. Unfortunately, there are some responsibilities that can’t be avoided. I can’t deny that when I’ve needed Sway’s help in the past, he or one of his guys has always been there. As much as it annoys me, it looks like I’ll be planning a trip downstate. Wrath can’t go because he’s still got his cast. Turning to Z, I lift an eyebrow. “I’d rather not,” he answers my unspoken question. “Take Murphy and Axel,” Wrath suggests. “Really, Axel? He’s a fuckin’ kid. Barely been wearing that prospect rocker a month. Bad enough we broke the rule about allowing him up here before his year was up.” I don’t even bother mentioning the bad blood already brewing between Murphy and Axel over Heidi. “It’ll do Murph some good. Keep his cocky Irish ass in check. Plus, might as well

see if Axel can hang now rather than later.” “That’s fine. Hope likes both of them, and I know they’ll look out for her.” Wrath seems insulted, which is amusing considering how much he enjoys tormenting my girl. “Prez, I’ll go if you’re worried about Hope,” Z offers. “Nah, it’ll be fine.” “Man, she thinks this place is the gateway to hell. Wait ‘til she sees Sway’s setup,” Wrath says with a little too much glee in his voice. “Dick,” I mutter ‘cause I know he’s right.

CHAPTER TEN

W hen Rock first asked me if I wanted to take a trip, I was excited. But I had

something a little different in mind than what he presents me with. A trip to visit the downstate charter of the Lost Kings. At first, it’s news to me that there’s another group of Lost Kings somewhere in the state. But then I remember him telling me he’d called some of them in to help out during their dispute with the Vipers. I just didn’t understand what it meant at the time. Who am I kidding? I still have no idea. Nor do I understand why Wrath seems so amused and Z so concerned about this trip. We’re sitting around having breakfast when a bit of a discussion breaks out. “Prez, I changed my mind. Think I’m gonna ride along,” Z announces. Rock gives him a sideways glance. Murphy quirks an eyebrow, and Wrath’s mouth twists into a grin. Trinity’s watching all of this but hasn’t commented yet. “I can go too,” she offers quietly. This earns her a glare from Wrath. Rock hasn’t said anything, but there’s an awful lot of tension at the table all of a sudden. “This is a friendly visit to our brother charter. Z, you want to come, I don’t give a fuck. Trinity, I need you here. Murphy, you’re with me. Teller’s busy with Heidi, so I’m not even bothering him with this. Axel and Hoot will take the van. Dex, Bricks, Ravage, Stash, and Birch, I need here. And I don’t think it needs to be said that Sparky’s not leaving the basement.” He gives Wrath a pointed look. Rock’s word is final. No one so much as utters a single syllable. He grunts and pushes away from the table. “Hope.” He jerks his head at me. Between his gruff tone and the way he kind of ordered me to follow him like a dog, I’m miffed. My chair almost falls over I shove up out of it so fast. “What’s wrong?” I snap when I catch up to him in the hallway. Rock’s mouth curves into a soft smile, and for the first time, I notice the lines etched around his eyes. Something about this trip is stressing him out. He holds

out his arm, beckoning me closer, and tucks me tight to his side. “Nothing, babe. Just a lot of things to get done before Friday.” Tipping up my head so I can kiss his chin, I ask, “Anything I can do to help?” “Nah. Just rest up. I gotta take care of some things. You okay?” “Yeah.” A couple days later, Trinity sits on the chaise in our bedroom, watching as I rifle through my closet. “Have you been there?” I ask her. She snorts as if it’s a silly question. “Long time ago.” “I suppose it will be a bunch of half-naked chicks running around?” I call out. “Pretty much.” “How many of them are going to tell me they fucked my fiancé?” At that, she chokes with laughter. “None of them if they want to keep breathing. Sway’s ol’ lady runs a tight ship. None of those bitches should backtalk you.” It dawns on insensitive me that this might be a weird conversation for Trinity to be part of because she’s not an ol’ lady—yet. Technically, she’s one of those girls I’m complaining about. Except I don’t see her that way. I don’t know what her arrangement with Wrath or any of the other guys is. And really, it’s not my business what consenting adults do with their bodies. What I do know is Trinity has been kind to me since day one, and I like to think we’re friends. So I don’t want to inadvertently hurt her feelings. Stepping out of the closet, I take in her guarded expression. “I wish you guys were coming with us,” I say softly. Then thinking it over, I correct myself. “Well, I wish you were coming with us.” She chuckles and flicks at an invisible piece of lint on her jeans. “Hopefully, Wyatt’s cast comes off next week.” “That’s good. Maybe he’ll be less cranky.” My attempt at a joke falls flat. “What’s wrong, Trinity?” I ask, tossing some clothes on the bed and heading toward the chaise. She finally glances up as I sit next to her. “Nothing. I don’t know. I’m not sure what happens… next.” I assume she’s talking about what happens when Wrath’s cast comes off and he no longer has a reason to stay downstairs in her room, but I wait for her to explain. Trinity is a tough nut to crack, though. “He wants… Never mind. It’s stupid.” The suspense is killing me. I want to grab her and shake really hard. But I’m afraid if I push her, she’ll clam up for good. “You’re going to have enough to worry about this weekend. Make sure you call or text me if anything comes up. Even if it’s some stupid club question that Rock’s not around to answer.” Trinity is good at deflecting. “Why wouldn’t he be around?” She turns so she’s fully facing me. “I guarantee you this visit is more than a social call, Hope. Don’t be surprised or hurt if you end up spending most of the trip

hanging out with Tawny.” Wow. I don’t know what to make of that. “Okay.” “Tawny is… more old school. She’s going to be assessing you. Judging you. Rumors spreading through the organization that Rock’s ol’ lady is weak could hurt his position.” I blink a few times, swallowing all of that down. “Here?” Her face brightens. “No, the guys here accept you. They know you’re good for Rock.” After a minute, she shakes her head. “You know what? Forget I said a word. Rock will be pissed at me for saying anything. Just watch your back with Tawny. Don’t volunteer too much information. Pretend you’re in awe of her greatness, and you’ll be fine.” Yeah, sure. That should be easy enough. Hugging Rock tight as he sped down the thruway was fun for the first half of the trip. By the second hour, I’m shivering from the cold air whipping around us. It was a bright, sunny early spring day when we left the clubhouse. Since then, the sun disappeared behind gray clouds, so we’re cutting through nothing but chilly air. I’m also horny as hell. This annoys me because I doubt I’ll be able to do anything about it anytime soon. Beneath me, the bike shifts and slows. I flick up my eyes and see Rock signaling to the other guys that we’re getting off at one of the rest stops. Interesting. I was under the impression the guys didn’t take many breaks, and I hope Rock isn’t doing this for my benefit. The last thing I want is for the brothers to start bitching about how having a girl on the ride slows them down. Rock pulls up right in front of the convenience store portion of the station. Z and Murphy glide to a stop beside us. Hoot pulls the van into a spot ahead of us. After removing his helmet, Rock reaches back and pats my thigh. I take it as my signal to dismount. “Everything okay, prez?” Z asks as he walks around to my side. “Yeah, just wanted to warm up a sec.” Murphy wanders over to the van. To harass Axel some more, I suppose. Rock takes my hand and leads me inside. We walk straight through the store and into the main portion where the fast food kiosks and bathrooms are. Tugging me out of the flow of traffic, Rock settles his hands on my shoulders. “You okay?” “Yeah, why?” The corner of his mouth turns up in a soft smile, and he traces a finger over my cheek. “You’re shivering, Baby Doll.” Oh. I guess I am. My gaze sweeps over the hoodie Rock’s wearing under his cut. My vest is too tight to fit much of anything underneath. I did layer a couple thin long-sleeved shirts, but I guess it’s not enough. “Sorry, I didn’t expect it to get colder as we traveled south,” he says while unzipping his hoodie and shrugging off his cut.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he hands me his vest to hold. He pulls the hoodie off and we trade. Subconsciously, I hug the sweatshirt to my chest, soaking in Rock’s warmth. “Come on.” He wiggles his hand at me to hand over the sweatshirt so he can help me into it. My hands run over my vest. “I don’t want to cover it up,” I protest. Sure, at first I felt strange riding down the thruway wearing this thing that proclaimed me “Property of,” but a sense of pride also clung to me. A feeling of safety. I belong to Rock. He and the four guys with us would do anything to keep me safe on this trip, and my patch announces that to the world. Covering it up seems wrong, no matter the reason. Heat flares in Rock’s eyes as my refusal sinks in. He drapes the sweatshirt over my shoulders and uses the material to tug me tight against his body. It’s instantly obvious I’m not the only one who’s been aroused by this trip. Rock presses his lips to my forehead. “How’d I get so lucky, baby?” he murmurs. With the sweatshirt sort of shielding us, I brush my hand over his crotch. He jumps as if he’s touched a live wire. His wild gaze darts around. “Come,” he orders, tugging on my hand. Yes, please.

As the sun started to set, the shivers wracking Hope’s body signaled it was time to pull over. She’s squeezing me so tight, if she gets any closer, she’ll be up inside me. We’re only about forty-five minutes from our destination, but I don’t think she can hang on much longer. Fuck, she’s barely a month and a half out of the fucking hospital. I should have my head examined for taking her on this ride. I’m thinking of sticking her in the van with the prospects for the rest of the trip. First, I want to get her into my sweatshirt and warmed up. She actually protests because she doesn’t want to cover up my patch. It takes a minute for that to sink in. Here I’d been thinking Hope was pretty pissed off when I told her to wear it all weekend. Actually, because I understand it’s all still a little weird to her, what I said was, “You can wear your patch all weekend,” like it was some special treat for her. I got a sarcastic smirk at the time. But just now, she surprised the fuck outta me. She does that a lot. I love it. All I can think about is that unisex/family bathroom I know is stashed in the

back corner. Pulling Hope along behind me, I shove through the door and lock it behind us. “What are you doing?” she asks breathlessly. “Fucking you.” She sucks in a breath, eyes going owl-wide, and presses her back against the door. Her nose wrinkles. “Here? Now?” “Yes.” I stalk toward her and throw my hands up on either side of her face. She continues staring up at me with her wide, innocent green eyes. I love that fucking expression, and I don’t ever want to see her lose it. I don’t want to be the cause of her losing a bit of her sweetness. She tips up her head, and I seal my mouth over hers, taking her in a harsh kiss meant to express everything I’m feeling inside. Her soft moans flow right into me, confirming this was a good idea. Who knows when we’ll have another chance this weekend? Breaking our kiss, I drag my mouth down along her jaw, burying my face against her neck. She makes this sweet, contented sigh as if we have all the time in the world and aren’t about to fuck in a rest stop bathroom. “Babe, this is gonna be quick and dirty,” I whisper into her ear. Against my cheek, I feel her face pull into a smile. “Then let’s get to it,” she says. Fuck. Yes. Gripping her hips, I tug her away from the door and over to the sink. I don’t even have to voice what I’m planning. She’s already unbuttoning her jeans. “Uh-uh,” I tsk at her. “Put your hands on the sink.” She glances at me, and I catch a hint of a playful smile curving her lips as she does what I ask. I take a minute to get myself ready. I’m pretty much carrying condoms in every goddamn pocket these days and giving serious consideration to getting snipped, because fuck if I’m going to risk Hope’s life again. The memory of taking her to the hospital stops me. “Rochlan?” Her soft, questioning voice pulls me from my dark thoughts. She wiggles her butt at me, which is damn cute. But in the mirror, I see the worry tightening her face. “Please fuck me,” she says so low I barely catch it. Hope talkin’ dirty without any prompting is a rare treat, and it revs me back up in no time. My hands find their way to her jeans and shove them down her thighs, leaving them around her knees. “Tip that ass up, sweetheart,” I whisper harshly against her ear. She arches her back, going up on tiptoes just a bit, and I slide home. “Fuck, you’re wet. Ride work you up?” She sort of puffs out an answer, but mostly she’s thrusting back against me. Her fingers are curled tight over the edge of the sink and she rocks back, harder and

harder. Her head is tipped down, so all I can see in the reflection is the crown of her head. “Look in the mirror, doll.” Shaking her hair out of her face, she glances up and our eyes lock. Fuck, I wish she was naked. Her lips part and her eyelids drop. She’s so fucking snug around my dick. “Babe, this isn’t going to take long.” She groans, long and low, her pussy locking down on me. White heat streaks down my spine, tightening everything in me. It feels like I come for hours, although it’s probably not even a minute. Carefully, I pull out and clean up. Hope is still bent over, clinging to the side of the basin. I can’t help but give her ass a little smack. She doesn’t even jump, just sighs as a content little smile curves her lips. Outside the bathroom, someone bangs on the door. Loud. “In a minute,” I shout. Hope’s so blissed out she doesn’t even notice the audience we have waiting. Gotta say, that makes me real fucking happy and ready to fuck her all over again. “Come on, Baby Doll,” I encourage, slipping my hands around her waist to hike her jeans into place. Finally, she straightens up and takes over. She turns and loops her hands around my neck. “I love you,” she says very softly. Time sort of stands still. It’s not the first time she’s said it, but her words have a strong effect on me. Before I can answer, her cheeks flush pink and her gaze bounces around the bathroom. “What’s wrong?” “I need to pee.” I shouldn’t be so amused at her discomfort, but after what we just did, it’s hard not to chuckle. She punches me in the arm. “Turn around.” That makes me laugh even harder, but the banging at the door again stops me. “Dammit,” Hope mutters behind me. When we finally open the door, there’s a very pissed off family across the way. I tuck Hope into my side and pull her along before she freaks out. When we get into the convenience store, she pulls away from me. She’s completely pink from the neck up. It’s really cute. “You want some coffee or something to warm up, doll?” She glares at me but nods, then wanders off. When she returns, she’s holding a banana and a bottle of water, which sets me off laughing again. “Where the fuck did you find a piece of fruit at a gas station?” She gives me a disgusted snort and heads for the front. Z’s waiting near the register for us. “The fuck, prez? Been waiting forever.” His gaze skips to Hope, who turns even pinker. Z chuckles but wisely chooses

not to comment. Outside, we sip coffee, and Axel and Hoot join us. “I’m gonna send Hope in the van with you two.” Hope whips her head around. “Why?” “We got plenty of room, Hope. I’ll even sit in the back,” Hoot tells her. Hope’s got a look on her face that tells me she has a lot to say on the subject, which surprises me. I thought she’d be relieved. Throwing my arm around her shoulder, I tug her away from the guys. “Why don’t you want me with you?” she asks. I swear she sounds close to tears, and I’m suddenly feeling kinda stupid. “Of course I want you with me. It’s just getting cold, baby.” “Oh. How much longer is the trip?” “Probably another forty-five minutes.” Her eyes skip to the van, then back to me. “I’ll be okay.” She holds out her hand. “Give me your sweatshirt.” I hold her gaze for a minute. “You sure? I don’t want you to get sick this weekend.” “I’m okay. I warmed up. I’m feeling rejuvenated.” I snort at that. I’m feeling pretty rejuvenated myself at the moment. “All right, but tap me if it’s too much. Don’t worry about what the guys or anyone but me thinks.” “Okay.” I help her into the sweatshirt, and we turn back to the group. “Let’s go.”

The rest of the ride is uneventful. Just as I’m thinking of taking Rock up on his offer to ride in the van, he signals that we’re getting off the thruway. Wrath has told me he used to make lots of runs to California, but I can’t imagine being trapped on a bike for days at a time. This has been plenty. Although it’s not nestled deep in the woods like our clubhouse, the downstate charter does have a bit of privacy about it. The building looks like an old chain hotel that’s been taken over by a band of rowdy bikers. Which is exactly what it is. “Used to be a Howard Johnson’s,” Z explains. “They even have a pool. You bring your bikini, Hope?” he teases. Rock growls and nudges him away from me. “Stop trying to see my woman

without her clothes, dick.” Z and I both laugh, which makes Rock smirk. With a more serious expression, Rock settles his hands on my shoulders and tilts his head at the guys to join us. “This is a brother charter, Hope. Everyone will be aware you’re my girl. Even so, if you’re not with one of the old ladies, I want you to stick close to me or one of our guys.” He points at everyone. A skittering of unease travels down my spine. Trinity has explained to me that most MCs are very different than ours. I’ve never been clear if that extends to the entire Lost Kings organization or just the upstate charter Rock is responsible for. Leaning down, Rock touches his forehead to mine. “Sway is the president here. His ol’ lady is Tawny. You’ll probably hang with her for a bit.” He pauses, and I get the sense he’s about to say something he thinks will tick me off. But I’m so out of my element it would take a lot for me to get upset right now. “Try to, uh, just observe her, okay?” If I hadn’t already been warned ahead of time by Trinity, I wouldn’t know what to make of that. I’ll have to remember to text her a thank you later. “Trinity explained she runs a tight ship here,” I tell him. His mouth quirks. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” Rock hasn’t said a lot about what this trip means. But thanks to Trinity, I have an inkling it’s more than just a social visit. I’m determined not to do anything that will make him worry or embarrass him. “Listen and learn?” I ask him gently. A look of relief washes over his face. “Yeah. You got any questions or get upset about something you see, we’ll talk it out when we’re alone, okay?” he promises me. I can do this. “Yup.” I give him a quick peck on the lips, then step back and shrug off his sweatshirt. Smoothing my hands over my vest and loosening my ponytail, I paste a smile on my face. “Let’s do it.” As we approach the building, two large men step out of the shadows. They seem to be guarding the entrance. “Evening,” one calls out. As we get closer, I see they’re both wearing black leather cuts but no visible patches on the front. The guy on the left eyes Rock. “Oh shit. Sway said to be lookin’ out for you. Hey, Mr. North.” Poor guy seems confused about how he should address Rock. Next to me, Z bumps me with his elbow and smirks. Rock threads his fingers through mine and leans down. “Brace yourself,” he whispers. I assume he’s kidding until the two prospects open the doors. It’s a fight not to clap my free hand over my mouth like some prude. Any wave of courage I was riding in the parking lot washes away the moment we

step inside. I remember my shock the first time I set foot in Rock’s clubhouse during a Friday night party. That was nothing compared to this. No wonder they have guys guarding the front door. I’m not sure where to look first, or rather, where to safely avert my gaze. Drugs —more than the weed that is always available at Rock’s clubhouse—are being enjoyed by a number of guests. And I’ve certainly witnessed my fair share of public sex at Rock’s club, but this is damn close to a full-on orgy. At Rock’s, I’m intrigued and mildly amused or curious. Here, I’m sort of grossed out. A woman I can only describe as hard greets us at the door. I imagine she was quite beautiful twenty years, twenty thousand cigarettes, and two hundred thousand tanning bed hours ago. She’s got an impressive helmet of hair shellacked into perfection around her heart-shaped face. If I were a nastier, more judgmental person, the words trailer and trash might spring to mind. But I’m not, so I push away the thought before it can fully form. “Well, if it isn’t upstate come to grace us with your presence,” she jokes in a raspy voice before pressing her long talons against Rock’s cheeks and giving him a quick kiss. The rest of the guys get the same treatment, even Axel. “Tawny, this is Hope,” Rock introduces. The woman turns and her scary eyes sweep over me from head to toe. “Rock’s ol’ lady. Never thought we’d see that.” She holds out her hand. Instead of shaking, she tugs me away from the guys. “I’ll take good care of her. Go find Sway. He’s been waitin’ on ya,” she says with a wave. I flash a nervous smile at Rock and, determined to nail this ol’ lady role, let Tawny drag me away.

Watching Tawny drag Hope away isn’t easy. Let’s face it; I don’t like having her out of my sight even when we’re home. But here? No. “Want me to keep an eye on ‘em, prez?” Hoot asks. “Yeah, just don’t be obvious. Don’t insult Sway.” “I’ll play dumb prospect.” “Don’t overthink it,” Z cracks. Hoot’s hard to insult, so he just laughs and takes off. Since Tawny’s here, the number of club whores present should be a lot fewer than it seems to be. Not sure what that’s about. Before we even make it to the bar,

Murphy’s dragged off by a slim blonde who looks vaguely familiar. Turning, I check on Axel, who seems to be handling himself fine. He flashes a quick smile at me. “When we find out where we’re staying, bring Hope’s stuff in, then mine.” “Yeah, no problem, prez.” Sway walks out of his office with a big grin in place. “Motherfucker! It’s been too long, brother.” He greets me with a solid slap on my back. Z gets the same greeting. “Come on, let’s get you a drink and some shitty bar food.” After we’re set up at the bar, Sway makes a big show of looking around the room. “Weren’t you bringing your ol’ lady?” “Yeah, she’s with Tawny.” “God help her. Sorry, man,” he says, completely serious. Glad to see nothing’s changed here. “You’re out of your fuckin’ mind to be takin’ an ol’ lady when you got all those fuckin’ strippers beggin’ for your cock.” Standing next to me, Z snorts and looks away. Sway pokes a finger at Z. “You disagreein’, fucker?” “Yeah. When you meet her, you’ll understand,” he answers, slapping away Sway’s hand. I cock my head at Z. Startin’ to wonder about him lately. Sway is surprisingly impressed. “Got your officer’s approval?” “Fuckin’ A.” Thankfully, we move on from talkin’ about my love life. “Where’s your RC?” “Already took off with one of your girls.” Sway nods knowingly. “Serena. Bitch has been pining for him since the last time he was here. I got half a mind to send her back with you fucks.” Just what we need.

Tawny pulls me into a quieter lounge area. There are a number of other women surrounding us. Some she says hello and introduces me to, some she outright ignores. Club whores. Rock tried to explain this dynamic to me once. But it’s one of those things that needs to be personally observed to be understood.

Tawny stops to introduce me to one of the women she seems to feel is worthy. “Angie, this here is Rock’s girl.” Angie is a tiny little thing. She’s got a softer face than Tawny, but something about her still sets my radar off. She walks around me, checking out my patch. “Well, well. He’s patched you in already.” She glances down at the officer’s patches on my side and sneers. “Got the guys to vote you in? You must really be something,” she says as if she’s not impressed. “Ignore Angie. She’s just pissed Bull keeps blocking her vote,” Tawny says with a wave of her hand. But while she says to ignore Angie, she seems secretly pleased. I don’t like either of them. Is this what Rock expects of me? Will this be what I turn into twenty years from now? Yikes. Obviously, I haven’t given enough thought to our long-term future. My fingers automatically start twisting my engagement ring, which suddenly feels very tight. Tawny pulls me over to a couch and sits us down. She snaps her fingers at one of the girls loitering around, and a few minutes later, two beers are set down on the table in front of us. I smile and nod my thanks, which makes Tawny chuckle. “How on earth did you hook up with Rock? It must be some story.” I’m not really sure where to start. It’s a long and complicated tale. I don’t feel like explaining to this woman that I’m a lawyer, and I don’t think it will be received very well. “I hear you’re a lawyer,” she prods. Well, there goes that plan. One corner of my mouth twitches into something resembling a smile. “Yeah, I got assigned to represent him at an arraignment and things just kind of snowballed from there.” Geez, what an understatement. Her eyes drop down to take in my ring, which I’m still nervously twisting round and round. “A ring and a patch. Rock’s really not fucking around this time,” she observes. “How long have you known him?” She tips her head back as if she’s counting up the years in her head. “Long time. Sway was a member upstate when Rock was prospecting.” “Oh, really? How long have you and… Sway been together?” “Since high school. So twenty-eight years?” Wow, okay, so that only puts her maybe mid-forties. Here I was thinking she was a lot older. I should probably keep that to myself. No woman wants to hear that. One of the girls runs into the room, shrieking for Tawny. “Excuse me, honey. Fucking drama with these bitches nonstop,” she says as she takes off.

Not sure what to do with myself, I look around the room. None of the other girls will meet my eyes. Little pit bull Angie has disappeared. No one told me I had to stay here, right? As soon as I get up, I need to find a bathroom. It’s an old hotel, and this is basically the reception/lounge area, so there’s got to be a bathroom somewhere. I find one out in the hallway. As I’m walking out, I run smack into a familiar face. Cookie. The last time I saw her, she called me an uppity cunt and Rock had her booted from the clubhouse. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. “Hope! My God. I heard you were here.” She scans me up and down. “Cookie, right?” As if I could forget. She blushes and looks at the floor. “I was hoping I’d run into you so I could apologize for how I acted when we met.” Waiting for the punch line, I cross my arms over my chest. Her gaze lands on my face again, and I detect nothing but sincerity. “That night, I was a little tipsy. You know Rock and I… Well, he’d been so distant from all the girls for so long, and then you kind of showed up out of nowhere and you’re nothing like us, and it kind of hurt. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. I’m sorry.” Holy shitballs. Not that I have any reason to, but I want to apologize to her. Instead, I reach out and squeeze her arm. “I understand.” Relief floods her face. “Thank you.” “So you ended up here?” I ask. “Yeah.” She turns and points to a guy who’s a slightly smaller, less absurdly sexy version of Rock standing at the end of the hallway. He catches her eye and smiles. “I’m with Steer. He’s the VP here.” Well, didn’t she land on her feet? “That’s good.” She nods. “I’m glad I saw you. I felt really awful, but I knew Rock would never let me back up there, even to apologize.” A thought pops into my head. “Hey, the two charters must mingle from time to time, right?” “Oh yeah, especially in the summers.” “Cool, so I’m sure we’ll see you guys up at our clubhouse.” She seems startled. But hell, if she’s hooked up with the VP down here, I’m sure as heck not going to be the reason he can’t bring his ol’ lady to our clubhouse. “That’s sweet of you, Hope. Thanks.” We talk for a few more minutes, then go our separate ways.

From where I’m sitting at the bar, I’m able to spot Hope as she comes out of the bathroom. I’d heard Cookie was down here but never thought she’d be here tonight. She best stay the fuck away from me. Instead, she catches Hope in the hallway. For some unfathomable reason, Hope’s by herself—Tawny’s doing a stellar job lookin’ out for my girl. Everything in me wants to go to her and make sure she’s okay. But with Sway sittin’ so close, I can’t let him think my girl’s weak. Thankfully, they seem to be getting along. Hope gives her what I recognize as her professional lawyer smile. Sway follows my line of vision. “Oh yeah, heard they didn’t get along so well. Sorry if it’s a problem that she’s here tonight. Steer seems to have taken a shine to Cookie.” “Nah, no problem.” Hope’s weaving her way through the crowd toward me, and I give her a chin lift so she knows it’s okay to approach us. This gets a genuine smile from her, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. When she’s close enough, I pull her against me, tucking her between my knees. She perches on my thigh and curls her arm around my waist. Sway has turned away to speak to the girl behind the bar, so for the moment, I have Hope to myself. Leaning down, in a low voice, I ask if she’s okay. I get a nod. “I saw you speaking to Cookie. Sorry ‘bout that.” She seems surprised. “It’s all good. She apologized. I told her we’re fine and that I hoped we’d see her when the clubs get together or whatever.” Well, isn’t my girl full of surprises? “That was very kind, doll. Thank you.” She shrugs and takes a sip of my Scotch. The wrinkled-nose face she makes is pretty funny. I hand her a bottle of water and try to keep myself under control while she wraps her lips around it and takes a deep gulp. “Everything okay?” she whispers when she’s finished. Before Sway turns his attention on us, I want to give Hope a heads-up. “Don’t get mad, but you need to sit here and look pretty, okay? Don’t volunteer more information than necessary.” Instead of anger, she responds with a soft smile and runs her hand over my cheek. “I’m good, Rochlan.” “You’re the best,” I murmur into her ear. Her eyelids drop and she presses a kiss against my jaw.

This isn’t the time or place to get carried away—not that it would matter with what’s going on in this room around us. I don’t want to stop her, but my exhibitionist days are over. Not with Hope. She’s mine and mine alone. All of her. Still, I can’t find it in me to stop her as she nuzzles and trails her soft lips against my neck. Sway stops her for me. “So you must be Hope,” he says with a lot of laughter behind the words. Hope’s body snaps straight, but she stays tight to me. A glance shows me her cheeks are flushed pink. “Sway.” He introduces himself, holding out his hand. Hope’s gaze skips to me, and I nod before she accepts his hand. For some reason, I find it awfully fucking hot she sought out my permission before touching another man, even for something as simple as a handshake. I need my fucking caveman brain examined. “Thank you for inviting me down.” “Sure thing. My woman take care of you?” “Ah, she did, but she got called away for something, so we didn’t get a lot of time to talk.” “Sounds about right. Tomorrow, you gals can get acquainted while we handle business.” Hope sort of twitches against me, and I’d bet my bike she’s holding back laughter at the over-the-top way he says that. Sway and I go way back, and I got a lotta respect for him. But the fucker talks like a cartoon biker sometimes. Sway’s gaze springs to the door. “Excuse me for a sec,” he says as he slides off his stool. Behind the bar, Sara hands me a basket of cheese sticks. Hope twists around, and I nudge her so she’s resting against my other leg, facing the bar. “You hungry?” Her nose wrinkles. “Yes. But—” “Not a lot of gourmet dishes here, doll,” I say softly against her ear. The shiver that works over her body surprises me. Suddenly, I’m very aware no one has given us a room yet. I need to remedy that soon. Picking up one of the chubby, greasy sticks, I lift it to Hope’s mouth. “Open.” A frisky smile kicks up the corners of her mouth as she follows my order. I groan as she sits and waits patiently, lips parted, for me to bring the food to her. Something about the trust she displays while waiting for each bite sends heat streaking through me. What started out being sort of silly and playful, a way to ease the tension I think we’re both feeling on this adventure, ends up turning my crank in a spectacular manner. Feeding my girl from my hand, taking care of her that way, a rush of power goes straight to my head. Christ, the things I want to do to her. Right this fucking second. When she’s finished, I press a kiss to her forehead, and she lets out a satisfied

sigh. As I run the back of my knuckles over her cheek, she leans into my touch. In the middle of this wild clubhouse with all sorts of crazy shit going on around us, my girl and I are having this intense moment, and I wish we were anywhere else in the world. “Sorry ‘bout that,” Sway says, sliding back into his seat. Really. Anywhere else in the world right now would be great.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I don’t know what’s gotten into Rock. Or me for that matter.

I seriously want to jump him. That’s nothing new. I pretty much always want to fuck his brains out. But something about tonight is different. There’s a strange dynamic going on between us. Some sort of power shift happened on the ride down here. I’m not sure what to make of it. The fact that it doesn’t bother me bothers me. I’m used to feeling out of place in Rock’s world. But Sway’s clubhouse brings a whole new level of discomfort to my usual confused state. After hanging with Tawny and Sway, I appreciate Trinity and, I’ll be honest, even Wrath a whole lot more. I have a whole new respect for the way Rock runs his club; that’s for sure. Rock has me sort of cocooned against him, as I’m sure he can feel my unease. I appreciate the shelter of his body and plan to take cover against him as long as I can. A gentle tap on my shoulder shakes me out of my thoughts. “You doin’ okay?” Z asks softly. A smile tugs at my mouth, and I sit up. “Yeah. Where have you been hiding?” “I been around,” he answers with a smirk. “Yeah, I bet.” I giggle and give him a soft shove. Rock’s arm tightens around my waist and laughter rumbles out of him. “Well, I guess some things don’t change,” comes from a shrill voice behind me. Rock’s body jerks upright, tossing me forward into Z, who turns and steps in front of me protectively. I wriggle around to see what has them so worked up and find a short, curvy woman in front of me. Fan-fucking-tastic. Is there nowhere I’m safe from running into Rock’s past pieces of ass? Wasn’t Cookie enough fun for one night? “Carla,” Rock says tightly. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Z asks, still shielding me from the woman. “My old man has business with the club. Never thought I’d run into you.” “You should go find him,” Z suggests.

Maybe I was wrong and this is a former fling of his. “Jesus, Rock. What’s it been? Eleven, twelve years?” Or not. “Not long enough,” he answers. Angling her way past Z, she narrows her gaze at me, thrusting out her hand. “Hi, I’m Rock’s ex-wife.” Oh, for fuck’s sake. I’ve heard plenty about this woman. But no one has ever uttered her name. Wrath and Z both have other choice words they use to refer to her. Rock almost never mentions her. I know she cheated on him and his two best friends hate her— that’s about it. Reaching past Z, I take her tiny hand. She eyes me up and down, finding me lacking, I’m sure. “Hope.” I introduce myself. She raises an eyebrow as if she expects me to elaborate. When I don’t, she sweeps her nasty gaze over me again, this time lingering on my vest and then finally my left hand, which is currently resting on Rock’s leg. “His ol’ lady,” she finally concludes. “Wow, that’s some rock you got from Rock,” she says with a smirk. My, she’s a sharp one. “So you’re getting married again finally? I’m happy for you.” I want to laugh in her face. It’s not like Rock’s been some lonely bachelor all these years. “Thanks,” Rock answers, not sounding a bit thankful at all. Sway returns, and Z relocates behind Rock’s chair. “Jesus Christ, who the fuck dragged your sorry ass in here, Carla?” Sway asks. With those words, I find myself liking him a whole lot more. She actually rolls her eyes. Nervy bitch. “You know I’m here with Barry.” “Good, that means you’re leaving soon,” Sway answers without looking at her. “Rock, anyone set you and your lovely ol’ lady up with a room yet?” he asks. “No.” “Sorry, that’s not cool. Give me a second.” Sway pushes away from the bar and storms over to a room off to the side of the front entrance. For some reason, Carla’s still standing with our little group. Man, she can’t take a hint. “So how’d you two meet? You don’t look like the usual club whore,” she says as if that’s an acceptable way to start a conversation. “It’s a long story,” I answer. “Oh, I can imagine. Has Rock ever told you how we met?” “Nope. I didn’t even know your name until a few minutes ago.” Z lets out a loud cough, and Rock turns toward the bar. Carla narrows her eyes at me but doesn’t give any other response. Thankfully, Sway returns, rescuing me from any more awkward conversation. He gives Carla a pointed look, and she finally walks away, but I’m sure it won’t be the last we see of her this weekend. After slapping a room key down on the bar, Sway points down the hall. “Down at

the end, ‘round the corner. It should be somewhat quiet.” “You got another one down that way?” Z asks. Sway quirks an eyebrow. “Since when you want some quiet?” Z shrugs. “Yeah, I’ll hook you up.” Z and Sway take off together. Rock picks up the key, turning it over in his hand for a second. “You okay?” he finally asks. “Yes. Are you?” A small smile tugs at one corner of his mouth. “Yeah, doll. I’m good. You ready for bed?” “God, yes.” That tempts a bigger smile out of him. He pulls out his phone and taps out a message. A few minutes later, Hoot and Axel show up with our bags. Stepping away from Rock, I try to grab my stuff, but Axel pulls it away with a laugh. “Knock it off, First Lady. I got it.” He grins at me. “Thank you, Axel.” Rock hands over the key to Hoot and points them in the direction of our room.

Except for Hope’s presence, this entire trip has sucked. The thought that Sway wants me to join his bid for national and have to do this on a regular basis gives me fucking hives. Fuck that. Carla. What a deep well of bad memories she stirred up. It’s probably been closer to fifteen years since I last saw my ex. I could have happily gone the rest of my life never seeing her again. I certainly never wanted Hope to meet her. I can’t even imagine what’s going through her head right now. My girl is quiet as she takes my hand and we follow the prospects down the hall. Axel sets her stuff down on a chair right inside the door and asks her if she needs anything. I have to admit, the way this kid looks after my woman, he’s kind of growing on me. After they leave, Hope rifles through her bags. With her overflowing pouch of who knows what in one hand, she wraps the fingers of her other hand around mine and tugs me into the bathroom. “Come on. I know what you need.” Her certainty would get a smile out of me, except she’s so serious. I’m curious what she thinks I need. Besides her. Because, honestly, as long as I have her, I don’t give a fuck about anything else. Once we’re in the bathroom, she turns and shuts the door. Her bright green eyes

search my face for a second before she stretches up and loops her arms around my neck. Her soft lips find their way to my jaw, slowly working lower. “Mmm, you’re right. That’s exactly what I need,” I tease. “I’m not finished,” she answers in a low, husky voice. This will be interesting. Hope doesn’t often take the lead. The fact that she’s so eager to now has me practically jumping out of my skin to see where she’s going with this. Her soft fingers find their way to the hem of my shirt, teasing underneath, then tugging it up. I give her a hand and toss it on the sink. Next, her hands start working my belt. I definitely like where she’s going. “Not fair, doll. You’re still fully dressed.” She stops and takes a step back, lifting her arms over her head. I get the hint and work her shirt up and off. “Better?” she asks. “Yup.” Now that we’re both shirtless, she reaches out to touch me. Soft at first. Gentle strokes down my chest and shoulders. Hope’s not just touching me, though; it’s more like admiring, and it’s a jolt of arousal through my system. My dick jumps to life under her touch and appreciative gaze. After a few more gentle strokes, she gets back to work on my belt, loosening it, flicking open the button on my jeans, and working the zipper. Tugging down my jeans, she kneels in front of me to work off my boots. Something about my girl on her knees undressing me like this is beyond fucking hot. Especially when she stops to peek up at me from beneath her lashes. Holy fucking hell. When she’s done, she stands and turns toward the shower. Very precisely, she digs through the bag she brought in here, pulls out a bunch of small, colorful bottles, and lines them up on the narrow shower stall shelf. When she has the water running, she strips out of the rest of her clothes and takes my hand again, pulling me in the stall with her. She positions me where she wants me, under the spray. “Turn,” she says. Like I’m going to say no. Turning, I place my hands on the back wall, spreading my legs to give my girl full access to wherever she wants to go. A groan lets loose from my chest the instant she puts her hands on me. After a soft click, a woodsy scent fills the air. She lathers and soaps me from neck to ankles. Her small hands slide over my shoulders, back, legs. After a while, her cleansing strokes turn seductive. Before she put her hands on me, I hadn’t realized how stiff and sore I was from the ride down. All her squeezing and massaging down my back feels like heaven. Her touch releases most of the tension that gathered there during the day. “Hope,” I groan.

Behind me, she lets out a happy humming noise. “Turn, please.” Fuck yes. This time I brace my arms on the shower wall and the door. Again, she lathers me up while my back takes the hot, pounding spray of water. I’m so frickin’ big Hope’s still mostly dry. I’ll need to fix that in a minute, but right now, what she’s doing feels too damn good. Her soft hands are everywhere, kneading and massaging me—turning a simple shower into some of the hottest foreplay ever. She rubs and strokes every part of me. Except the part I want her to stroke the most. I’m a patient guy, though, and I don’t think Hope has it in her to be cruel. Slowly, she works her way down my legs until she’s kneeling on the shower floor. Reaching down, I run my fingers through her hair. “You okay?” I ask. Instead of answering, she wraps her fingers around my dick, slowly sliding up and down. The sensation steals all thoughts and words from my brain. Even as my hips buck to her rhythm, I keep my gaze on her. An excited flush stains her cheeks pink, probably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, as she kneels up, pressing herself against my thighs. She’s not done teasing me, though. She places soft, open-mouthed kisses up and down my dick, then flicks her tongue over the head. For a brief second, she glances up, her eyes locking with mine before she wraps her lips around my cock. I almost lose it right then. The eye contact, her forward yet somehow submissive behavior, her hot, wet fucking mouth—it’s a lot to handle. I manage to hold on to control somehow as she wrecks me. Moaning around my cock. Sliding her tongue everywhere. Licking and tasting me like nothing has ever tasted so good. Using her hands. Fuck, my girl is so into this there’s no way I’m going to last long. Another groan tears out of me as she struggles to take me all the way down. She’s definitely on a mission. “Hope,” I warn. She hums in response, the vibrations traveling up my dick. White lightning streaks down my spine, and before I even know what’s happening, she’s pulling me out of her mouth. Kneeling up straighter, setting her shoulders back, she keeps working her hands up and down my length until I’m shooting hot cum all over her perfect tits. Every part of me drowns in the intensity of the orgasm she’s given me. My deep groan reverberates around the tiny shower stall as I cover my girl in my seed. The smile that plays over her mouth is so fucking hot. She’s not pissed. She doesn’t think I’m a degenerate fuckwad. Hell, she’s as into it as I am. When I manage to recover, I pull her up off the floor and into my arms. “Was that your plan all along?” I ask in between planting kisses over her cheeks and forehead. “Mm-hmm,” she answers, sliding her hands around my waist and up and down my back. Turning her in my arms, I spin us so she’s facing the shower and set about cleaning her up.

“I’m okay,” she says, brushing my hands away from her nipples. “You’re more than okay, baby,” I whisper in her ear while taking her lobe between my teeth and flicking my tongue over the soft skin. “No, I mean this was about you. I’m just going to wash off and get out of the shower.” I don’t know what to make of that. Is she worried I’m too tired to pleasure her? Because if so, I need to correct her right away. Pulling her back tight to my chest, I take both her wrists in one hand and hold them against her chest. “You think I’m too tired to repay the favor, sweetheart?” Her giggle turns to a gasp as I work my hand between her thighs. “Spread your legs for me now, Hope,” I growl in her ear as she tries to resist me. She finally gives in, and I stroke my fingers through her silky, hot folds. Barely touching her at first. When she starts moaning and thrusting her hips, chasing my hand, I know I’ve got her. Leaning down a little more, I press kisses against her shoulder, then whisper in her ear, “You’re all mine, Hope. You belong to me. This beautiful pussy, your hot little mouth, your perfect fuckin’ body—all of it mine. And I take care of what’s mine.” I mean every fucking word. She whimpers and nods her head. That’s more like it. “You’re gonna come for me.” I’m not asking. Just giving her the facts. “I—” “No talking. Relax. Close your eyes and let me take care of you.” She gasps, then cries out and jerks her hips as I find her clit. Knowing how sensitive my girl is, I work her with soft, slow strokes until she’s panting. Looking down at her face blows me away. Lips parted, lashes fluttering, cheeks flushed. “You gonna be a good girl if I let your hands go?” She doesn’t really answer, but the noises she makes sound similar to a yes. As soon as I release her wrists, she loops her arms up over her head, around my neck. “Fuck. Baby, you’re so beautiful all stretched out for me.” “Rock…” “I got you.” She works her hips in restless circles. Sliding my hand down over her belly, I can’t quite get where I want from this angle. Hope whines as I release her. Slapping the shower off, I rip open the door and scoop Hope into my arms. Her eyes snap open. “What are you doing?” “This ain’t workin’ for me, babe. I want my fuckin’ face buried in your pussy.” “I’m soaking wet.” “Yeah, you are,” I agree with a smirk. She taps my chest. “No, we’re going to get the bed all wet.” “If you’re still worried about the sheets in the next two seconds, then I’m going

to question my manhood.” With those words, I toss her on the bed, enjoying the way she bounces in the air a little. She squeals and tries to roll away, but I grab her ankle and pull her where I want her. “Spread your legs right now, baby. I need that pussy, and I am not in the mood to fuck around.” Very shyly, she complies, and I descend on her like a starving man. Her hips shoot off the bed, grinding against me, and I growl. Can’t fucking get enough of her. Hot, wet, slippery woman on my tongue. My fingers find their way to her entrance and I sink one inside while lapping at her clit. Curling my fingers and stroking, I find the spot that makes her squirm the way I like. Her hands dive into my hair, gripping it, and I smile, happy I’ve been keeping it longer so she’s got something to hold on to while I work her into a juicy little puddle. I’m fucking roaring with satisfaction from the way she screams. Knowing how shy my girl is, there’s no way she’d be making this much noise if she remembered where we were. Pride that I caused her to lose herself so completely pushes me to work her harder. When her screams turn a little sharper and she’s wrigglin’ away from me, I pull back. “Oh, Rock. I can’t. No more.” Yeah, I can’t get this smirk off my face. “Good, baby?” “So good.” She uncurls her fingers from my hair and sits up a little. “Thank you.” Crawling into bed with her, I drop a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you.” Yes, I feel the need to thank her. Sex has never been like this. Doesn’t matter how colorful my past. Nothing blows me away the way Hope does. Probably because just the thought of her gets me hard, but I think it’s that I love her so fuckin’ much and I know she loves me. I feel it in every inch of her, and I want to keep her love more than anything. The connection we have, being in love—making love is new to me, and I don’t know how I lived so long without her. A shiver works over her, but I don’t think it’s from me this time. “You cold, Baby Doll?” “Yeah.” As much as I love her sleeping naked, I’m glad she brought pajamas on this trip. Digging through her hastily packed bag, I pull out flannel pants and a long-sleeved shirt. “I can get it, Rock.” “Stay there.” For once, she listens. I help her into the clothes, then tuck her under the blankets. After getting myself ready for bed, I find Hope watching me with a quiet intensity that quite frankly turns me the fuck on. As usual. “Need anything else, baby?” “Um, socks. My feet are still cold.”

After that’s taken care of, I shut off all the lights, check my phone, and crawl into bed. My girl’s a nice, warm armful and snuggles down tight next to me. My mind is racing a hundred miles a minute. “Rock?” “Yeah, baby.” She’s quiet for a beat, and I wonder what’s on her mind. “How long were you and Carla married?” I groan. It’s the last fuckin’ thing I want to talk about. But I understand why she’s curious. “Fuck, it’s so long ago, I don’t even know. Two years? We were together maybe a year before that.” “How’d you meet?” I sigh, because this is going to be a long night.

I don’t know why I need to hear about Rock’s ex. I guess she got to me with her question. How did they meet? Was it love at first sight? Obviously, at some point, he thought she was the woman he wanted to spend his life with. Why was that? Rock is silent for so long I start to worry he’s mad at me for asking. Finally, he takes a deep breath. “She was living with a guy who used to smack her around. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have a thing for damsels in distress.” “No,” I answer in a fake shocked voice and get a pinch on my butt for the trouble. “So I helped her out of that situation, and we kinda fell into a relationship. I thought it was love and she thought she had it made. After a while, she moved in with me and Wrath.” “I remember he said he didn’t stick around long after.” “Mmm, he was there for a while.” Something about the way he says that gives me pause. “What did she mean by some things never change?” “How should I know what’s going on in her messed-up mind?” “Rock—” “Fine. You sure you want to hear this?” Rock shifts beneath me, pulling away. Concerned, I wrap my arm around his middle. “Tell me.” “You remember that day Wrath found us in the garage?” My cheeks heat at the memory. “How could I forget?”

“We used to share everything when we were younger. Especially women.” Wow. Whoa. “What?” “You need me to explain?” “Did you two—” “No! Fuck no. Jesus.” I can’t deny that the image of being worked over by Rock and Wrath is now seared into my brain. “She’s such a tiny thing. How’d she ever survive the two of you?” Harsh, uncontrollable laughter rumbles out of him. “That’s your question?” “I’m trying to imagine—” Abruptly, his laughter stops. “Don’t go there, Hope. Those days are over. Anyway. I thought she understood when we got married, that stuff would stop. I made it clear, but apparently, she didn’t agree. So she started coming on to Wrath anytime I wasn’t around, until he finally moved out.” “He never took her up?” “No,” he answers without any hesitation. “Is that something you and Z did too?” Because, honestly, now I’m flustered conjuring up that image. “No. Not for lack of trying on her part. She started fucking around behind my back, but I had a lot of shit going on at the time and didn’t see it. Shortly after was when I got arrested. She filed for divorce the day I got sentenced and went inside.” “That’s cold.” “That’s Carla. She sat in the courtroom with me, kissed me good-bye, then hauled her ass down the street to a divorce attorney. Got served before I even got a cell assigned to me.” I’m so hurt and angry on Rock’s behalf. No wonder he seemed floored when I told him I wouldn’t desert him. “Tried to clean out the apartment too. Luckily, Wrath stopped her. She did, however, manage to sell my bike while I was inside.” I’m surprised she’s alive. “That’s ballsy.” I want to learn more about this time in his life, but my mind can’t give up the threesome thing. “So when did you and Wrath start doing… you know?” “Why are you asking?” “I don’t know. I’m just so inexperienced next to you. I don’t… You’re going to get bored with me eventually.” “Hope, that’s not going to happen. I’ll be the one to give you whatever experience you think you need.” An uncontrollable laugh spills out of me. “I don’t know. I feel like I should at least have a few more partners or something.” “That’s not even remotely funny, Hope.” Neither of us speaks for a moment. “Is that what you want?” he finally asks. It’s dark so I can’t see his face, but his grave tone sends shame spiraling through

me. “No, Rock. That’s not what I want at all. I’m sorry—I didn’t mean that.” His arms tighten, reassuring me he’s not angry. “It’s okay, baby. I’m used to you blurting out whatever pops in your head when you feel threatened.” “What? I do not.” His chuckle is softer this time, and his rough hand caresses the side of my face. “It’s one of many things I love about you.” “You love that I’m a jackass who sticks her foot in her mouth all the time?” “Yup.” “Sweet talker.” Our mouths meet in the dark. Soft kisses that intensify quickly. Rock pulls away, nudging me onto my back and settling over me. More kisses rain down over my cheeks, on my neck. Hot breath rushes over my ear. “Gonna make love to my girl now.” “Make love, huh?” I tease because his seriousness is a little alarming. Rough hands trace over my cheek. “Yeah, baby. That’s something I’ve never done with anyone but you.” My lips part, but he cuts off my question before it even forms. “I didn’t know. Until you. The difference. So, yeah, baby, you’re the first.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

F or once, I’m awake before Rock. I’m freezing. Easing out of bed, I find his flannel

shirt from yesterday and slip into it, then pad into the bathroom. When I walk back into the bedroom, Rock’s still curled on his side, sound asleep. He’s so much more relaxed and so gorgeous my heart skips while I watch him. Knowing how little sleep he normally gets, I want him to rest as long as possible. I also want to have some coffee waiting for him when he does finally get up. My jeans are draped over the recliner across from the bed, and I tug them on over my sleep pants. I jam my feet into my boots too because I’m just not comfortable walking around here in my socks. Pocketing the room key, I glance at Rock one more time before venturing out into the quiet clubhouse. I find Axel sprawled out on a couch in the lobby area. He tips his head up and flashes a brief smile. “Morning, Hope,” he rasps. “Morning. Did you sleep out here?” “Yeah. Prospects don’t get rooms,” he says with a tired grin. Ah, to be young and still think it’s cool to sleep on some random couch. “I need coffee,” I hush-whisper at him. His face scrunches into a frown, but before he can say anything, a large hand shackles my wrist. Definitely not Rock. “Hey, you’re new. Come here,” he says, tugging me back. “Get off me.” “Mouthy little bitch,” he growls, grabbing me harder. “Hey!” Axel says as he flies off the couch. “My old man is gonna kill you,” I grind out through clenched teeth. “You ain’t got no patch.” Dammit. I didn’t know I needed to wear it everywhere like some sort of fucking safety vest. “What the fuck’s going on here?” I whip my head around to find a shirtless Murphy entering from the hallway with the blonde he was cozy with last night.

“Fuck off, upstate,” my groper growls from behind me. To me, Murphy has always seemed very sweet and non-threatening. Burly and easygoing. I’ve apparently only seen one side of him, and I shouldn’t be surprised. He is, after all, part of Rock’s MC, and as willfully ignorant as I try to be, I know violence is a large part of their culture. Before my eyes, Murphy transforms into pure menace. “What the fuck you say to me?” he asks with deadly calm. “Mind your own business. This bitch is fair game.” I finally manage to jerk out of his grasp. Just in time too, because Murphy crosses the room with lightning speed and wraps his hand around my tormentor’s throat, shoving him into the wall. “She’s my president’s ol’ lady. You don’t even fuckin’ look at her without permission, you fucking inbred piece of shit. You sure as fuck don’t touch her. What the fuck’s your joke of a support club teaching its bitch-ass hang-arounds?” The guy can’t answer because Murphy still has his hand clutched around his throat. He does sputter. Axel comes over and curls his arm around me. “You okay, Hope?” Too stunned to speak, I nod, and Axel walks me to the couch. A few more threats and a good shake later, Murphy lets the guy go, and he stumbles down the opposite hallway. “Motherfucker,” Murphy grumbles while walking toward me. “You okay, Hope?” “Yeah.” He plants his hands on his hips and jerks his chin at me. “Where’s Rock?” “Sleeping.” “Where’s your rag?” “In our room. I just wanted… I didn’t think I needed to wear it this early.” “I know, sweetheart. We shoulda explained things better.” Murphy’s skinny blond friend returns, handing him a T-shirt and his cut. With all the commotion, I didn’t get a chance to appreciate bare-chested Murphy. What I thought was huskiness is bulky muscle covered in an explosion of colorful tattoos. Murphy plants a kiss on the girl’s cheek and slaps her ass. “Thanks, babe,” he says, clearly dismissing her. Flicking his gaze at Axel, a smirk curls his lips. “What’s wrong, prospect? Couldn’t pull any tail?” Next to me, Axel tenses. I frown. I appreciate Murphy saving me, but I hate how he’s constantly picking on Axel. I’m frantically thinking of what to say when Axel beats me to it. “I got a girl at home. Don’t need some random skank.” Murphy’s eyes narrow. “Your girl is underage, so you best be keeping your little pencil dick in your pants.” “Why don’t you worry about where you park your own diseased dick and leave me and my girl alone?”

“What the fuck did you say, little man?” Murphy says, advancing. Axel jumps up, ready to defend himself. I spring off the couch between them. “Stop, guys. Please? Murphy, I could use your help.” My pleading tone diffuses Murphy almost instantly. With one final glare, he turns away from Axel, dismissing him entirely. “What do you need, Hope?” “I want to bring some coffee back for Rock. Where can I find it?” Murphy slings his arm over my shoulders and pulls me toward the back of the room. “Serena should be able to help you out. But maybe I oughtta stick with you for now. I’ll walk you back to your room. Make sure you stay out of trouble.” I bristle at his words, except he’s right. “Thanks.” Two Styrofoam cups of coffee in one hand, Murphy leads me down the hall. He’s checking his phone, texting, and looking stuff up as we walk, so conversation is limited. When we stop in front of my door. I tug out the key and push open the door. Murphy hands me my coffee cups. “After prez has had his”—he smirks and winks at me—“morning coffee, tell him I need to speak to him.” Worried it’s about Axel, I try to get a little more information out of him. “Any more to the message than that? Is it urgent?” “Nah. Just a highway report for him.” “Highway? Are we leaving today?” I might sound a bit too eager. “Probably not.” Damn. “I’ll tell him.” Murphy nods and pats my shoulder. Apparently, he’s not leaving until I’m safely inside. “Thank you for taking care of me.” His face lights up. “Anytime, First Lady. Text me if you need anything. And no more wandering around here alone and unpatched, okay?” “Trust me. I won’t.” Enclosed in our room, it takes a second for my eyes to adjust. Rock’s still sound asleep, which makes me happy. I set his coffee on the nightstand next to him, shuck my boots and jeans, grab my book, and take up residence in the chair across from him. Every now and then, I lift my head and enjoy watching him slumber. After a while, I get lost in my reading, but I sense his breathing has changed, so I look up to find him watching me. “How long you been up, Baby Doll?” he asks in his sexy morning-rough voice. Closing my book and setting it aside, I give him my full attention. “A little while.” “Why didn’t you wake me?” “I thought you needed some rest.” A soft, bewildered smile curves his lips at my explanation. He tosses the covers aside and strides over to me. Settling his hand under my chin, he rubs his thumb over my cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” I’m not ready to tell him about the incident in the lobby yet. There’ll be plenty of time later to ruin his morning. Right now, I want to enjoy some peace and quiet with my man before God knows what goes on today. His hand drops to the collar of his shirt. “Were you cold, baby?” My shoulders lift. “A little.” “I like you in my shirt.” He plants a kiss on the top of my head and pads into the bathroom. When he reemerges, he notices the coffee and frowns. “Did you leave the room?” So much for peace and quiet. “Yes.” Rising from the chair, I meet him halfway and wrap my arms around his middle. “I wanted to bring you coffee.” “Thanks, sweetheart.” He picks it up and takes a sip. “Still warm?” “Yeah. Anyone bother you?” That didn’t take long. “Well. Sort of. Some guy, I guess, thought—” “What guy?” “I don’t know. Murphy said from a support club? He was pretty rude, but Murphy and Axel took care of it.” Rock all but slams the coffee cup back on the nightstand and curls his hands over my shoulders, turning me to face him. “Are you okay?” I wave my hand in the air between us. “I’m fine.” “Were you wearing your patch?” I thrust my chin up. “No.” “Hope, I thought I explained—” My temper flares at his tone, even though I expected the mini lecture. “You said I ‘could’ wear it all weekend, not I ‘must’ wear it all weekend—” “Don’t fuckin’ lawyer me, Hope.” That almost makes me laugh, but I’m still annoyed. “I didn’t know I was leaving myself open to being molested if I went to grab a cup of frickin’ coffee.” “Whaddya mean molested?” Rock practically shouts while grabbing a pair of jeans and throwing himself into them. “Rock. I’m fine. Please calm down.” At my pleading tone, Rock slows his movements. “I’m sorry, baby. That shit shouldn’t happen.” “Can we please spend some quiet time together before we go out there and do whatever for the rest of the day?” I ask with a flick of my wrist toward the door. Rock’s whole demeanor changes with my request. “Of course, Baby Doll. Come here.” He pulls me close and wraps me in his arms. “Thank you,” I murmur against his chest. “Tell me what you need.” “Just you. Just us for a little while longer.”

I’m seething with rage, knowing there’s a motherfucker in this clubhouse who dared put his hands on my woman. But I can’t ignore her request. Not when she asks with her soft, pleading tone and wide, innocent eyes. So finding this fuck and breaking every bone in his hand will have to wait. Besides, if I know Murphy, he’s busy taking care of the guy for me. “Come here.” Adjusting my hold on her, I walk her over to the recliner and sit, pulling her into my lap. Right away, she tucks her legs up and curls her body into me. “Did you sleep okay?” she mumbles into my neck. I did, actually. Strange because I sure as fuck ain’t comfortable here. Exhaustion, I guess. “Yeah. Did you?” She nods, her silky hair sliding over my shoulder. Suddenly, her whole body convulses in a violent sneeze. “Crap. Sorry,” she mutters. Brushing her hair off her cheek, I look in her eyes. “You’re not getting sick on me, are you?” “I hope not. I think it’s just dusty in here.” “Hmm.” I’m not so sure. And I wish like fuck we could go home today. She picks up her head again. “Murphy wants to talk to you. About a highway report?” “He does, huh?” I chuckle at that, surprised my tight-lipped road captain would give Hope even that much info. “He rescued you out there?” She bristles at the question. “Yes, I always thought he was so sweet and mildmannered.” My blood quickly jumps to boil. It must have been bad if Murphy got that intense. I hum again, but Hope isn’t fooled. All in a rush, she speaks. “I’m sorry. We haven’t even been here twenty-four hours, and I already screwed up, Rock. I’m trying so hard. I don’t want to make this trip harder or embarrass you—” “Doll, stop. Please. You could never embarrass me.” If anything, I should apologize to her. This is partially my fault for not being clearer with her. She lets out a soft chuckle. “Come on, Rock. The guys in your club barely accept me. I can’t imagine what these guys must think.” Something about her words and her tone bothers me. She’s been voted in. Obviously, she still doesn’t understand how monu-fucking-mental that is. “Baby, that’s not true and you fucking know it.” I’m interrupted from a lengthier explanation by my phone going off. Z: Sway wants us @ church in 2 hours. K?

An exasperated breath slips out of me. I need to get my head out of my ass and stay sharp. I tap out a “yes” to Z, then hit up Murphy. Stop by room “Everything okay?” Hope asks. I’m not sure, but I don’t want to worry her. “Yeah. Why don’t you get dressed? Murphy’s going to stop by in a minute. Then we’ll go down to the kitchen and have breakfast. If I know Tawny, she’ll have a big spread ready for everyone.” “Should I go help her?” “No,” I answer simply. I don’t like her waiting on the guys at my clubhouse. She sure as fuck ain’t doin’ it here. A soft thump on the door turns my attention away from Hope bent over, pawing through her bag. “I’ll be in there,” she says, pointing at the bathroom. “Thanks, doll.” One look at Murphy, and the lazy ease from the morning flows right out of me. “What up?” I ask, stepping aside so he can enter. “Nothing. Z tell you about church?” “Yeah.” “Where’s Hope?” I cock my head at him. “Getting dressed. Why?” Murphy’s wide shoulders lift. “Just making sure she’s okay. She tell you about earlier?” “Yeah, but you’re gonna tell me after you give me your highway report.” “We’re clear to roll out tomorrow morning. Langan’s got from here to Catskill, and Klouse has up past twenty-four. We don’t have to take back roads unless you want to.” Back roads could be just as risky, more places for surprise road traps, but they were usually small-town sheriff departments that were easier to handle than state troopers. “Let’s see how things go down today. Sway tell you why he wants us at church?” “Nope.” Great. It wasn’t unusual for a visiting brother charter to be included, but I still didn’t like it. “Okay, so who am I killing?” Murphy’s mouth flattens into a grim line. “Fucking nobody hang-around from their support club. Don’t worry. We had a conversation after I dropped Hope off earlier.” I don’t doubt it. “She was runnin’ around unpatched, prez.” What he means is my girl was in the wrong, so besides the beatdown, there’s not a lot more I can do about it. “She told me. He receptive to your advice?”

Now he smirks. “Sure. I used reason”—he lifts his right fist in the air—“and wisdom to get my point across,” he says, waving his left fist in front of him. A snort of amused appreciation leaves me. “Nice. Thanks.” “You know I got her back.” “I know.” From behind me, the bathroom door squeaks open. “Everything okay?” Hope asks, which I recognize is her way of asking if she can join us. Turning, I’m relieved to find her in a loose turtleneck sweater, jeans, boots, and a smile. She’s covered from neck to toes—the way I want her around here. “Yeah, baby.” Three sharp pounds on the door can only be Z. “Let him in. I’m gonna get dressed.” I drop a kiss on Hope’s head on my way to the bathroom.

The tension rolling off Rock as we enter the common room practically vibrates through me. He has his arm draped over my shoulders in what seems like a casual pose, but I doubt I could get away if I wanted to. Not that I want to. My attacker steps up to Rock, and I gasp at his face. His right eye is swollen almost shut. Lip split. He obviously had another “conversation” with Murphy. “Uh, Rock, I gotta apologize for earlier. I didn’t realize she was with you.” Rock smiles. But it’s not the easy or fun smile I’m used to seeing. It’s his hardened biker smile, and it’s more frightening than friendly. “Apologize to my woman, not me.” “Um, Hope, right? Sorry about earlier.” It’s hard to tell whether he’s sincere or scared of another beating. I nod and whisper, “Sure. I forgot about the patch. It’s a little new to me.” Rock’s hold on me tightens. “Doesn’t fuckin’ matter.” He shoots a glare at the guy who I finally notice has a patch that reads “Peanut.” What an awful road name. I wonder how he got stuck with that. “You might want to learn no means no, clubhouse or not. Patched or unpatched. We clear?” “Yeah, man. Are we good now?” Rock glances at me. “Are you okay?” I just want this over with. Rock’s pulsing with so much anger I’m afraid he’s going to kill this guy. “Yeah, I’m good.” Rock lifts his chin at Peanut. “My RC do that to you?” He flinches but answers, “Yeah.”

Rock glares at him a little longer. “We’re good. Keep away from her, though.” “Okay. Thanks, man.” He flicks his gaze to me. “I really am sorry,” he says before taking off. “Motherfucker,” Rock grumbles under his breath. “Geez, I had no idea Murphy was so—” “Violent?” Rock finishes for me. “Yeah, I guess.” “It’s a hard life. I told you, baby, any one of my brothers would kill to protect you.” “I know. So does that earn Murphy special brownie points with you?” His eyebrows draw down as he considers my question. I was really teasing, but he seems to be contemplating how to answer. “That’s not what it’s about, Hope.” “I know. I was only kidding.” He nods once and pulls me toward the kitchen. A long table takes up one end of the industrial-sized kitchen. Bikers line both sides of the table, but a section at the end seems to have been reserved for us. Z stands up and greets us, even though we just saw him like ten minutes ago. “Prez. First lady.” He pulls out a chair for me. Surprised, I take it. Rock sits at the head of the table. Sway is at the other end. They nod to each other. I don’t see Axel or Hoot anywhere, so I guess prospects don’t get to eat breakfast either. Murphy sets a bottle of water in front of me, and I thank him while uncapping it. After another quick glance around the table, I realize no other women are sitting down yet. There’s water on the table, but not much else. Pushing my chair out, I attempt to stand. “I should go help Tawny.” Rock places his hand over mine, gently squeezing. “You don’t have to.” “It’s okay. We’re guests. Let me at least offer.” He nods and releases me. Before leaving the table, I lean over and brush a kiss on his cheek. His hand curls over my hip, squeezing tight before letting go. The girls are organized with military precision under Tawny’s sharp orders. Everyone seems to have a task. As I approach her, she breaks into a wide smile and motions me closer. “Is there anything I can do to help?” She points at the counter. “Can you bring those jugs of OJ out and set them on the table?” “Sure,” I answer, happy to have something to do. There’s four of them so I grab two in each hand and set each one down at spaced intervals down the table. Sway sort of grunts at me when I set the last one in front of him. Am I supposed to pour it for them too? I almost smack into Tawny as I turn back to the kitchen. “Oh, thank God you at least have a brain in your head. Those dumb bitches would just plop all four of them at one end of the table.” She pats my shoulder. “Go

sit down. We’re almost done. Thanks, honey.” Relieved I seemed to have passed some sort of orange juice intelligence test, I return to my seat. Breakfast here is much like it is at our clubhouse. The guys are rowdy and demolish every last bite. They rib each other and bullshit about their bikes. The guys who haven’t seen each other in a while trade stories and catch up. I don’t have anything to offer to the conversation, so I just enjoy the chatter around me. “You okay?” Rock asks when I set down my fork. I flash a smile at him. “Yup.” When everyone’s finished, Sway declares it’s time for church. “Rock, you and your boys joining us?” He phrases it like a question, but judging by the expression on his face, it’s clearly not optional. This makes me wonder, because as far as I can tell, Sway and Rock are in equal positions of power within the Lost Kings. Sway is older, so he’s probably been a member longer. Maybe that gives him some… sway over Rock. I store that question in the back of my mind for another time. Tawny supervises the girls who clean up breakfast and calls me over. “You gotta keep the bitches in line, Hope,” she informs me. “As the president’s ol’ lady, that’s going to be your most important job.” Huh. I’m not sure how I feel about her acting as if these girls are some sort of servants. “We don’t have as many girls as you do. Trinity seems to be the one doing most of the organizing.” Tawny makes a disgusted face at the mention of Trinity’s name, which automatically raises my hackles. “She’s always had way too much power for a club whore. Never understood why Rock allowed that shit.” I resent her talking about Trinity that way, but I don’t know what to do about it. “I guess there were no old ladies.” “True. But you’re there now, so make sure you put her in her place.” To borrow an expression from my man, like fuck is that happening. But I don’t say that to Tawny. Her opinion doesn’t really matter to me. The only opinion I care about is Rock’s, and I know that’s not how he’d like me to treat Trinity. Even if I had it in me, which I don’t. When she seems satisfied the girls can handle things, she takes me on a tour of their compound. “Sorry about Carla showing up here last night.” I shrug. “No biggie. At least I finally learned her name.” Tawny lets out a brash laugh. “I hope you said that to her.” I let out a snicker of my own. “Yeah, I kinda did.” “Good. She did Rock dirty. She shouldn’t even show her face here, but the club has business with her old man, and unfortunately, she tags along a lot.” Remembering some of the advice Trinity has given me, I bite down any questions I have about the “club business.”

“It’s okay.” “Then Cookie, but since she’s hooked up with our VP, there wasn’t anything I could do about that.” “It’s really okay, Tawny. I spoke to her briefly, and we’re good.” She eyes me skeptically. “You’re going to want to rein in that soft side you got going on there, Hope.” I laugh before I realize she’s serious. “I know. Wrath’s always giving me shit.” She throws back her head and laughs. “I can’t say I miss that big, miserable bastard much.” Hmmm… I don’t think I really like her speaking about him that way either, which surprises me. “You got any kids, Hope?” Wow, that’s a sore subject for me right now. But Tawny doesn’t know that. “Not yet. Do you?” “Yup. Boy and girl.” “Oh, how old?” “Twenty and twenty-two. She’s graduating from college in the spring, and he wants to follow in his dad’s footsteps in the club.” I don’t want to insult her, but I’m genuinely curious. “How do you feel about that?” “I’m proud of him. When he’s old enough, he’ll take over the club for his dad. He’s out on a run right now, or I would have introduced you.” “Was it hard raising two kids in the middle of all this?” She gives me the strangest look, and I wonder if I somehow insulted her. But she can’t really think this is normal, right? “Not at all. Had a big, extended family to help watch them when I needed it.” A family full of criminals. But I keep that to myself. I may have accepted Rock’s life, but could I bring children into this? Knowing their father’s luck might run out one day and he could end up in prison or worse? Knowing the dangerous people he does business with? It’s a chilling thought. “Besides, I’ve never worked outside the club, so I was always around for my kids.” Tawny continues. “Watched a lot of the other club kids over the years too.” “Does your daughter help out at the club a lot?” I get another curious look, and once again, I’m afraid I jammed my foot in my mouth. “No. Her dad don’t let her hang around the club much. Too much shit for his baby girl, ya know?” Uh, yeah. After what we walked into last night, I certainly understand his reasoning. My throat clogs as I think Rock would be the exact same way with a daughter. If I can even give him children.

The chapel at Sway’s compound is a lot larger than our war room at home. Kings from all over are apparently in visiting for the weekend. It’s good to catch up with brothers I haven’t seen in a while. After an hour of bullshitting, Sway slams his gavel and we get to business. Chairs have been added and people have been moved around—which I didn’t ask for—so Z and I are seated near the head of the table. Murphy’s over on one of the couches lining the back wall, and prospects are not invited to church here. Axel has been tasked with shadowing Hope, making sure she stays out of trouble. Sway methodically goes through business that only pertains to his guys. I’m bored and wish I could have skipped this part. When they finish their chapter business, Sway finally gets around to the reason we were asked to sit in. “Got a guy who stole a shipment from us, and we need to retrieve it—tonight.” Fuck. While my charter got out of running guns and harder drugs, this isn’t true of every Lost Kings chapter. Each one is free to decide for themselves how they earn. Sway has apparently decided the risks are worth the rewards. “What are we talking?” I ask. “Three shipping crates. High-end AR-15s.” “They’re illegal in New York now, you know,” I joke. Sway smirks at me. “Don’t worry. We’ll get ‘em registered all proper-like.” Why Sway needs me or my guys involved in this, I don’t know. If either Murphy or Z ain’t feeling it, I won’t force them to tag along on this mission. Sway has a good tip that his shipment is being stored in an old barn about twenty miles west of here. The guy who stole Sway’s shit is either stupid or crazy to be holding it inside Kings’ territory. I point this out to Sway, and he agrees. He’s still convinced it’s where we need to go. “It should be quick and easy. In and out.” If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that… well, I wouldn’t need to be here doing this in the first place. We hash out the plan a little longer, and it’s almost nightfall by the time we finally break. Sway wants us back in the lobby area in thirty minutes, ready to roll out. Four of his guys will be on bikes, the rest of us in vans or trucks. With a nod of my head, I silently ask Z and Murphy to follow me to my room. As my hand curls around the knob, I hesitate. I don’t need Hope overhearing any of this shit. “Where’s your room, Z?”

The fucker gives me a dirty smirk. “Right next to yours, prez,” he answers, pointing at the room to the left. I pin him with a hard stare, daring him to say what he’s clearly dying to say. He shakes his head. I’ve taken all the fun out of it for him. When we’re inside Z’s room, we huddle over the small utilitarian table. I can’t be sure Sway doesn’t have bugs all over this place. “Listen, if either of you are having second thoughts, I’m fine with you backing out.” “Hell fucking no, prez,” Z says emphatically. “Someone needs to watch your back, and I’m sorry, but I don’t trust anyone here to do it.” “Me too.” Murphy agrees. Christ. “I’m not going to be pissed. What he’s asking is risky, and we all know there’s a slim chance it’s going to go down as smoothly as he says it will.” “Sorry, prez, I’m in,” Murphy says. Z just nods. “All right.” Pointing at Murphy, I say, “Go suit up. Don’t stop to fuck around with Serena. Get your vest, check your weapons, and get your head straight.” Z bursts out laughing. Murphy glares at me for a second before leaving the room. When he’s gone, Z turns to me. “You got a bad feelin’ about this, don’t you?” “Yeah. I have a feeling we’re jacking someone else’s stash more than rescuing Sway’s shipment.” “I got that feeling too. So what do you want to do?” “Brother charter. We’ll help him out. Just stay aware.” “Okay.” I slap my hand down on the table. “I need to get ready. You too.” “Yeah, I got it.” Entering our room, I’m surprised to find Hope curled up in the recliner, reading. “How’d you escape Tawny’s clutches?” I ask. I’m on edge, so the question comes out sharp instead of teasing. Hope’s face remains passive as she seems to study me. “She went to visit her daughter, and I didn’t think I should intrude.” Taking her tablet out of her hand and setting it on the table, I pick her up and shift us so she’s in my lap. She loops her arms around my neck and peppers the side of my face with kisses. “Missed you.” “Missed you too. ‘Fraid I’ll be heading back out in a few.” The corners of her mouth twitch down, but she doesn’t protest. “Okay. I’ll be fine.” “Hoot and Axel are staying behind, so if you need anything, ask them.” “Will do. Axel said he’d take me into town later to grab some stuff.” “We’re probably taking the van, babe.” “Oh. No big deal. I’ll be fine. I wanted to find a Wal-Mart or something to grab a swimsuit.”

I groan at the thought of my girl prancing around in so little in front of anyone except me. “Make it a one-piece,” I growl against her ear. She giggles and pushes me away. “Duh. Believe me, I was going to look for a full-on wetsuit.” “Good.” With great reluctance, I nudge her off my lap. “I gotta get ready.” I hesitate because my “getting ready” is going to cause her to ask a lot of questions I can’t answer now. She cocks her head and takes me in. “Do you want me to leave?” she asks with a timid tremor in her voice that pisses me off. Not at her, but at the situation. “No, baby. Stay. No questions, though.” Her lips curve into a smile. “My lips are sealed.” And she’s true to her word. She glances up at the ripping sound of the Velcro as I strap on my Kevlar vest, then goes back to her book. When I rack a bullet into the chamber of my 9mm Glock, she peeks at me again. After a while, I need to shut out her reactions and get my head on straight so I don’t forget anything. Two pistols, extra magazines—fully loaded—knife, burner phone. My phone vibrates to life in my pocket. Pulling it out, I see it’s Murphy. Placing a finger under Hope’s chin, I tip up her face. “I gotta go. Don’t know how late I’ll be.” She braces herself on the arms of the chair and pulls into a standing position. The chair gives her the extra height she needs so we’re at eye level. She wraps herself around me and squeezes, then plants a gentle kiss on my lips. “Be careful.”

Of course I’m freaked out after Rock leaves. It was quite a feat for me to bite my tongue and not ask the thousand questions brewing in my mind. From the fierce expression on his face, something unpleasant was happening, and I didn’t want to do anything to distract him. Making sure my patch is nice and visible, I wander down the hall into the lobby. A few guys are sitting at the bar. Axel turns and walks over as soon as I enter. “Need anything, Hope?” “Dinner maybe? Think we can raid the kitchen?” The corner of his mouth turns up in a lopsided grin. “I don’t see why not.” “Do you know if Tawny’s back?” “Haven’t seen her.”

I’m restless and want to get out of here, but I’m not really sure what to do. In the kitchen, we find cold cuts and fix ourselves sandwiches. Axel tells me some stories about Heidi and her friends that make me laugh. He’s obviously very enamored with her. “Have you talked to her?” “Nah, she knows not to call unless it’s an emergency. We’ve texted a few times. Gonna take her to this movie she’s been wanting to see if we get back early enough tomorrow and Rock doesn’t need me for anything.” He’s so sincere. I make a mental note to ask Rock to give Axel a night off. “Still want to hit up Wal-Mart?” Axel asks when we’re finished. “Rock said they were taking the van.” “They ended up leaving it. Rock said it was okay if I took you.” He did, huh? Interesting. “Yeah, let me grab my purse.” The ride into civilization isn’t as short as Tawny led me to believe. It seems like we’re driving for hours when all of a sudden, the road ahead of us is lit by rows of gaudy big-box stores. Inside the store, Axel follows me around, always on alert. What he’s so worried about, I don’t know. I assume he’s afraid if I break a nail on his watch, Rock will beat the crap out of him. For all I know, that’s the truth. I’m a little embarrassed to stop and paw through swimsuits in front of Axel, but he turns away and pretends to glance around the store as if he senses my hesitation. “I’ll be right back. I want to try this on.” The suit is nothing exciting, but the coverage is as good as I’m going to find tonight. I grab it, a pair of flip-flops, and a big fluffy beach towel as well. Just in case, we stop by the men’s department and I pick out something for Rock. I’m sure it’s a long shot, but I’d like to be prepared. When we return to the clubhouse, Tawny’s hanging out in the lobby—knitting of all things. Perfect, poofed-up, shellacked hair, full makeup, tight jeans, knee boots, glittering belt, and zebra-print fitted shirt… and she’s knitting. She belongs in a magazine. Something like Domestic Biker Queen. I don’t laugh, though. I’m not completely stupid. “Let me toss this in our room and I’ll be right back, Tawny.” She glances up. “Sure.” Axel walks me to the room and waits while I pitch the bags on the bed and grab my vest. Once I have my patch on, Axel seems a little less anxious. He walks me back to the lobby. “You okay here, Hope?” he asks. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He pats my shoulder. “I’ll come check on you in a bit.” Another woman I don’t recognize has joined Tawny. I find out her name is Grace, but I haven’t really determined her position in the club. Since Tawny’s actually

speaking to her, I assume she’s not a club girl. We talk about knitting—of all things—and I learn this tough, hard, scary biker lady knits tiny little blankets for the local animal shelter. Seriously. “Since I can’t smoke anymore, gives me something to do with my hands while I’m waitin’ on Sway to get his ass home,” she explains. “They certainly don’t keep conventional hours,” I say with a nervous snort of laughter. Tawny glances up and flashes a tight smile. “No. They don’t.” We talk about knitting for a while, and she even shows me how to cast on and a few stitches. I’m terrible at it, though. “I’ve never been able to pick it up either, Hope. Don’t feel bad,” Grace assures me. As it gets later and later, I start to worry about the guys but doubt it’s a good idea to ask any questions. Grace leaves, and I still never figure out her connection to the club. The front door opens, blowing cold air over us. Both of us turn, and I’m expecting the guys to storm in, but it’s an older man in a wool coat. And Carla. Goddammit. He’s carrying a black doctor bag, and Tawny jumps up immediately. “What’s wrong, Barry?” “Nothing. Here to check on the other two.” Tawny drops back down next to me. “Yeah, okay.” She glares at Carla but doesn’t say anything. Barry whispers something in Carla’s ear, but she shakes her head. He doesn’t seem to need directions. Without speaking to any of us, he takes off around the corner. Carla pulls a chair over next to me. Why me? “Hi—Hope, right?” My mouth twitches up into a nervous smile and I nod. “Sorry we didn’t get to talk much last night.” As if I spent the day worrying about it. “No problem.” Tawny snorts. “Don’t press your luck, Carla.” “So have you guys set a date yet?” she asks. Jeez. Are we really doing this? “Not yet.” “You been married before?” Pain pierces my heart and must show on my face. Tawny settles her hand on my leg. “Yes. I was.” Then I rush to amend. “I’m a widow. It’s—” Next to me, Tawny sucks in a deep breath. “Shit, Hope.” Carla hasn’t said anything. She just continues watching, waiting for me to finish.

“It’s been awhile. Well, not really, almost two years, but—” I babble like an idiot, completely uncomfortable revealing so much of myself to complete strangers. “Was he an outlaw too?” Carla asks. The tone she uses is neutral, but my skin still prickles. An image of Clay—neat, buttoned-down shirts and pressed khakis—flashes in my mind. “No, he was an engineer,” I answer with a sad smile. Carla sneers at me. “So how the hell did you and my ex-husband meet?” The possessive way she talks about my man ticks me off so much I’m slow with a response. By the time I open my mouth to answer, Tawny beats me to it. “She’s a lawyer and she represented him in court.” Carla has the nerve to roll her eyes. “Oh yeah. Let me guess—he got himself arrested.” My jaw clenches, but I’m not sure what to say to that. Because it’s the truth. Tawny jumps up and jabs her finger in Carla’s direction. “You shut the fuck up. Don’t you dare disrespect one of the brothers under my roof. You know damn well what you’re in for when you marry into the club. You’re supposed stand by your man, not stab him in the back.” Carla is a brave soul—or feels Barry has enough juice to protect her from Tawny. She stands and takes a step back but unfortunately doesn’t keep her mouth shut. “I was twenty-two years old. He could have gone in forever. I was supposed to just sit around and pray he got out?” Then she turns to me. “Do you actually understand what you’re in for?” “I know I love Rock, and I wouldn’t try to fuck his friends while he was going through a difficult time,” I answer evenly. Tawny settles her hand on my shoulder and gives me a gentle squeeze. I choose to interpret it as an “I’m proud of you” gesture. Carla stares daggers at me. “Well, that’s precious. You know he—” “Don’t say another fuckin’ word to her, Carla,” Tawny warns. “She doesn’t know, does she?” Carla asks with a smirk. I assume she’s talking about the three-ways with Wrath. “How’s his best friend?” she sneers. Yup. Wrath. “Wrath? He’s laid up with a broken leg so he’s a little crankier than usual,” I answer calmly. Carla’s jaw drops a bit. “He doesn’t share you, does he?” “No. And before you decide to educate me, he already told me.” “Yeah, I’m sure he did.” Tawny takes another step toward Carla. “Don’t you fucking dare. I can’t count how many times I caught your whoring ass going after one of the guys. You were doing that shit well before Rock went inside.” “Carla,” Barry calls from the hallway, “I could use your help.” Carla stares at me for a second before following him.

After she’s gone, I shake my head and sit back down. “Sorry, Hope,” Tawny says, and she does actually seem sorry. “Oh, I’m used to dealing with Rock’s exes by now,” I joke with a wave of my hand. I’m not really in a joking mood, so it sounds pitiful. I don’t want to deal with any of this. Their history is so ancient it should be buried and they should both move the fuck on. But Carla seems content playing victim. Tawny twists her wrist to look at her watch. “I’ll be right back, Hope.” She’s gone for a while. I’m tired and want to go to bed, but I don’t want to be rude either. The blonde Murphy spent time with last night saunters into the lobby. She approaches me slowly. “Hope, right?” she asks. She’s a pretty girl. Like stunning pretty. Tall, willowy figure, long Barbie legs, thick, flowing blond hair, cute-as-a-button face. Why she spends her time servicing guys here instead of modeling in New York or something I can’t fathom. She points to the spot Tawny just vacated. “Do you mind if I sit?” I don’t, so I tell her to go ahead. She turns and gestures at my phone, which I’m clutching in my hands. “Have you heard from any of the guys?” “Not yet.” “Oh.” We’re silent for a while before she braves another question. “Did Rock patch you recently?” My mouth automatically curves into a smile, remembering the afternoon. “Yes.” “Was it a surprise?” “Kind of. He explained it to me first. So I wouldn’t be offended, I think,” I add. She tilts her head at me like she’s trying to make sense of that. “Why would you be offended?” “I, uh, didn’t know much about this—” I wave my hands in the air. “Before I met Rock.” She still seems confused, but she laughs. “If I could get one of the brothers to patch me, I’d never take it off.” This strikes me as really sad, especially because from what I’ve been able to gather, the more brothers you sleep with, the less likely it is one will make you his ol’ lady. I keep this to myself, though, and end up smiling awkwardly instead. “What do you do, Serena?” “Um, I tend bar and I’m taking a few classes at the community college. I was thinking of transferring up to Hudson Valley…” That’s in our area. If she’s trying to hint that I should put in a good word for her with Murphy, I’m afraid she’s out of luck. “They have a lot of good programs.” I nod. “Um, does Murphy have any regular girls at your place?”

Well, at least she’s smart enough to know subtlety won’t work with me. “I honestly don’t know, Serena. I don’t really pay attention.” And it’s true. I only know about Wrath and Trinity’s… whatever the hell they’re doing, because, well, how could I not? Z, I only know about because he’s had some weird on-again, off-again thing with one of my friends. Sure, I’ve accidentally seen plenty of things that required a good dose of brain bleach, but I try not to dwell on any of it. I don’t mention Heidi because she’s a kid, and I don’t know what the hell’s going on there either. I had a perfect opportunity alone with Murphy this morning to say something, but I was so damn flustered I let it slip. “I don’t blame you,” she says with a laugh. “How long have you been hanging out here?” “‘Bout a year or two. I was trying to model down in the city, but it was too expensive to live on what I was making—” My brain-to-mouth filter is obviously on the fritz, because I let out a snort. Her face turns down as if I insulted her, and I feel bad. Reaching out, I gently pat her leg. “Sorry. It’s just when I first saw you, I thought you must be a model or actress or something.” That seems to cheer her up. She sits up a little straighter and grins at me. “Oh. Thanks. Yeah. I got a few commercials. But it’s so competitive. And you have to live with like fifteen people in tiny little shitbox apartments to survive. I was seeing a guy down there in another club, came up here with him for a party, and just decided to stick around.” City living has never appealed to me for the exact reasons she just listed. “I can understand that.” “Are you really a lawyer?” I chuckle before answering. “Yeah.” “Do you like it?” “Not really.” She nods, and I’m surprised with myself for admitting it, especially to a stranger. “Isn’t there a lonely cock somewhere you should be servicing?” Tawny snaps when she returns to find Serena in her seat. Poor Serena jumps up like she’s been stung. “Bye, Hope. Nice talking to you.” And she scurries off without another word. Tawny shakes her head and makes a big show of dusting off the couch cushion Serena just vacated. “Sorry ‘bout that.” “No problem. She seems like a sweet girl.” Tawny raises a thinly penciled-on eyebrow. “Yeah, sweet until you find her sucking your man’s dick.” Well. Wow. I don’t know what to say to that. “Your man?” Crap, why did I have to say that. Tawny smirks. “Don’t worry. I get mine.” Yuck. I’ve overheard the words loyalty and brotherhood multiple times this

weekend, yet none of these guys seem to stay loyal to their wives. Despite all the women from his past I’ve had to confront, I’ve never worried about Rock cheating on me. Does that make me gullible… or loyal?

Z, Murphy, and I ride with Sway, so we’re not able to talk much. They each gave me an affirmative nod before getting in the truck. We’re an ominous caravan of bikes, two heavy-duty four-wheel-drive trucks, and one van. Seems like a lot for a job that’s supposed to be so simple. “Two of my guys are down because of these fucks. We see any of them, leave them to me.” I’m still not buying the story, but I give him the answer he’s looking for anyway. “No problem.” At the end of a long dirt driveway, we all stop. The guys on bikes get off and hop in the back of our truck. Two guys stay behind, while the rest of us take the long, slow drive up to the barn. There’s no house that I can see. Just a massive old barn looming up ahead. Lots of trees. Too many fucking trees for my taste. Too many places for people to wait in ambush. I’m really hating this shit. Sway tucks the truck up tight against the barn. Personally, I would have parked it pointed toward the escape route, but that’s just me. At least the rest of the guys do a perimeter sweep of the trees and circle around the building. Sway’s men aren’t completely useless. After getting out and taking a look around, Sway takes a pair of bolt cutters to the heavy padlock on the front door. Inside smells like the shit of a thousand horses, and I choke back a coughing fit. Z’s got his nose buried in his shirt collar, and Murphy gags. “Fuck me, that’s disgusting,” Sway says, also holding his shirt over his nose. It’s nothing but a dark abyss inside until guys start pulling out cell phones and flashlights. I pull out my own penlight, and we get to work. Suddenly, it’s very clear why we needed so many vehicles for this job. There’s not three crates of weapons. There’s about thirty. “Guess we’re not the only ones they been jacking,” Sway notes. Great. “Find our supply first. Then we’ll split up everything else.” The air fills with the sound of metal on wood as crates are busted open.

Z shrugs and steps back to the door to keep watch. Murphy looks to me for direction, and I give him a chin lift to let him know he’s fine where he is. “What are we looking for, Sway?” “Twenty-five LWRC IC-PDWs.” Christ, he wasn’t kidding about high-end. Or highly illegal. Those types of ultra-compact personal defense weapons are most definitely banned in New York. Again, I wonder where the hell they got jacked. “Also looking for crates of Ranier uppers.” “No lowers,” I joke. What the fuck is he planning to build with uppers and nothing else? “Not this drop.” Fucking hell. With a nod to Murphy, we join the others in busting open crates, searching through shit. Some of the weapons are in cases inside the crates; others are not. On my fourth crate, I think I’ve got something. “Sway,” I call. He jogs over, and with one glance inside the box, his face breaks into a grin. “Fuckin’ A, that’s our shit.” He slaps me on the back and runs over to confer with his sergeant-at-arms. Next, they’re throwing open the big barn doors and backing his truck inside. We get the crate I found and three others loaded into Sway’s truck and covered with a tarp. “Take whatever else you can. Then let’s burn this mother to the ground,” Sway announces to the group. Awesome—guess we’re adding arson to tonight’s list of felonies. Murphy cracks open a crate of ammo, something that’s also hard to come by in New York these days. “Grab that,” I tell him. Z motions me over to three cases. Inside each one is a foliage-green Noveske Johnny Rifle. “Wrath will shit himself.” Z snickers. “Grab ‘em.” The grab-and-go party seems to be winding down. There’s not another inch of available space in any of the vehicles. “They don’t got no surveillance on this place?” Z asks. Because that’s his specialty, naturally he notices. “We had it taken care of earlier,” Sway answers. Oh, how comforting. The shot that rings out is also not comforting. Pulling my piece, I crouch down. Don’t even have to say a word—Murphy and Z have done the same. “Prez, tha fuck?” Z whispers. I shake my head, silencing him. Sway crab-walks over to me and puts up two fingers. Whether he’s telling me there’s two shooters or he wants me to do something in two seconds I have no fuckin’ clue. The stench of gasoline is thick in the air.

There’s a struggle and shouting from the side of the building. “Prez! Clear!” one of Sway’s guys shouts. Still have a bad feeling about this. “Stay down,” I mouth to Z. Another shot blows through the night. Someone’s window shatters. Not so clear after all. “Fuck!” Sway shouts from somewhere around the van. “Keys?” I ask Murphy. He shrugs and points toward the direction Sway went. Fuckin’ great.

Tawny’s phone buzzes. She glances at me and leaves the room without a word. That’s not reassuring. Then Carla returns. Fantastic. “Had to help Barry with one of his patients,” she explains, as if I give a crap. Except… wait, what? My question must be written all over my face. “He’s the club’s doctor.” “That must be awkward for you,” I retort with a bit of snark. She curls her lips into a nasty smirk. “At least I don’t worry about him going to prison all the time.” “Yeah, because treating outlaws off the books is risk-free.” That shuts her up, but not long enough for my taste. “So you don’t mind all the strippers and club whores?” she asks. I cock my head to the side and pin her with a fierce stare. “I trust Rock.” She snorts. “God help you.” “You realize it’s been years since you two were together, right? You don’t know anything about him anymore.” Her mouth opens and closes. “You’re probably right,” she finally says. Her eyes dart to the space behind me before she opens her mouth again. The confrontational bitch face she had on has softened. “I felt safe with him.” I’m intimately acquainted with that feeling. “I never had that before. When he got arrested, I was terrified. Fucking Tawny and those other bitches… Well, I guess they’re made of stronger stuff.” Her words are like a fist in my gut. I know damn well I’m not as tough as Tawny. But I also know I don’t have it in me to do what Carla did. My gaze drops to my hands twisting together in my lap.

“I was happy he got out as quick as he did. But I knew I couldn’t go back. Rock’s not big on forgiveness.” I don’t think I’d be real forgiving either. “You got friends outside the club, Hope?” “Of course.” “Hang on to them. You and Rock ever part ways, the club pretty much shuns you.” “You deserted your husband at one of the worst possible times. What did you think they were going to do for you, Carla? Hold your hand and bake you cookies?” Before she answers, her husband interrupts. “I’m going to need your assistance. Something happened. They’re bringing one of the guys back now.” I shoot up off the couch. “What? Who?” Barry’s startled gaze flicks over me. “Hope,” Tawny calls. “Rock’s fine.” I didn’t even notice her standing behind him. Axel wanders in and raises an eyebrow at me. Tawny nods. “Go on, honey. The guys should be back soon.” I’m exhausted. But also worried. Clearly, Tawny wanted me out of the way for some reason. As soon as we’re alone, I ask Axel what he knows. “Nothing. They wouldn’t tell me stuff like that.” Guilt prods me into another line of questioning. “Are you going to find a bed to sleep in tonight, Axel?” He stops and turns to me, obviously shocked. “I wouldn’t cheat on Heidi.” “That’s not how I meant it, sorry.” “Oh, okay. I just don’t want you thinking I’m like the rest of them. Heidi’s special. I wouldn’t screw that up.” I’m not sure what he means by “the rest of them,” since none of the other guys have girlfriends that I know of. Unless he means sticking their dicks in anything with boobs and a pulse. Because, yeah, that seems to be the way a lot of the brothers operate. “I know. You’re a good guy, Axel.” He brightens at the compliment. “Thanks. Are you okay for the night? Need anything from the kitchen?” “I’m all set. Thank you.” “Okay. I got my phone on, so if you need anything, just text me, okay?” “Will do.” Inside our room, I find my cell phone and check it. Nothing from Rock. I do have a message from Trinity. Everything good? It’s late, but I text her back anyway.

So far. I get a smiley face back from her. Rock, where the hell are you?

More shots ring out. This night sure went to shit fast. Shouts and gunfire echo around us, then die down. It’s fucking dark, and I have no goddamn idea what the hell we followed Sway into. “Prez?” Z whispers, and I turn his way. Other than a few shouts and rustling, things seem to have calmed down—well, except for the fucker sneaking up behind Z. I don’t have time to warn him. Don’t even think about what I’m doing. My body snaps into autopilot in reaction to the threat against my brother. My gun is already in my hand. Everything happens in slow motion even though it’s over fast. I aim, finger already touching the trigger, and squeeze. Too late, though. My bullet hits him in the chest and he goes down. From where I’m standing, I can’t tell if he’s down for good. But I’m close enough to see Z’s been hit. “Murph!” I point at the guy, and Murphy runs over to secure the threat. “Z! Fuck, brother, you okay?” I reach him quick and take in his pain-twisted face. “Fuuuck! Goddammit.” He’s holding his arm. “That fucking hurts,” he growls as I approach. Not the first time one of my brothers has taken a bullet in front of me. Doesn’t make it any easier. “Let me see,” I say, grabbing his arm. “Ow, watch it, ya fuck.” By the amount of bitching he’s doing, I think he’ll be fine. “Grazed your arm. Still gonna need stitches.” Murphy hands over a strip of cloth, and we bandage Z’s arm the best we can. I nod at Murphy. “Go find Sway.” This fuckin’ mess is gonna take forever to clean up, but I want Z taken care of right the fuck now. “Shit, guys. You okay, man?” Sway calls out as he jogs over. “It’s nothing,” Z answers.

“Probably needs stitches,” I add. Sway pulls out his phone and calls the clubhouse. “Babe, need you to keep Doc there…” Sway wanders off to finish his conversation. I pull out my phone and send a message to Axel. Headed back. Make sure Hope is in our room. Although it’s not a serious injury, I do not need Hope seeing this. On it, Axel replies. “Prez, I’m really fine,” Z says, standing in front of me. “I know.” “Let’s finish up here. Then I’ll see the doc.” “Yeah, okay.” Finishing up takes too long for my taste. Altogether, Sway’s got four bodies to add to the barn that’s about to go up in flames. Even though we’re in the middle of nowhere, the fire can be seen in the rearview for some distance. “All volunteer fire departments out here. By the time someone sees it and calls it in, it’s done,” Sway explains on our way back. “So much for ‘quick and easy, in and out,’ right, brother?” I say. Is that disrespectful? Probably. Do I give a fuck right now? No. “Yeah, that was unexpected.” Sway agrees. It’s as close to an apology as I’ll get from him. I’m fuckin’ furious by the time we get back to the clubhouse. “Prez, really, I’m fine,” Z assures me again. I know I’m actin’ like a pissy little bitch. And I know this is the risk we all take doing what we do. But still, knowing that a few inches here or there and we’d be having a different conversation—or no conversation at all—is getting to me. We lost a lot of our brothers in the early days. And since then, I’ve worked hard to keep my guys whole. “You know Carla’s husband is the club’s doc, right, prez?” Z asks. “Be happy it’s me gettin’ treated, not you. She’d probably ask him to stitch your mouth shut.” My brother, who just had a bullet go through him, is trying to cheer me up. Fucking wonderful. “Keep it up and I’ll ask him to sew your mouth shut,” I snap back. He grins at my retort and slaps me on the back. “Go make sure Hope’s okay.” “Yeah. Call me if you need something.” “I will.” “I’ll stay with him, prez,” Murphy assures me. On my way to our room, I check in with Hoot and Axel. Satisfied they’ve managed to stay out of trouble, I head for our room. I pray like fuck Hope’s already asleep. I need a shower. I fuckin’ reek. Plus, my head’s still messed up from this entire shit show of a night.

I need to see my girl, though. If nothing else, I need to wrap myself around something pure and good.

I’m freaking out by the time Rock finally returns to our room. At first, he steps inside with caution, but once he sees I’m awake, his steps become firmer. “Hey,” he tosses out. “Hi. I’ve been worried about you.” Whoops. I was trying to keep myself from saying that, not wanting to add to his stress. He gives me a hard look but doesn’t say anything. After kicking off his boots, he strides into the bathroom. A few seconds later, I hear the shower squeak to life. I want to go to him, but I’m not in the mood for sexy shower games, and something tells me Rock wants to be alone. So I stay in bed and wait. He steps out in just a towel wrapped around his lean hips. It’s a struggle not to stare at every glorious inch available to my gaze. For once, he seems indecisive as he stands there. Finally, he takes out some clothes and slips into them. The bed dips low as he sits next to me, rolling my body forward. “You okay?” he asks. “Ye—” He cuts me off before I even get a word out. “Besides being worried. Anyone bother you tonight?” “No.” “Good.” He reaches over and snaps off the light, plunging us into darkness. “Scoot,” he says, giving me a gentle shove. Blowing out an exasperated breath, I move, and he cuddles me close. “Cold?” he asks. “Yeah.” Safe in his arms, I allow my body to relax against him. He buries his nose in my hair, his lips kissing the top of my head. “Missed my girl.” “Missed you too.” A million thoughts and questions run through my mind, but I don’t give voice to any of them. Rock seems to sense it anyway. “Tell me what you did today.” “Talked with Tawny. A lot.” My eye roll is lost in the dark. He chuckles softly. “How was that?” Paranoid of being overheard, I turn in his arms. Our foreheads touch. “She’s

complex. She was nice to me, but she’s so… hard,” I whisper. “Is that what you want me to turn into? Is that what I’m going to be in ten, fifteen years?” He hugs me tighter. “No, baby. That’s not what I want at all.” One hand runs over my hair and down my back. “I deal with enough shit. I’m hard enough for both of us. Tawny thrives on drama and the power trip of being the prez’s ol’ lady. I don’t have the patience for that type of woman. Never have. Don’t get me wrong. She’s good for Sway. Makes her a fine ol’ lady here. But I’ve never wanted that.” His words are soft but earnest, and my heart beats wildly as I continue to listen. “At the end of the day, I want to shut all that bad shit out. Just be myself with my girl. Like this. Like we are right now.” Oh. My. God. I think that’s one of the deepest things Rock’s ever admitted to me, and I squirm to get closer to him. Rock isn’t finished, though. “You love me for me, Hope. You’re not with me to be queen of an MC. You’re with me for me.” He speaks the words so low I almost don’t hear him. It’s on the tip of my tongue to crack a joke. You know, like I never knew what an MC was before I met Rock, so how could I aspire to be queen of something I didn’t know existed? But I hang on to the stupid comment. Instead, I tell him something I think he needs to hear. “That’s true,” I say, running my hand over his cheek. “I like you too, you know. Always have. And I’d want to be with you no matter what you did.” He kisses my forehead. “I know, Baby Doll.” “What happened tonight, Rock?” “Nothin’ I want to talk about right now.” Nothing he wants to talk about. Not can’t. It’s a subtle difference, but I feel the power of it. I snuggle closer, tucking my head under his chin, listening to his heart thump. “Carla didn’t show up again, did she?” Rock asks after a while. “Yes, she came with Barry. I guess he acts as a doctor for the club?” He nods against me. “She bother you?” I’m not sure how to answer. Nothing she said bothered me. “At first, she was claws out. Tawny set her straight. She has some strong opinions about the way Carla treated you,” I tell him. He snorts. “I’m sure she does. Tawny takes this life seriously.” I hesitate. “Really? Because I got the impression she and Sway fuck around on each other.” Rock sighs. “I don’t get into their personal shit anymore. But Sway never had an ounce of self-control.” “So what’s with all the loyalty these guys are always talking about?” “Loyalty to the club, Hope. If Tawny’s fuckin’ around, she ain’t fuckin’ brothers.” I take a second to let that sink in. “Hope? You know that’s not who I am, right?” Guilt for the sliver of doubt I had earlier crawls through me. “Yes.”

“Made plenty of mistakes in my life. Losing you won’t be one of them.” “Carla thought she was going to shock me by telling me about… stuff. I basically told her to get over herself. You’re both different people today.” “That’s an understatement.” He chuckles and runs his hand over my hair. After a beat, I ask the question that’s been on my mind since she showed up. “What did you see in her when you met?” The question seems to startle him. “Who the fuck knows?” Even though I can’t see him that well, I draw back so we’re sort of nose to nose. “Come on, I’m curious.” Warm, minty breath wafts over my face as he sighs. “She came across as soft and in need of protection. Had a tough situation growing up, and I think the message she got was to take everything she could and glom on to the first guy who could support her.” I think about Axel and Hoot’s lowly positions in the club. “Weren’t you a prospect when you met?” “Yeah, but it was still an MC. The danger of it all excited her. When the time came it looked like I would take over as president, she really sank her claws into me. Then it looked like it might be Z, so she went at him.” “Jesus.” “When we first met, Carla had a bit of vulnerability about her that reminded me of my mother.” Oh, wow. Rock’s never talked to me about his mother before. “You’ve never told me about her.” Against my forehead, I feel him smile. “She was fun. I didn’t think about it when I was a kid, but she had me really young. Got married right out of high school, so she was almost a kid herself. She read to me every day, and I loved the sound of her voice.” He snorts. “I lied and told her they hadn’t taught us to read in school yet so she wouldn’t stop reading to me.” “Oh, Rock, that’s so sweet.” “You know, when I started school, I was the biggest kid in the classroom. I’d fight anyone who picked on me about it too. I don’t think she knew what to do with me, so she told me how God made me big so I could protect people who were smaller than me.” Holy hell, my heart hurts for him. “Wow. That’s a big burden to place on a little boy.” He’s silent for so long I start to worry. I didn’t mean to sound so judgmental of his dead mother. Dammit, I can’t do anything right. “I never thought about it like that. But yeah, you’re probably right.”

I don’t think about it often, but my mother grew up Catholic. Every Sunday morning, she took me to church with her. My father had no use for that crap, but she wanted me to have the experience, I guess. Once in a while, she’d order me to sit outside one of these little rooms tucked in the back of the church and disappear inside for what she told me was confession. She explained if you confessed your sins, God took them away from you. I never grasped the concept. Until this second. Talking to Hope in the dark this way, after everything that went down tonight, is an unburdening of sorts. After my mother’s funeral, I never set foot inside a church again. Hope relaxes against me. “You should get some sleep, baby. We’ve got a long trip tomorrow.” She nods, her nose brushing against my skin. “I’m so happy we’re going home.” I love hearing her say that. I want nothing more than to build a home and a life with her. “Tawny talked some smack about Trinity and even Wrath today. I had to stop myself from clocking her,” she murmurs. Laughter rumbles out of me. “Oh yeah?” “Yeah.” Her breathing deepens as she slips into sleep, and I enjoy the feel of her in my arms. All the bad shit from the day keeps running through my head. Z getting shot. The acrid stench of smoke still fills my nose. Despite the violent scrub-down I gave myself in the shower, I swear I still smell death and fire on my skin. It’s a long time before I fall asleep. So I lie there enjoying the feel of Hope in my arms. I’m so thankful I made it back to my girl.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I wake early to find Hope staring at me. “What’s wrong, baby?”

A smile plays at the corners of her mouth. My girl’s up to something. After all the serious shit we’ve talked about and the tension on this trip, I’m relieved to wake up and find her smiling. “I want to go for a swim.” Huh. Not what I expected, but okay. Not at the top of my list of things to do this morning, but if that’s what my girl wants, I’m down for it. “Get your scuba suit?” She chuckles. “No. I did the best I could.” Throwing back the blankets, I trudge into the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face to wake the fuck up. When I return, Hope’s already in her suit. It’s one piece and nothing special, but on Hope, it’s stunning. White and snug in all the right places. “You look pretty in white,” I tell her before kissing her cheek. “Thank you.” “Gonna be one hell of a pretty bride.” Christ that’s something I’m looking forward to. The remark seems to startle her. Her mouth twitches. “I… I didn’t think I should wear white again,” she stammers out. I don’t give a fuck if she shows up in rags as long as she shows up. “Doll, you’ll be beautiful no matter what you’re wearing.” Some of the awkwardness seems to melt from her face, and she gestures to the swim shorts she’s got laid out for me. They’re black camo with skulls, and that amuses me. I plant a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you.” When I’m ready, I turn and eye her outfit. “Put your patch on.” She seems surprised but does it without question. I grab my phone and her towel and lead her out the door. I’ve been here before, but the pool is stashed in some alternate fucking dimension. Of course, any helpful signs the hotel might have once had up have long been taken down and replaced with lewd biker posters.

It doesn’t take long before the scent of chlorine confirms we’re on the right path. The pool is deserted, but it appears crystal clear. Nothing too disgusting floating in the water. “Tawny said she does fifty laps every night, so the prospects maintain the pool very well,” Hope says as if she’d been reading my mind. “Fifty, huh? No wonder she never ages.” Hope slants a curious look at me. She can’t seriously be jealous. I shake my head at her. The water is almost too warm for my comfort, like swimming in soup. But Hope seems to enjoy herself. She swims lazy laps back and forth while I watch her from the side. After a while, she swims over to me and throws her arms around my neck. I push away from the wall and she wraps her legs around my waist. Now this I can get used to. I twirl and spin her around in the water. She leans back, gliding her hands over the surface. I don’t think she realizes that arching her back like that puts her perfect breasts on display, her hard nipples straining against the flimsy white fabric of her suit. Shifting my arms against her back, I pull her up out of the water and lean down to close my mouth over one nipple. Her stunned little gasp gets me even more worked up. I knew I should have brought condoms down with me. “Morning, fuckers.” Sway. Hope wriggles her body under the water, pressing herself tight against me. Shielding her from Sway’s pervy gaze, I turn us. “What up, brother?” I grouch at him. Glancing up, it’s clear he’s not here for a swim lesson. “Need your help sorting through shit from last night.” “Yeah, okay. Give me a few minutes.” “No problem. Morning, Hope,” Sway calls out with a leer. Hope chuckles against me and unwraps one of her arms from my waist to wave at Sway. “Morning!” Once he finally leaves—prick was sticking around a little too long for my taste— I pull Hope away. “Sorry, Baby Doll.” She curls her hands over my shoulder and uses the weightlessness of the water to jump and wrap her legs around my waist. “It’s okay.” “You can’t stay down here by yourself.” She wraps her arms around my neck and leans in to kiss me. “I know. Take me back to our room.” She’s killing me. Growling a lot of unhappy words, I carry her out of the water. Next to our chairs, she unwinds herself and slides down my body, really not helping the situation in my swim trunks. “Hope,” I warn. My flirty girl strokes my dick through my shorts with the palm of her hand. “Oh my,” she whispers.

“Keep it up. That ass of yours is begging for my hand.” Flirty girl vanishes, and suddenly, she’s all business. “Morning, guys,” Z calls out. Now I understand why she got so serious all of a sudden. “Morning, Z,” she chirps. She glances up at me, one corner of her mouth turning up, letting me know she’s still feeling playful. I plant a kiss on her forehead before turning to check on Z. “How you feeling today, brother?” His eyes dart to Hope before he answers. “Good.” “Ready to head home?” Hope asks. “Fuck, yes.” She giggles and reaches out to pat his arm as she passes, but he flinches. My girl misses nothing. She cocks her head at him. “You okay?” “Yeah, eager to get on the road.” “Come on, doll. Time to pack up.” She laces her fingers with mine and we walk back to our room, Z following behind. When we get to the room, Hope goes in first. “Sway wants us out back to sort through the shit we brought back—” “Yeah, yeah, I saw him. Seriously, you okay? Barry fix you up?” “Yeah, it was nothing. Fucking stings and I’m sore, but I didn’t want to take the painkillers he gave me yet. I wanna get on the road.” “Okay. You and Murphy take the van out back. You know which shit is ours. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be down.” Z smirks. “Sorry I interrupted.” “Shut up.” But my words have no effect because I’m laughing. Inside, Hope hums to herself as she packs up our stuff. She’s got everything laid out on the bed while she folds clothes and stuffs them into our bags. “I’ll get my things, babe. You don’t have to—” “It’s okay. I know you need to meet—” Fuck me, she’s still in that white suit, nipples poking against the flimsy, damp fabric. Before I even know what I’m doing, she’s in my arms and I’m pinning her up against the wall. Worried eyes stare up at me. “Rock?” My mouth brushes against her ear. “What’s the matter? Can’t finish what you started out there?” Her body relaxes in my grasp, and she giggles softly. “You’re not going to be laughing in a minute.” “Oh yeah?” she sasses. “Yes, my pretty little fuckdoll.” I smile down at her, watching my words sink in, her pupils dilate, the feel of her body relaxing even farther into my hold. Grabbing her hands, I pin them over her head. She squirms, arching her back, thrusting her breasts in my face, circling her

hips. Tightening my grasp around her wrists, I touch my forehead to hers. “How much do you like this suit?” “Why?” Looking directly into her eyes so I can enjoy every little reaction from her, I press my chest into her breasts. “Let me tell you what’s about to happen.” I run my fingertip over her collarbone, down between her breasts, tugging the material away from her skin. “I’m going to rip this skimpy thing off your body.” To do so, I need both hands. “Don’t move,” I growl as I fist the material and yank. A satisfying tearing rips through the air, along with a gasp from Hope. The knife I always keep stashed in my pocket opens with a soft snick. Hope’s eyes widen. “Don’t move,” I warn her again. Each strap cuts cleanly, and the bathing suit falls down her body. I raise an eyebrow at her, and she wriggles so the suit falls all the way to the floor. With one toe, she flicks it away. “Good girl,” I whisper. “Can I move now?” she asks with only a hint of sass this time. “No.” I set the knife on the nightstand and snag a condom from the drawer. Her eyelids flutter shut. “Look at me.” I place one hand over her wrists again, pressing her body against the wall with my hips. She strains against me. “Rock,” she moans. My mouth crashes against hers, swallowing her words. I slip my tongue in her mouth, stroking and tasting my woman. She struggles a little, but I’m enjoying her at my mercy too much to let her go yet. My hand squeezes her hip, pulling her to me. She spreads her legs, inviting me to push one finger deep into her pussy. “Ah! Rock, please.” Love it. Love the way she begs. “I’m going to roll that condom down my dick, then squeeze inside your tight little pussy that I can’t ever seem to get enough of and pound you into that wall until you come.” Then I do everything I promised. My time with Hope wasn’t nearly as long as I needed. But I’m eager to get home. Z, Murphy, Sway, and his guys have the guns and ammo sorted. Sway looks over the stuff my guys have laid out for us to take home. Clearing my throat, I ask, “Something wrong, brother?” “No, just a specific order.” I raise an eyebrow. “Take ‘em. Christ, I owe you a hell of a lot more than that after last night,” he says, pointing at Z.

“Rock,” Tawny calls out from behind me. Sway doesn’t bat an eye as she sashays over. She surveys the guns and ammunition with a bland expression. Sway nods at his guys to help Murphy load our van. “Hope’s a good woman for you,” Tawny says out of nowhere. Curious, I face her. A quick smile flickers over her red lips. “Seems to love ya a whole lot. Got pissed when Carla started running her mouth, but put that bitch in her place quick. Being a lawyer, she’s more of a fight with her words kinda gal. But you never did like us scrappy types,” she says with a laugh. I laugh with her because it’s true, and it’s an amusing observation coming from Tawny. “I like you fine, Tawny. You’re a good woman.” She smirks. “At least someone thinks so,” she says, glaring at Sway. “You two okay?” This time she shrugs. “He’s never kept his dick in his pants. I knew that going in. But he’s gotten sloppier. Doesn’t bother tryin’ to hide—never mind, Rock.” “Sorry, hon.” Her eyes widen in surprise. “You always were a good one. If you’d been a little older when we met, I woulda ditched him for you in a heartbeat.” I try not to shudder visibly at the image that presents. She gives me a quick hug. “You take good care of her. She’s a nice girl.” “I plan to.”

After he took me hard and fast against the wall of our room, Rock spent a considerable amount of time outside, getting things situated with the guys for the ride back. I have no idea what that meant, and I didn’t ask. Tawny hugged me and told me I was welcome back anytime, which filled me with some pride. I doubt she says that to everyone who passes through her clubhouse. Still, I’ve never been so happy to get on the back of Rock’s bike. We make the two-hour trip back with no stops. Trinity meets us at the door with a happy expression. “I’m so glad you’re back!” Z gives her a peck on the cheek. “Big bastard behave himself?” “No,” Trinity answers without elaborating. “I heard that,” Wrath grumbles from behind the door. After we tumble inside, I throw my arms around Trinity for a quick hug.

Wrath meets my eyes over her shoulder. “Cinderella, you survived,” he says with a happy smirk. Rock gives Wrath one of their manly bro-hug-handshakes, then smacks him on the back of the head. “Don’t be a dick. She was ready to throw down with Tawny in your defense.” “Oh really?” Wrath grins. “Old broad still bitter she couldn’t get in my pants?” The guys all have a good chuckle. Trinity shakes her head and leads me away from the guys. “You do okay?” My shoulders lift. “It was an experience. Not one I care to repeat anytime soon.” She nods knowingly. “I ran into Cookie the first night we were there. She’s tight with their VP.” Trinity rolls her eyes at that. “I’m not surprised. Whenever they were up here, if she wasn’t with Rock, she’d be all over him.” I ignore that whole “with Rock” part because it makes my stomach roll. “Met Rock’s ex-wife too. She’s a treat.” Trinity snorts. “I’ve never had the pleasure. She was before my time. But I’ve heard plenty of stories. Anything else exciting?” “Not really. I tried to remember your advice, and I don’t think I made too much of an ass of myself.” “Aw, Hope. I’m sure you did fine.” She pulls me in for another quick hug. “Glad you’re back, though.” It feels nice to know Trinity missed me. We talk a little longer before, out of the corner of my eye, I see Rock step back outside. Thinking he might need me to grab my stuff from the van, I follow him out. He’s busy barking orders at the prospects, though. The van has a lot more stuff crammed in the back than it did when we left. For the first time, I wonder what this trip was really about. And what the hell did Rock do the other night when he was gone so long “handling business?” Am I supposed to worry about those things? I guess not. But I can’t help it. “Rock, do you want me to grab my stuff and get it out of their way?” He turns, surprised to find me outside. “No,” he answers with a sharpness I’m not used to hearing directed at me. “Go ahead inside. I’ll get everything.” “Well, I actually wanted to run home for a little while. Catch up on some things.” His face pulls into a frown, and I honestly don’t understand why. I can already tell he’ll be consumed with “club business” for the next few hours, so what does it matter if I’m not here?

I hate that Hope wants to run “home.” Her home should be here, with me. But I don’t feel like bringing that up again, so I don’t. Besides, I have a lot of shit to take care of and can’t spend time with her the way I want to right now. Leaning over, I brush a kiss on her forehead. “You leaving now?” “I think so. You look like you’re busy here.” She gestures to the van. She’s not being bitchy. Just stating the facts. My girl almost never gives me a hard time anymore about anything she thinks relates to club business. While I enjoyed all the closeness we shared on this trip and how easy she made things for me, I miss her busting my balls all the time. At least then I know what she’s feeling. Now, I have no idea. She’s so locked down it’s hard to get a read on her. It’s unfair, but I don’t like it. It’s also unfair that I’m relieved she’s going. I want to get these guns unloaded, and I’d rather she’s not around for it. There’s a steel storage room under the garage where we store most of the weapons we keep up here. Hope doesn’t know anything about it, nor does she need to. One of these days, I want Wrath to do some weapons training with her, but today isn’t that day. I’m such a fuckin’ dick. Bitchin’ about her not moving in with me. Pissed she’s going home. Relieved she won’t be around to ask any questions. Part of me needs her to go. Part of me stops breathing at the thought of her leaving. Fuck. I get her bags settled in her trunk and close the lid. She gives me one of her sweet smiles and wraps her arms around my middle. Suddenly, I feel like I can breathe again. She tips up her head and kisses my chin. “Despite everything, I had a nice time with you this weekend.” Her voice is low, meant for only my ears, and goes through me like a bolt of electricity. Now I can’t stand the thought of her leaving again. “Yo, prez, are we ready to roll these out?” I turn and glare at Murphy. “Give me two fuckin’ seconds, will ya?” Against me, Hope’s body ripples with laughter. “Go easy on him. He saved my bacon yesterday. Don’t forget.” Yeah, I won’t forget that anytime soon. Another reminder of all the fucked-up shit I drag my girl through. There she goes again, being all sweet. Sticking up for Murphy ‘cause she can’t stand the thought of me being cross with him for a second.

“Think you can give Axel a night off? He was planning to take Heidi to a movie,” she asks me with a sly smile. Her request makes me laugh. “He ask you to ask me?” She frowns, offended, I think. “No.” “Yeah, I’ll have him head home.” That suits me fine. Don’t need Axel handling all our new firepower anyway. That shit’s above his pay grade. Turning, I search for him and snap my fingers. “Prospect.” He hustles over. “What do you need, prez?” Hope releases me, but I put a hand on her shoulder so she doesn’t go far. Tugging out my wallet, I hand Axel some folded-over bills. “Thanks for all your help this weekend and for takin’ good care of my woman. Go take your girl out, okay?” He gets that wide-eyed look prospects get sometimes. “Yeah. No problem. Thanks a lot, prez. Appreciate it.” I nod, dismissing him. Turning to Hope, I hook my fingers in her pocket and yank her against me. “Happy?” “Yes. That was very nice.” “Yeah, I’m a regular Ward Cleaver.” Her mouth quirks. “You are, in your scary biker way.” “Hey,” I whisper to get her attention. “I had a nice time with you too. Having you there made dealing with all the bullshit a lot easier.” She tilts her head at me, the obvious question written all over her face. What bullshit? ‘Cause I didn’t tell her shit about what really went down. She rubs her palm over my cheek. “I’m glad. You do so much for me all the time. It’s nice to balance the scales a little.” What the fuck is she talking about? I don’t feel like I do a damn thing for her, except make her worry and caveman all over her. But I don’t want to ruin the sweet moment, so I press a kiss to her forehead and tap her ass with my hand. “Get going, baby. Get some rest. I’ll call you later.” “Okay.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I ’m not even at my house for two hours when Rock calls.

“Miss me already?” I answer. “Yeah, baby, but that’s not why I called.” “Oh. Is everything okay?” There’s nothing but silence. “Rock?” “Uh, Heidi… her grandmother died. Teller brought her up here, and she was asking for you. I know you’re probably exhaust—” “No. I’m leaving right now. Just let me grab some stuff.” I rush down the hallway to my bedroom and plow through my closet. “How’s Teller? Is he okay?” “Yeah, I guess. You know what kind of issues they’d been having.” “What happened to her?” “Heart, I guess.” “Mmm… I knew they shouldn’t have let her out when they did.” Over the line, Rock’s laughter is warm and rumbly. “I love you, Baby Doll.” “I’ll be there soon.” We hang up, and I finish packing some things. As I work my way through my closet, my hand stops on a black dress. I’ll need one for the funeral, right? Crap. It’s the same dress I wore to Clay’s funeral. For a moment, I’m stunned with indecision. It’s probably too big on me, but that’s not why I hesitate. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I grumble out loud. It’s not a wedding dress. It’s a plain black fucking dress. I wore it plenty of times before Clay died. I stuff it into my bag with everything else and head out the door. At the clubhouse, I run into Teller outside. “Thanks for coming up, Hope.” I give him a tight hug, which he hesitates before accepting. “I’m so sorry.” I draw back so I can see his face. He shrugs. “We were never particularly close. But she pretty much raised Heidi. My mom dumped us there when Heidi was six and never came back for us.” I already know this from helping Teller with the custody dispute between him and his grandmother, but it still breaks my heart a little to hear him talk about it so matter-of-fact.

“Heidi’s inside. I’m sorry Rock dragged you up here. You’re the only—” “Teller, it’s fine. Of course I want to be here for Heidi. You too.” “Thanks, Hope. There’s no danger of them trying to put her in foster care, is there?” “No. Custody should go to you one hundred percent. I’ll start drafting something this week. I can call Charlotte too—” “That’s okay. I have her number. I’ll call her.” That gets my attention. Teller’s my client, so technically, Heidi’s lawyer has no business talking to him without my knowledge. I’m surprised because Charlotte seems so earnest. “You really shouldn’t be talking to her without me.” His mouth twitches in a short grin. “Yeah, she says the same thing.” Before I can question him further, he asks, “Think you can help me with the estate stuff? Grams left the house and everything to Heidi, but it’s supposed to go into a trust for her until she’s twenty-five. It’s a big place to maintain, so I’m thinking of selling it after Heidi graduates and stuffing the money in the trust for her.” From working with Adam, I’ve seen lots of people who would drain that trust dry contesting the grandmother’s wishes. Teller’s an honorable guy, and I want to do everything I can to make this easier on him. “Of course. I’ll ask Adam to help you with that. It shouldn’t be a problem.” Heidi’s curled up on the couch when I step inside. Axel and Murphy hover nearby. They both look up when I enter. Murphy’s mouth pulls into a smile when he spots me. “Hey, First Lady, knew you couldn’t stay away from us for long.” He reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Thanks for coming up for Bug.” Axel scowls at him but seems unsure of what to do. “I’m guessing you didn’t get to your movie?” I ask him. “No… it was. It was bad. I pulled up the same time the ambulance got there.” I give his shoulder a squeeze and make my way to Heidi. She doesn’t move or register my presence until I sit next to her and put my hand on her back. “How are you, Heidi girl?” Sitting up slowly, she sniffles and wipes her face before focusing on me. “Hi. Did they make you come up here because of me?” My heart constricts at her words. As if I’m only here because Rock asked me and not because I want to be here for her. “Honey, I’m here for you. Do you want to talk?” She blinks at me and sits up a little straighter. “Not really… Hope, she died right in front of me.” Taking a chance, I wrap her in my arms, and she responds by putting her head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey. That’s awful.” “We weren’t fighting, though. I got to tell her about this scholarship I got to go to some summer classes, and she was actually happy with me for once. So that’s something, right?” “Yes. That’s great. At least you had a nice moment with her before.”

“I still feel awful for always being such a brat to her, you know?” I want to say it’s okay, that it’s normal to be a brat at her age, but I don’t think she’ll find that comforting. “That’s normal,” I tell her instead. “I wish we could find my mom. She doesn’t even know her own mother is…” “I know.” I don’t know what else to say to her. I’m not sure how much she knows about any of the time Rock spent helping Teller track down his mother. Stupid secrets. One of these days I’m going to have to ask Rock to give me a list of what I can and can’t say to people around here.

As soon as I step out of the garage, I spot Hope’s car. No one bothered to tell me she’d arrived. Fuckin’ great. “We’re all secure down there, right?” Wrath asks. Since he hates navigating the narrow stairs, he’s been patiently waiting in the garage. Well, patient for him. “Why didn’t anyone tell me Hope was here?” Wrath glances at the parking lot. “Didn’t know.” The door slams behind us. Z works the combination into the keypad for the side door and joins us. “We gonna have a full house for the funeral?” he asks. I shake my head. Teller joins us. “Hope’s here. She’s inside with Heidi. Thanks for calling her.” “Yeah, no problem. You need help making any of the arrangements?” “No. I guess her lawyer had a set of instructions or some shit. I’ll take Bug later to go pick out some stuff.” “I’ll start contacting some of the other charters—” Z starts. Teller cuts him off. “Don’t bother. If you guys are there, I appreciate it. But given the way she felt about the club, especially after some of the shit she said at the end of that stuff with Heidi, I don’t feel right having—” “It’s not for her. It’s for you,” I say. He shakes his head. “I know.” “We’ll do whatever you want, bro,” Wrath says with a hearty back slap, almost knocking Teller on his ass. Teller shoots him a glare, then focuses on me. “I hate askin’, but can I stay up here with Heidi for a few days? She really doesn’t want to go back to the house, and —” “Yeah, of course.” And to make that happen, I see who I need to talk to stepping out of the house. “Trinity,” I call out. She turns and nods at me, waiting to see what

I want. “We good here?” I ask the guys. I get affirmatives from everyone, so I wave Trinity over and meet her halfway. “What’s up, prez? Hope’s inside with Heidi.” “I know. Thanks. Can you do me a favor? Heidi’s going to stay up here for a few days. I need you to—” She gives me a knowing look. “Call the girls and tell them they can’t come up?” “Pretty much.” “Can I at least bring Swan? She won’t misbehave, and I could use her help.” She lowers her voice a bit. “Besides, she’s sorta tight with T, since, you know—” “Yeah, yeah. I trust your judgment.” At the moment, I can’t remember which one Swan is, but if Trinity says the girl will behave, I believe her. While we walk into the clubhouse together, Trinity explains what she plans to do for the wake. I barely hear any of it, though. I reassure her that everything sounds fine, and she thanks me as she heads to the kitchen. My eyes are glued to Hope, who’s sitting on the couch with Heidi in her arms, talking softly to the girl who wouldn’t respond to any of us an hour ago. If I were the sort of man who cried, now might be one of those times. All I can think about is the doctor calmly explaining to Hope that she might not be able to have children. It’s beyond fuckin’ unfair. The woman is already so damn nurturing and maternal. I’m completely slammed and blindsided by the thought of having children with her and then beyond pissed that it might not be an option.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

E ven though the funeral is for someone who wasn’t related to me in any way, I

feel the pull of the depressing day ahead of us. This isn’t about me, though. I need to be strong for Heidi. I want to be strong for Rock and his club. With those goals in mind, I set aside my own unease. Rock’s already out of bed. The bathroom door is open, so I assume he’s downstairs. The funeral isn’t until eleven, so I have plenty of time to get ready. I decide to go downstairs and see what everyone is up to first. The living room is empty. In the dining room, I only find Heidi, Axel, and a very relieved-to-see-me Trinity. “Morning, Hope.” “Hey, Trin. Where are the guys?” “War room. Church.” Odd. Heidi turns around and flashes a quick smile at me. “How’re you doing, Heidi?” She lifts her shoulders. “Okay, I guess. More nervous about getting there on time and stuff.” Trinity lays a soft hand on my arm. “I’ll grab you breakfast, Hope.” “That’s fine, Trinity. I’ll come help.” Trinity grabs Axel’s empty plate, and I follow her into the kitchen. “Is everything okay?” I ask quietly. As we’re walking, she glances at me over her shoulder. “Yeah. Heads up—Sway and Tawny are on their way up for the funeral.” “Oh. That’s nice of them.” She snorts out a soft breath. “More than likely, he’s using it as an excuse to come up for something else.” Her explanation surprises me since Trinity always advises me to “play dumb” when it comes to club business. “Are you worried?” I ask her. She shrugs. “Not really.” A nervous smile twitches at the corners of her mouth. “I won’t be offended if you want to boss me around in front of Tawny.” A harsh chuckle bursts out of me. “Yeah, that’s not happening, Trin.”

She pulls another sad shrug. “I’m not an ol’ lady, Hope.” “I don’t give a fuck. You’re my friend.” Her eyes widen, and this time she genuinely laughs. “Wow, look at you with the potty mouth.” “What are you talking about? I swear all the time.” Our silly discussion is interrupted by Rock and Wrath entering the kitchen. “You girls okay?” Rock asks, his gaze dashing between the two of us. “Yeah, Hope’s just cussing like a sailor.” Rock’s eyebrow quirks up. Wrath shakes his head. “Cinderella,” he mock-scolds me. Rock settles his hand on my shoulder. “Eat breakfast yet?” “No, I just—” “I got it, Rock,” Trinity interrupts. “Thanks, honey.” Rock takes my hand, tugging me toward the door. “Rock—” I start to protest, but he cuts me off. “I need to talk to you for a second.” “Oh.” I turn to apologize to Trinity, but she’s already wrapped up in an intense discussion with Wrath. I practically have to run to keep up with Rock he’s moving so fast. He glances at the champagne room but keeps moving past it. I’m so confused. Does he need to talk to me, or is he looking for a place to have a quickie? It doesn’t seem like the right time for the latter. We end up in his office next to the war room. Z’s in there working on the computer. “Need me to leave, prez?” “No. Stay.” Okay, so not a quickie. “Rock, what’s wrong?” “Nothing, doll.” He points to an empty chair across from his desk. After we’re both seated, Z turns to face us. Rock runs his hand through his hair before opening his mouth. “Tawny and Sway are coming up for the funeral.” “Okay,” I answer slowly. “Trinity mentioned it.” Rock’s mouth twists down. “It’s normal for other charters to come in for a family funeral. Teller didn’t want it for his grandmother.” Thinking over some of the nasty allegations she made about the club during the custody dispute, I understand why. “But Sway found out.” He flashes a look at Z, who remains poker-faced. “And he wanted to come up.” “Okay.” “I know you have your hands full with Heidi—” “But you need me to entertain Tawny?” Relief washes over his face. “Yes, she likes you, so it shouldn’t be a problem.” That’s news to me, but I’m happy to hear it. Rock squeezes my hand to get my attention. “I don’t think they’re spending the night—” “It’s fine. I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will. She’ll probably want to mother Heidi a little, so that’ll make things easier.” Tawny didn’t strike me as the “motherly” type, but she did raise two kids of her own, so who knows? “Trinity’s taking care of setting things up at the grandmother’s for after the funeral.” Rock continues. Wow, good thing because that hadn’t even crossed my mind. “That reminds me, Rock. You know I told you on the trip Tawny had some… opinions on how I should treat Trinity. And before you guys came in, Trinity… Well, never mind. I’m not saying this to be difficult, but I’m not going to treat Trin like shit just so I can look like a proper ol’ lady in front of Tawny.” Good grief, that sounded ridiculous. Z bursts out laughing. Rock takes a deep breath before he lets out his own chuckle. I feel weird talking about this in front of Z, but I don’t know if I’ll have another chance. “Rock, you know I don’t ever want to do anything that reflects badly on you or this club, but I won’t—” “Baby, stop. It’s fine. I would never ask you to behave differently. And I love how good you are to Trinity. Thank you.” Z watches me with an intent expression that makes me flush. He probably thinks I’m an idiot. Rock takes my hand and stands, pulling me up with him. “Z and I may need to take off for a little while after the funeral. Murphy will be sticking with you. I’ll catch up with you guys at the grandmother’s house or here.” I glance down at Z, but he’s got his back to us again. “All right.” My eyes search Rock’s face. I know there’s about a thousand things he’s not telling me, but I can’t worry about any of it. Heidi is my priority today—and apparently now Tawny. “Go get some breakfast. It’s going to be a long day,” Rock finally says. “Did you eat?” He flashes a soft smile. “Yeah, doll, I’m good.” “Z, you need anything?” I ask. “I’m all set, sugar. Thanks.” Stretching up on tiptoes, I give Rock a quick kiss on the cheek. He holds me still for a longer kiss, and my arms automatically wrap around his waist. Forgetting where we are for a moment, I let out a soft moan. “Seriously, guys?” Z grumbles.

“That’s some fuckin’ woman you got there, prez,” Z says after the door closes behind Hope. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I answer. “I know.” I can’t help but respect that as much as Hope wants to please me and fit into my world, she won’t sacrifice what’s important to her to do it. Her loyalty to me, to my club—her refusal to betray Trinity to impress someone else? Yet another example of why I love her so much. “That other situation needs to resolve itself soon,” Z points out. “I know,” I say again. “It will. Give him time.” Honestly, I don’t think even ol’ lady status will make Tawny treat Trinity any better. Z shakes his head. “Let’s worry about one thing at a time. You find anything?” “Yeah. I got a hit. Small shop in New Hampshire. Brother’s telling the truth.” That’s nice for a change. “Well, thank fuck.” Sway needs some of the guns returned that we helped ourselves to on his little adventure. Wrath’s vote was for Sway to go fuck himself. That’s why he’s not the president. Not that I like the situation either. It makes us look weak. Sway apologized profusely and has promised to reimburse us with a cash amount. I suppose he expects me to turn it down. If so, he’s going to be disappointed. Z stands up and stretches. “I’ll go give Murphy a hand.” “Thanks. If you want to punch him a few times for me, I won’t complain.” Z snickers on his way out the door.

My stomach rumbles as I leave Rock’s office. Classical music wafts out of the champagne room and piques my curiosity. It’s not every day you hear Tchaikovsky played in the clubhouse. The door stands slightly ajar; otherwise, I’d never peek inside. I recognize the girl dancing, and now I understand how she got her nickname. Saying Swan’s graceful is trite and doesn’t quite express her movements. As she spins, she spots me watching her and stops. “I’m so sorry… I heard the music… and the door…” I stammer out. “You’re amazing.” She cocks her head to the side. “Thanks, Hope,” she answers softly. I’ve never

noticed the faint trace of an accent before. “Were you a ballet dancer?” “Yes. My whole family danced.” “Wow. Well, you’re really good.” Her cheeks turn pink, and she looks away. “Thank you. I try to practice when I can. Rock gave me the okay to dance at Crystal Ball too, but it’s not quite the same.” I can’t help laughing at that. “No. I imagine it’s not.” She snaps off the radio and throws on a T-shirt over her leotard. “I’m sorry. I like to use the space here because of the mirrors, but with everything—” “No, Swan, I’m sure it’s fine.” Her face twists. “I want to be there for Teller, but he told me not to come, so—” “Oh.” I had no idea they were… whatever, so I’m not sticking my nose in that. “I, uh, don’t think it’s just you. I heard he asked Rock not to have the other clubs come or anything,” I say lamely. She looks very hopeful. “Oh. Okay.” “I know Trinity has to get a lot of stuff together. I’m sure she’d appreciate the help,” I suggest. “Yeah, I can do that.” “Well, I need to eat. I’m sorry I interrupted you.” She stares at me with surprise. “No problem. Thanks.” Heidi and Axel are gone when I return to the dining room. Wrath’s sitting by himself, finishing breakfast. “Why are you out here alone?” I ask when I get closer. He flicks his blue eyes my way and shrugs. “I just talked to Swan. She’s going to give Trinity a hand.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “That’s good.” A well-behaved Wrath is unsettling. “Are you okay?” This time I get his regular devious smirk. “Yes, sugar.” “Need anything?” “Nope.” Whatever’s bothering him isn’t my problem, so I continue into the kitchen. Trinity has platters of food and boxes with paper plates, napkins, and utensils laid out all over the place. “Damn, you work fast. I wasn’t even gone twenty minutes.” She glances up and smiles. “Prepped most of it last night.” “Swan said she’s coming in to help.” “Good.” Feeling pretty useless, I grab what I want for breakfast and eat it standing up while talking to Trinity. As I’m finishing, Swan wanders in and asks where she should start. “We’ve got this, Hope. You should check on Heidi,” Trinity says. I take that as my cue to leave.

Getting the girls in the car was like herding a bunch of otters. Hope’s indecisive and running late on a good day. A day like today? It’s not her family, but I still don’t think a funeral is on her list of things to do—ever. Not on mine either. Already been to far too many in my life. Heidi is, well, a teenage girl. She burst into tears because she couldn’t find the right color lip-gloss or some shit. I like to think I’m an understanding guy, but goddamn. I didn’t feel guilty at all about waiting downstairs and letting Hope deal with that shit. And thank God for her, because Trinity looked as baffled as I felt. Murphy seems to have set a goal of working my last nerve today. Assigning him to watch Hope finally shut him the fuck up—because he knows Hope will be attached to Heidi. I swear to fuck, some days managing these guys is as drama-ridden as managing the strippers at Crystal Ball. Lucky me, I’ve finally got Hope, Murphy, Heidi, and Axel in my SUV on the way to the funeral. I’m amused as fuck watching Murphy in my rearview. Hope breaks the tension by turning around in her seat to engage him in conversation. A few times, she has to reach out and tap him on the leg when he’s a little too focused on Heidi and Axel snuggled up together. It’s gonna be a long afternoon.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The graveside service is brief and to the point. Tawny and Sway met us halfway

and followed Rock’s truck up to the private cemetery. The guests are definitely divided in half. On one side sits Heidi with her biker family—a sea of black leather Lost Kings MC cuts. The other side appears to be made up of Mrs. Whelan’s friends. Elderly women and a few gentlemen in shades of blue and black polyester. Their side seems to have clear opinions about our side. Although I’m offended, I can’t dwell on it. Heidi hasn’t stopped crying since we all got out of Rock’s SUV. She turned away from Axel, buried her head in my shoulder, and hasn’t left my side since. We’re seated in the front row. Teller’s on Heidi’s other side. Rock’s next to me. He squeezes my free hand and whispers, “Thank you,” in my ear. When the service is over, we stand. Axel hands Heidi some flowers, which she places on her grandmother’s casket. Teller ventures to the other side to speak to one of his grandmother’s friends. “Hope?” Glancing up, I see Charlotte Clark, the attorney assigned to Heidi during the custody case. “Hi, Charlotte.” She turns her attention to Heidi, who lifted her head at the mention of Charlotte’s name. A bright smile flashes across her face and she straightens up. “Thank you for coming, Miss Clark,” she says softly. Charlotte’s mouth curves into a gentle smile. “Of course. I’m so sorry, Heidi.” She glances at me. “If you, ah, need anything, you have my number.” “Thank you.” It’s awkward trying to have a conversation here, so I invite her back to the house. As she’s leaving, Teller spots her and catches up, walking her to her car. I glance at Rock, and he shrugs. When we get to the house, Heidi’s so reluctant to go inside Axel takes her for a walk. Murphy stares after them until I nudge him with my elbow. “You okay, Murphy?” He turns and hesitates before answering. “Yeah, just wish I could do more for

her.” I think it’s obvious there’s more to it than that. Taking his arm, I say, “You’re a good guy, Blake.” His face lights up in a playful smirk and he pats my hand. “Are you sure about that? Don’t get too carried away, First Lady.” Pulling him away from the others, I say what’s been bothering me for a while. “Now that you mention it, Heidi did share something with me that I found a little disturbing.” To say he’s shocked is an understatement, but he recovers and puts on his disinterested face quick. “Really?” “Yes.” I lower my voice. “She’s a kid. Leave her alone.” “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I think she’s older than me.” “Yeah, she’s a smart kid, but she’s also an emotional teenage girl. Don’t mess with her head.” Finally, a guilty look crosses his face. “You told me yourself the age of consent is seventeen—” “That’s not the point,” I hiss at him. “She’s still a kid, and you’re a grown man.” Murphy glares down at me, but I glare right back. Finally, he says what he’s clearly been thinking over. “That girl’s needed someone to mother her for as long as I’ve known her, and I can’t tell you how much I respect you for steppin’ up and takin’ on that job. It’s the only reason I’m not tellin’ you to fuck off and mind your own business right now.” I raise an eyebrow at him and turn my head slightly in Rock’s direction. “Well, that and Rock would fuckin’ kill me.” He glances at Rock. “You haven’t told him, have you?” Uh-oh. “No. I don’t see any reason to cause trouble. Heidi asked me not to.” “Go ahead. It’ll earn me a beatdown from Teller or Wrath. I probably deserve it.” Confused about why Wrath would get involved, I shake my head. “Just leave her alone. She’s with Axel. He treats her well—” His expression hardens at the mention of Axel’s name. “Axel’s a non-issue once she’s eighteen.” “Murphy—what about that girl, Serena? She really likes you.” “She’s a way to pass the time when I’m visiting downstate.” He flashes me a cheeky grin that I want to smack off his face. “I’ll set her up with Axel. Does that make you feel better?” “Dammit—” All humor disappears from his face. “Look, I get where you’re coming from. I learned my lesson after her birthday. Whether you think so or not, I want what’s best for her. She needs to concentrate on school, and I know she’s got that college course she’s taking over the summer. I’m not plannin’ to interfere with any of that stuff.” I think that’s as good as I’m going to get from him at the moment. “Okay. Can I

ask you something, though?” “Shoot.” “What if she chooses Axel? You have to realize what she felt for you was a girlish crush.” His mouth opens and closes. Then he lifts his shoulders in a careless shrug. “I love her. That won’t change. I ain’t gonna kill Axel if that’s what you’re worried about.” Before I have a chance to respond to that, Rock breaks away from his conversation with Sway. A slight frown crosses his face as he takes in Murphy and me. I frown right back at him. Murphy untangles himself from me. “I’m going to see if T needs anything.” He squeezes my hand before bounding up the front steps of the old Victorian. “What were you two talking about?” Rock asks. “Nothing. We’re both worried about Heidi, that’s all.” I hate lying to him, but I’m not really sure what to do at the moment. Rock’s gaze sweeps up and down the quiet street. “Where’d they go?” “For a walk. I can’t really blame her for not wanting to hang out inside the house.” He grunts, “Yeah, guess not,” while rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. Obviously, something is bothering him. “Are you and Z taking off now?” He glances at Sway. “In a bit. Tawny’s gonna ride back with you.” “Okay.” All of a sudden, he yanks me closer. Settling his big hands on my hips, he stares down at me with a serious expression. “Two things, Baby Doll.” I raise an eyebrow, curious to find out what he means. “Thank you for everything you’re doing for Heidi today. It means a lot to me.” “Of course.” “Second thing, you look really beautiful.” My heart jumps. I did end up wearing the black dress I brought from home. It is too big on me, so I cinched it with a belt, and because it’s chilly, I tossed a cardigan over it. Combined with the sensible black shoes I chose because of the uneven ground I expected at the cemetery, I feel like a dowdy nun. That Rock thinks otherwise—enough to stop and tell me—is nice. “Thank you.” Inside, the house is organized chaos. Trinity’s hiding out in the kitchen with Wrath standing guard. Not only did our Lost Kings family follow us back, but some of the grandmother’s friends found their way to the house as well. It’s an awkward comingling. Turns out Wrath is just as unfriendly to the elderly as he is to everyone else. Especially if he thinks one of them is indirectly insulting Trinity. This is where I think my people skills might come in handy. “Thank you so much for coming, Mrs. Brown. Can I help you find a seat in the living room?” I ask

as I take the old woman’s plate, offer her my arm, and lead her out of the kitchen. “That girl shouldn’t be in there touching Sue Anne’s things,” she grumbles at me. “She’s just trying to help out. Sue Anne wouldn’t want guests going hungry in her house, right?” I have no idea if this is true or not. Heidi’s grandmother didn’t strike me as the hostess type, but we didn’t exactly meet under friendly circumstances. The woman was more likely to throw a cup of coffee in my face than offer me one to drink. “That’s true, I guess. Are you Heidi’s mother?” She leans in and stage-whispers at me, “I thought you were a prostitute?” Oh dear. “No. No. I’m a friend of the family.” “Oh. You look nice. Not like the rest of those barbarians her grandson associates with.” My mouth twitches, but I manage to keep it together, find the woman a place to sit, someone else to talk to, and escape into the kitchen myself. Tense voices reach my ears right outside the kitchen doorway. I can’t make out what Trinity said, but Tawny comes through loud and clear. “Where’s Hope? She should be taking care of this stuff, not you,” she bitches. Jeez, is it too late to escape out the front door? But no, I can’t leave Trinity. Not when it seems Wrath has disappeared. “Hi, Tawny.” She turns and gives me a warm smile. “There you are. The old lady of the upstate charter.” Good grief. Trinity rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue at Tawny’s back, and I do my best not to giggle. Tawny gives me a tight embrace. “Bet you didn’t think you were going to see me again so soon, did you?” she asks. “No, but it’s a pleasure, even under the terrible circumstances. I know Teller and Heidi appreciate you guys being here for them.” She beams at me, and I mentally give myself a pat on the back. Over Tawny’s shoulder, I spot Trinity giving me a thumbs-up. Squelching down my laughter, I focus on Tawny. “Did the guys take off?” I ask. She waves her hand in the air. “You know the men. Club business can’t wait— not even for death. Now where’s Heidi? I haven’t seen her in a few years.” She steers me into the living room and onto the front porch. We find Heidi and Axel sitting on the front steps together. Tawny fusses over her, which surprisingly seems to cheer her up. Heidi introduces Axel, and Tawny rakes her gaze over him like he’s a prime rib. “You’re a prospect, Axel?” “Yes, ma’am.” I’ve never seen Axel nervous, but Tawny seems to freak him out. I can’t blame the kid.

Murphy ambles up and observes the scene. For once, he seems to take mercy on Axel. “Prospect, drinks are gettin’ thin. Go grab some sodas,” he says, tossing him a set of keys. Axel catches them midair and nods. “Nice meetin’ you, Tawny.” “I’m sure I’ll see you again later,” she coos. Disturbing. Murphy sits next to Heidi on the step and slips an arm around her shoulders. I’m trying to keep an eye on them and keep up with Tawny’s chatter. Eventually, I give up. They’re in broad daylight. Murphy promised me he’d behave. So when Tawny pulls me inside, I follow.

“So this guy whose stash we jacked is legit?” Z asks as we drive back to the clubhouse in Sway’s SUV. Sway chuckles. “Yeah, it’s an embarrassing situation. He and his partners run a shop out in New Hampshire. Don’t need permits or anything out there.” “So who jacked them?” “Fucking little gangsters from the city tryin’ to move in on our turf. Gonna get ugly before it gets better, I’m afraid.” I’m familiar with the dilemma Sway’s facing. “I hear that.” “You still got that snake problem up here?” “Yup.” Sway just grunts in response. “So I didn’t bring cash to replace what I’m takin’ back, but I think you’ll be pleased.” He gestures for Z to pull one of the bags in the cargo area up front. A black POF P-415 rests inside. I don’t take it out since, you know, we’re driving around in broad daylight and all. “There’s two of ‘em,” Sway explains. “Yeah, all right. Can definitely use those,” I say as I pass the bag back to Z. “These will be fun to put on paper,” Z says, getting all giddy at the thought of blowing holes through shit. “These are supposed to run cooler and be more accurate.” “Good deer gun,” Sway comments. Yeah, I don’t really picture Sway stalking through timber with those. Z taps my shoulder. “Call Wrath, see if they’re wrapping up soon.” Wrath answers on the first ring. “What?” “You with the girls?”

“Not at the moment. All those old biddies were givin’ me a headache. Why?” “Nothing. Wanted an ETA.” “Christ, can’t be away from your woman for more than five seconds?” he snarks. Even though he’s giving me a hard time, by the sound of things, he’s on his way to where the girls are. “Why don’t you have Trin start wrappin’ stuff up” I suggest. “Gladly.” I listen while he barks out orders to Murphy. “See you in a bit, prez,” he says and hangs up. When we arrive, the clubhouse is empty. Z takes the weapons Sway brought and stashes them in our locker. He brings up the ones we’re handing over, and we help Sway get things packed down in the back of his SUV for the trip home. After that, there’s not much else to do besides wait for the girls. Z wanders inside while Sway and I sit outside. “So this woman, she’s it for you?” he asks after a while. “Yeah.” “‘Bout time. Need to have a son to leave the club to.” Well, fuck if that’s not a punch in the balls. “Nah. I ain’t worried about that. Teller or Z would make fine presidents. Murphy, if he quits his bitching.” Sway chuckles. “Notice you ain’t mentioning Wrath.” “Fuck, no. He’s got no interest. Need him right where he is anyway.” His mouth twists into a smirk. “Where? Looked like all he was doin’ was hovering ‘round Trinity back at the wake.” Yeah, I don’t even think Wrath saw Sway. Not that we were there very long. I don’t feel like gossiping about my brother, though, so I ignore Sway’s comment. For a while, we reminisce about old times. Sway’s impressed with our setup. We talk about some of the other changes we want to make so we’re more selfsufficient. “You got some green I can take back?” he asks. I shake my head. “Man, we’re tapped. Sparky’s got a sick crop he’s tending to. I got this gangster asshole breathin’ down my neck for larger shipments.” “That sucks.” “Yes, it does, my friend.” “You need help with the gangster?” I snort out a humorless laugh. “Not yet. His crew is our largest customer, and they still pay cash.” “Cash is king,” he jokes. I roll my eyes skyward, and Sway gives me a friendly punch in the arm. “No, seriously, I might be able to hook you up with a crew down my way, if you’re interested.” “Maybe.” While I appreciate the offer—and I do—I also know Sway will want a percentage of our sales. I also don’t like the idea of needing his help to take care of my club. Might as well just hand him my president patch now if I can’t figure this out on my own.

We’re interrupted by the return of both cars, and I walk over to meet Hope. Murphy’s the first one out and rushes around the car to open the door for Tawny, who pats him on the cheek like he’s a kid. She barely throws a glance her husband’s way. Hope flings the back door open, and my breath catches when I see her smiling up at me. She grasps my hand and hops down from the SUV. For a moment, everyone else in the yard disappears. As she wraps her arms around my middle, all the unease from the day evaporates. “Hey, you,” she whispers up at me. After I press a kiss against her forehead, I ask, “Everything go okay?” “I think so.” She loosens her grip and turns toward Wrath. “Well, except for Wrath scaring all the old ladies out of the house,” she explains with a chuckle. Wrath shrugs. “What? They didn’t take any of your hints. Had to do somethin’,” he explains without a trace of remorse. His gaze falls on Sway, and he lifts his chin. “What up, brother? Long time.” “Yeah.” Sway marches over so they can catch up. “Heidi stay out there?” I ask. Murphy joins us. “Yeah, she’s got school tomorrow. Teller helped her pack up some stuff to bring to his place.” “Good.” Seeing how irritated Tawny is, Hope kisses my cheek and joins her. What they still have to talk about after spending the day together I have no idea, but I appreciate Hope making the effort. I admire my girl for stepping up yet again. It means a lot to me that she tries so hard to make sense of the club’s culture— something so foreign to her—and help where she can. She’s always so sensitive to other’s feelings—something a lot of us around here lack. Wrath’s still catching up with Sway. Trinity looks a little lost as she watches everyone. “Need help, sweetheart?” I ask as I wander in her direction. A nervous smile flickers over her face. “Nah, I got it, prez. Thanks.” “Murph,” I call out. “Yeah, prez.” “Help Trin unload, please.” “Yup.” He turns and snags the keys out of her pocket, making her laugh. Satisfied that’s taken care of, I’m antsy to be alone with Hope. Seems like we’re all outside yapping forever when Sway finally declares it’s time to get on the road. “You sure you don’t want to stay?” I ask out of respect. “Nah, got a meetin’ later.” After we send them off, everyone’s still standing around bullshittin’. I’ve been as patient as I can be. Wrapping my hand around Hope’s elbow, I tug her away from Trinity. “Need to have a word with my First Lady.” At first, she startles, like she’s afraid I’m mad at her. With a tilt of my head and a raised eyebrow, she gets the picture quick.

Her lips curve into a flirty smile. “Yes, Mr. President.”

I’m exhausted when we finally get back to the clubhouse. Entertaining Tawny used up all my reserves. I struggled not to show my joy when they headed home. Rock is clearly agitated about something. When he finally gets me alone, he wastes no time leading me upstairs. Once we’re in our room, he sits on the side of the bed to take off his boots while I wander into my closet to deposit my shoes and sweater. “Hope?” His voice pulls me out of the closet, to his side. As I’m standing in front of him, he tugs me between his legs and drops his head against my stomach. “Thank you for all you did today,” he mumbles against me. I run my hands through his hair, and he hums in pleasure, fisting his hands in the material of my dress. “I need you, baby.” “I’m right here, Rock.” “Don’t know what I’d do without you.” I skim my hand along the side of his face. “You won’t ever have to find out.” Finally, he looks up at me. “I hope not.” That sounds ominous, and I wonder what exactly went on today. But he obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, so I drop it for now. His hands are busy working my belt loose. It drops to the floor with a muted clink. Then he tugs up my dress until I pull it up over my head and toss it next to the belt. Underneath, I’m wearing my blue garter skirt and stockings. Not for sexy reasons, just because it was all I had here that would work with the dress. My stockpile of tights seems to have diminished. I settle my hands on his shoulders for balance, enjoying the feel of his solid muscles beneath my fingers. “Fuck,” Rock breathes out. “You were wearing this all day and I had no idea?” “I guess.” He runs a finger under one of the garter straps, tickling my thigh. “That’s unacceptable, Hope. I need to pay better attention to you.” The words themselves are teasing, but his voice is so serious, as if he’s upset with himself. “I’m fine, Rock. What happened today? Why was Sway really here?” Neither of us says anything—or even breathes—for a moment. It’s the most direct question I’ve asked him about “club business” in a long time. He tips his head up at me, but his dark eyes and expression are unreadable. “Stupid bullshit, Hope,” he finally answers.

It’s not much information, but he did answer me, so I push for more. “Did something happen on our trip?” “Yes.” “They don’t have a grow house, do they?” “No.” My mind is spinning. “Brother charter, though. You have to help them out when they ask, don’t you?” His mouth turns down, and his hands tighten where they’re holding on to my upper thighs. “I don’t have to do anything, Hope. It’s a brotherhood. We’re loyal to each other.” He’s explained that before. And when he says it about his clubhouse—the ones I consider his brothers: Wrath, Z, Teller, Murphy and the rest of them—I believe him. The sincerity in his voice at those times is clear. Now, the words come out like he’s reciting a script. “They help us when I need it. Whenever we’ve had shit with the Vipers, I only had to pick up the phone for Sway and his guys to be here.” “Okay. I understand.” He pins me with one of his presidential stares. “Do you?” “I’m trying.” He sighs and loosens his hold on me. “I know you are, baby. I appreciate it. How did things go with Tawny? She behave?” “I caught her giving Trinity a hard time, but I distracted her.” Rock makes a low, growly sound of irritation. “Can I ask you something?” The corner of his mouth lifts, but I ask anyway. “Is her dislike for Trinity a general club girl thing or more specific?” He snorts. “Who knows with her?” His hands slide from my hips down my thighs, tickling behind my knees, and back up, stopping just under my breasts. “Can we talk about something else now?” It’s my turn to smirk. “Somehow I don’t think talking is what you have in mind.” “You’re absolutely right, Baby Doll.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I should never take Trinity’s planning skills for granted. She’s been after me about

organizing some sort of an engagement party for weeks. Now that the downstate trip is over and things have settled down with Heidi, she’s right back in partyplanning mode. Since I have a bit of an aversion to this sort of thing, it’s honestly a relief to have her help. Rock surprises me by being game for anything. I don’t suspect there’s a lot of gruff bikers into wedding stuff, but he seems charmed by every idea Trinity presents. The contradiction between the scary biker and loving fiancé make me love him even more. Trinity has a folder of magazine clippings and menus in front of her. “I know usually the parents of the bride are supposed to—” I have to stop her. “Trinity, it’s fine. Trust me. You don’t want my mother involved.” Her smile falters. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” “Don’t apologize. It’s not like I need my mom to pay for it. Rock and I—” “I’ll take care of whatever comes up, Trinny,” Rock interrupts. “Some of them will be my guests, Rock.” He makes that face I always suspect means he’s counting to ten in his head before saying anything. Instead of answering me, he addresses Trinity. “Whatever you need, let me know.” “Rock, I have my own money.” “Making it worse, Hope,” Trinity mumbles under her breath with a sly smile. Exasperated, I give Rock a small shove. “This is women’s work. Don’t you have scary biker business to attend to?” He bursts out laughing. “Fuck, I love you,” he says, planting a kiss on my cheek as he stands. Trinity nods at him in a way that suggests they just had some sort of silent conversation over my head. Once he leaves, she turns her attention to me. “So where do you want to have it?”

“We can do it at my house. Just low key.” “Not Rock’s?” I think it over. The last time I hosted anyone else at my house, it was after Clay’s funeral. I like the idea of something a little happier being held there. It helps cement my feeling that I’m moving forward. The guilt I expected doesn’t come either, which is a relief. Of course, the next logical thing is getting rid of the damn house, but I can’t think about that right now. “Yeah, it’s a little closer for some of my friends.” “Okay.” Trinity’s busy making notes. She stops and taps her pen against her chin. “Low key. Not too simple, though. Something more than a backyard cookout. But we don’t want to scare the guys away with anything too fancy either.” She seems to be thinking out loud more than looking for any actual input from me. “Oh! How about some sort of chicken wing tasting thing? There’s the restaurant downtown that does like twenty different kinds of wings. You could have little tasting stations.” “That sounds like fun. Messy, though.” “They can do boneless. And then, so it’s not too much man food, we can have like really girly gourmet ice cream sandwiches for desert. I just read this whole article and have a bunch of recipes—” She grabs her folder and starts scattering pages all over the coffee table again. “Okay. I trust you, Trinity. That actually sounds kind of awesome.” She flashes me a bright grin and jots down more notes. “Open bar of course.” “Can you hire a bartender, though? I don’t want you serving drinks. I’ll need you to help me survive my psycho mother.” She glances up, surprise clearly written on her face. “Of course, Hope.” “I mean. You’re a guest. I want you to enjoy the party too.” Hell, I don’t know what I mean. Since Trinity isn’t an overly affectionate person, she shocks me by throwing her arms around me and squeezing tight. “I’m so happy for you two.” For some reason, I’m sniffling. “Thanks.” She jumps up off the couch, yanking me along. “Let’s go down to Wing Fling and see what they can do.” “Right now?” “Sure, why not?” she says over her shoulder as she walks over and taps on Rock’s office door. Inside, Rock, Wrath, and Z seem to be conducting a meeting of their own. Trinity leans on the door frame. “Hope and I are going to run downtown and check out a restaurant.” She gives the guys a rundown of her chicken wing idea, and they all seem to approve. Rock catches my eye, and I smile and shrug back at him. “You need one of us to go with?” Wrath asks. “Nah, we’ll be fine.” “Making any other stops?” he persists. “We’re not going to the pinup store,” she answers with a giggle.

Wrath feigns outrage, but he’s laughing too hard to be convincing. Z has no idea what’s so funny. The restaurant is smack in the middle of Empire, so of course it’s impossible to find parking. We end up walking quite a way. “Are any of your friends vegetarians?” She’s chattering and firing so many questions at me that the walk doesn’t seem so long. Once we’re inside, I feel good about the selection. The owners are friendly and more than willing to sit down with us without an appointment. I end up having to text Rock with a few dates, and we agree on one two months out. Trinity says it’s more than enough time to put this together, and I trust her. We’re standing at the register as the owner puts the information into his computer. “Kendall-North. Engagement party.” “Hope?” someone shrieks behind me. I recognize that voice and stand stock-still, praying the ground will swallow me whole. “Hope?” Trinity questions. “Can you finish up here?” I ask her softly. “Sure.” Pasting on my patient lawyer smile, I turn and greet my former sister-in-law.

“Think the girls are okay?” Wrath asks maybe an hour after they left. “Yeah. Already got a text from Hope looking for a date for the party.” “That’s good, right? You said she’s been hard to nail down.” I nod, not completely comfortable discussing this with him at the moment. “Will Lilly come to the party?” Z asks. “I assume she will. Why?” Z shrugs. “What’s wrong, brother? She still dodging you?” Wrath asks with a dickish smile. “You’re one to talk.” That’s an effective way to shut Wrath up. I’ll have to remember it. “Can we focus and get this shit done?” I ask. There’s a bunch of new security stuff Wrath wants added to our compound. Since this crosses into all of our job functions, it makes sense for the three of us to sit down together to order the hardware and work out some of the other details. So far, it’s been fine, but I’m well aware these two can only sit down and concentrate on something other than bikes or sex for so long. Before we clear out of the office, I try to get an update on Wrath’s cast.

Something he’s intensely pissed off about, according to Trinity. “Another fuckin’ week at least.” “You gonna do the physical therapy the doc suggested?” Z asks. Wrath snorts. “I’ll go and get the exercises, then do them myself.” “Good. Well, when you’re up to it, I’d like you to take Hope out to the gun range and give her some training.” Wrath’s eyebrows lift. “Yeah? You don’t want to teach your girl yourself?” “I’ll join you, but no, you can do the training. That’s your area.” “Okay. Cool. I got no problem doin’ it now. Someone’s just gotta drive me out in the side-by-side.” “It’s not urgent. I’d just like her to be more comfortable. You remember what happened when we got run off the road.” The corner of Wrath’s mouth lifts. “Yeah, but she did okay.” Z and I both cock our heads at him. “What?” “Nothing. What kind of gun you thinkin’ of having her start with?” I ask Wrath. He shrugs. “Glock three-eighty? Your little pussy-ass nine mil might be fine too.” “We’ll see how pussy it is when I put a few holes through your obnoxious ass,” I grumble. Not at all threatened, Wrath grins. “She can’t handle my Glock twenty, but maybe a revolver if she’s uncomfortable loading the magazine in an emergency. I dunno. I’ll let her test out what we got and see what she likes.” Z shakes his head. “Carrying that cannon around just makes everyone think you have a small dick.” Wrath snorts. Z turns to me. “Should be real easy for her to get a permit.” “Yeah, I don’t need to get involved in that.” I agree. I have a connection at the sheriff’s office for those of us with less-than-clean records. But being a lawyer should make it easy for Hope to get a pistol permit, so no need for me to call in any favors. The less connection she has to me the better. “Weather is supposed to be nice this week, so let me know when you’re feelin’ up to it.” “Anytime, brother.” Wrath gives me a fist-bump as I walk out of the office.

“You’re getting married again? Already?” Lynn asks in an extremely loud voice, sending shame spiraling through my body. My cheeks heat up. “How could you? My

brother’s barely cold in his grave. What’s wrong—” “Stop talking before I slap the shit out of you, lady,” Trinity snarls as she steps up beside me. My entire body trembles. I’m hot all over. Mortified doesn’t begin to cover it. Thankfully, Lynn’s mouth snaps shut and she takes a step back as she gets a good look at Trinity. While I find Trinity to be sweet and almost shy at times, I’m reminded she can be pretty damn fierce when she needs to be. Trinity grabs my arm. “We’re all set here, Hope.” Lynn’s like a cobra I can’t take my eyes off in case she strikes again. “Okay.” “Let’s go.” She steers me around Lynn. As Trinity’s hand brushes the door, Lynn grumbles something under her breath at me. “Hang on, Trin.” Feeling a little more in charge of myself, I whirl around. “What did I ever do to you, Lynn?” “You trapped my brother into marrying—” Something inside me breaks when it registers what she’s about to accuse me of. Before I know what’s happening, my palm connects with her cheek. A satisfying pop fills the air, and Lynn’s head snaps back. Through clenched teeth, I manage to get out a few final words. “I loved Clay. You, not so much. Don’t ever speak to me again, Lynn.” Trinity’s mouth is hanging open, but she takes my hand and pulls me out onto the street. “Holy shit, Hope. Nice job.” My lips twitch into an uncertain smile. “I can’t believe I did that. Oh my God.” Now that the moment is over, I’m absolutely shaking with rage. Hurt and humiliation are also present in my mind. I can’t believe Trinity witnessed me so out of control. I can’t believe the lovely couple I spent an hour going over my engagement party menu with heard the awful things Lynn said to me. I can’t believe Lynn had the nerve to suggest— “Hope? Are you okay?” We’re standing in front of the Jeep. Somehow we walked all the way here and I didn’t notice. Trinity opens my door and I slide in. All I can do is stare out the window. Next to me, she taps out a text, then sets her phone down on the console. “Buckle up, Hope. We’re going straight to the clubhouse. We’ve had enough fun for one day.”

Are you at the clubhouse?

The text from Trinity surprises me. Yes. I answer back. Bringing Hope back now. Something happened. She needs you. What the fuck? “What’s wrong?” Wrath asks. “Yo, I’m heading down to CB,” Z announces, coming out of the office. He stops when he spots us. “What’s wrong, prez?” “Got a weird text from Trinity.” I answer without looking up. “They okay?” “I think so. She says they’re on their way back now.” “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.” Wrath pulls my phone out of my hand to review the texts. “Wanna call her?” “Nah, if she’s driving, I don’t want to distract her.” “I meant Hope.” I shake my head. “They’ll be here soon.” When they get here, everything seems fine at first. Trinity laughs and jokes around with Hope. But I’ve known Trinity a long time; her laughter is forced. The girls give me a rundown of their meeting with the restaurant before Trinity takes off. “Everything okay?” I ask Hope. She glances at me with watery eyes. “Yeah. Can we go upstairs?” “Sure.” In our room, she moves like a robot while she changes into a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt of mine. Finally, she comes and sits next to me on the bed. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I hug her tight to me. “What’s wrong, baby?” “We ran into Lynn at the restaurant.” It takes me a second to remember who the hell that is. “Aw, shit, baby. I remember what a selfish bitch she was.” “Yeah, she overheard we were planning an engagement party and flipped out in front of the entire place. It was so embarrassing.” I’d love to find that bitch and fucking choke the life out of her. “What’d she say?” “Just that she couldn’t believe I was getting married again so soon. Stuff like that.” Shit. “I’m sorry.” “I slapped her, Rock. She got me so mad I actually slapped her across the face.” Hope whispers the last words while she stares down at her hand. I’m not at all sorry about the feeling of pride that surges through me. “Good. Sounds like she fucking deserved it.” Her mouth finally turns up a bit. “Yeah. I can’t tell you how many times over the years I wanted to smack her. Guess it was pent-up aggression.”

“I can imagine.” She giggles a little and leans against me. “It was just so awful. Why’d she…? Ugh.” “I don’t know why. Sounds like she’s been a miserable person for years. Probably just wanted someone to take it out on.” She’s silent for a while. “Baby, you can tell me the truth. Do you feel like it’s too soon?” Hope sucks in a deep breath before answering. “No, Rock.” Thank fuck. I don’t know what I’d do if she said yes. “It’s done. I’m glad you stood up to her.” “Me too. I think I shocked the hell out of Trinity too.” “Probably.” That’s it. We don’t discuss Lynn again. Hope moves forward… sort of. Club business pulls me away from my girl more than I care for. Loco from the Green Street Crew calls another one of his bullshit meet-and-greets. They’re our biggest customer, but they’re starting to wear on all our nerves. “He does this shit again, prez, I say we take a vote to put his ass down,” Wrath suggests at church the day after. “Simmer down.” Z pipes up. “He might be right, prez. Something stinks about this. He’s way too up in our business.” “I’ll take it under advisement.” As much as I dislike it, I need to spend some time at Crystal Ball, cleaning house, too. The phone call I had with Inga prompted me to have all the employees—not just the dancers—take a surprise drug test. Should have done this a long time ago. The results were discouraging, and in the end, a lot of people had to be cut loose, which means I need to spend time there filling in for Z and Dex. I plan to leave the hiring to them, though. I don’t think Hope’s mad about all the time I’m away from her, but it’s hard to tell because it feels like we barely talk anymore. What I do know is every fuckin’ night we’ve spent together since she ran into that fuckin’ ex-sister-in-law of hers, Hope’s been cryin’ in her sleep. At some point, she’ll turn and cling to me as if she’s trying to keep me anchored to the bed. Once the sun comes up, though, that invisible space between us comes right back. It’s so fucking thick I can’t cut my way through it. Hope’s polite but distant when we cross paths. My body’s in knots whenever I see her. I gotta fix this before we get married. If she ever sets a fuckin’ date. Lately, I’m feeling like the chick in this relationship. I keep pushing her to set a date, but she keeps making excuses. Is she having second thoughts? Has the reality of what it means to be married to me—married to the club—finally settled in? Has she decided it’s not for her, and she doesn’t know how to tell me?

I’m too fuckin chicken to ask, because if she confirms my worst fears, I don’t know what I’ll do. No. There will be a fuckin’ wedding. Even if I have to wait another two years for her. Or a lifetime. I convince myself it’s not the club. She gets along with all my brothers. They fuckin’ adore her. Even Wrath, although he’ll never admit it and he still loves pickin’ on her. It’s not the club. Unless she’s still worried about all the illegal shit we’re into. Especially after that fuckery with Sway’s club. Shit. I know how ballistic she went when she got called into the ethics board. Let’s face it. My activities endanger her career all the time. One arrest could easily get tied to her and bring all the shit right back up. Has that finally dawned on her the way it’s dawning on me?

“Babe, have you told your mother about us gettin’ married yet?” Rock asks me not long after the incident with Lynn. My entire body goes rigid at the thought. “No. After she wasn’t worried about me when I was in the hospital, I don’t see the point.” “She’s still your mother. Maybe she didn’t understand. I probably should have done more and called her back. It was just so—” “Rock, trust me. It’s not your fault. She’s always been like this. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll call her.” He nods, and I can tell he won’t be happy until I make the call. I know how stressed out he’s been lately, so I’ll just have to set aside my discomfort. My hands are shaking as I pick up the phone and dial the number. “Hello, Mother.” “Hope! Why haven’t I heard from you in so long? You have no idea what I’ve been through at work…” And as usual, my mother can’t stop talking about her favorite topic—herself. No motherly concern about my recent hospital visit. Not even a simple “how are you.” I flick my gaze to Rock, who quirks an eyebrow at me. A small part of me is embarrassed he’s about to find out how little my own mother cares about me. I long to crawl under the bed and hide. My mother continues for a good five minutes before taking a breath. “Hope, are you listening? Can you believe that?”

“No, I can’t. Um, I actually called because I have some news. I’m getting married.” “What are you talking about?” Her screechy voice makes me pull the phone away from my ear. “How can you get married again already? What’s the matter with you?” This is why I hadn’t told my mother yet.

Lead settles in my gut as I watch Hope on the phone with her mother. Why the fuck did I insist she do this? Even from that brief conversation we had while Hope was in the hospital, I could tell her mother is a piece of shit. I guess I have some guilt about yanking Hope so deep into my world. I don’t want her to feel cut off from her only remaining family. And maybe a small, selfish part of me thought talking to her mother might get her out of this funk she’s been in so she can plan our wedding. “Mother, it’s been almost two—yes. I remember. After Dad. Yes. You waited. I know—” This is a train wreck. A fuckin’ mess I caused. “Give me the phone, Hope.” She shakes her head and walks over to the corner of the room so I can barely hear her. “No, Mother. No, I’m not pregnant again. That’s not—no. He’s very good to me.” She turns and half smiles at me. “He’s a businessman. … A couple different things. … No, I still have my legal practice. It’s fine. … No, we’re going to have a low-key wedding. … Outside. I don’t know yet. … I don’t think so. Maybe.” She flashes uncertain eyes at me, and I’m not sure what’s causing that panicstricken face. “Sure, I’ll try to set something up.” I can’t take any more. She’s in the same room, but it feels like we’re miles apart. Crossing the short distance, I take her hand because I can’t not touch her for another second. Turning it over in my hand, playing with her fingers, stroking my thumb over her soft skin. Her hands always seem so delicate, small compared to mine. She glances up and flashes a nervous smile while listening to whatever her bitch of a mother says on the other end. It’s the same smile that always makes my heart stumble and want to do anything I can to protect her. “Give me the phone, Hope,” I whisper. “Okay, Mom. I need to go. We’ll talk about things soon.” She ends the call and then hands me the phone. “What was that about, baby?”

She shakes her head. “Just my mother.” She breathes out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you call her.” “It’s fine. I’d be a terrible daughter if I didn’t tell her about my own wedding, right?” I’m not sure how to answer that. She seems to be searching for an answer, not just being sarcastic. “If you guys had a normal relationship, then yeah. But if you don’t, then no. Not if it’s going to upset you, baby.” She opens her mouth, then closes it. “What?” “Nothing, Rock. Can we—I just need to lie down for a while. I don’t feel well.” Her hand drifts to her stomach, rubbing in circles. Fuck. Why couldn’t I just mind my own business? “What’s wrong?” “I don’t know,” she mumbles as she walks over to the bed and crawls under the covers. Now I’m fuckin’ scared. I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed next to her. After almost losing her, anytime she so much as sneezes, I’m on alert. “Do you need to go to the hospital?” She turns over and takes my hand. A ghost of a smile plays on her lips. “No, it’s nothing like that. My stomach is just upset.” “Okay.” Unsure, I let her be. But I can’t help thinking there’s something more I need to do for her.

Talking to my mother brought up many bad feelings. Planning my first wedding with her had been a nightmare for a lot of reasons. Reasons she so kindly reminded me of during our brief conversation. It’s probably all in my head, but I’m sick for a couple days after that call. I run a pretty high fever for a day or two and generally feel miserable. Rock’s sweet and understanding. At first. He’s out pretty much night and day. Between Crystal Ball and club business, he’s gone a lot. I try not to be clingy and whiny. I don’t ask him where he’s going or when he’ll be back. It kills me, but I sense he’s under some strain and I don’t want to add to his worries. I’ve done enough to distract him lately. I wonder if the time he spent away from the club while caring for me in the hospital and after has caused problems. When I try to ask, he brushes off my concern with a quick smile.

While I’m getting over this stomach bug, I stick to his room. I’d almost rather go home. The clubhouse is so big, and I feel so awful that walking to the kitchen for tea or toast is too much effort. Trinity says she’ll bring me whatever I want, but I hate doing that to her. Rock sets me up with water and breakfast before he leaves in the mornings. On the third day, I finally feel well enough to spend the afternoon downstairs with Trinity, watching a movie. Even though Rock’s not back from wherever he had to go, I still head to bed earlier than normal. I’m almost asleep when his heavy footsteps enter the bedroom. He flips on the light, startling me. “Sorry,” he mumbles before shutting off the overhead light and turning on a softer lamp. “Christ, Hope. Did you even get out of bed today?” I bolt upright at his words and tone. Rock’s never spoken to me like that.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Y et another bullshit meeting with Loco. I tried to do the right thing and warn the

little fuck we might not be able to meet his increased demands. We can rally our regular delivery, but the extra amounts he squeezed me for at our last two meetings might be an issue. “You call off your western run?” Loco asks me with a straight face. This motherfucker up in my business again. I swear to fuck I want to kill him. I should have kept my mouth shut. My mistake for trying to treat a gangster with the respect of a normal businessman. This aspect of outlaw life is the same as working a fucking retail job. Even when my customers irritate the fuck out of me, I’m still under an obligation to maintain a certain level of friendliness. “Yeah, man, they’re aware of the situation. Sparky’s working his magic to pull the additional amount together in time for your drop.” My emphasis on additional doesn’t make any impression that I can detect. “I’ll allow you an extra two weeks, Rock. That’s the best I can do.” Allow? I’m not gonna allow you to walk out of here without a few holes in your lungs if you keep that shit up. “Thanks, man. We shouldn’t need it. Appreciate it, though.” I don’t appreciate any of this. Loco has been a constant pain in my ass. But until I can get some other things in place, I gotta pretend I don’t want to gut him and toss his body in the Hudson River. The Hudson River. Mere feet from where we’re standing. Fuck, it’s tempting. Although it’s galling me to no end—and Wrath almost lost his shit when we took a vote on it—I hand over one of the short barrel rifles Sway gave us. It’s a high-end piece for a street thug, but Loco expressed some interest in obtaining one for his personal collection the last time we met. He looks through the bag. Probably searching for ammunition to go with the weapon. Fucker won’t find any. I’m not completely suicidal. “Daaamn, brotha. Where’d you come up with this?” He knows full well I don’t appreciate being called “brother” by anyone who isn’t a Lost King. “Sort of fell in our lap. But you said you were looking for something along those

lines.” He cocks his head and stares at me. “Thought your crew was outta guns?” He persists. “We are. That’s a one-time gift. Thanks for your business and all.” I hate every fucking second of this little game. Loco nods and runs his hand over his chin. I just know whatever he’s going to say next will piss me off. “Rock, be straight with me. Shit like this don’t fall outta trees. Word on the street is your charter down south handles this kind of merchandise.” I shrug. He smirks in response. “I also hear they got a problem with Shadow Nation pushing up out of NYC into his territory.” Sway never mentioned the name of the crew he’s having trouble with. “I don’t have details.” “Listen, I know your boys down there ain’t as… colorblind as you are,” he says. This is true. While I don’t care about the color of anyone’s skin as long as they deal with me fairly, I can’t say that’s true of everyone in my world. “Introduce me.” Like fuck. “Can’t.” “I ain’t askin’ you to get involved. Just make the introduction.” Yeah, except I know what’ll happen. I’m the one in the area, so when problems come up, one of them will be contacting me. It’s a slippery slope I don’t want to set foot on. “We got a long history, Rock. Your word will have some sway down there.” His smirk tells me he’s done his research. While he annoys me no end, Loco and his crew have been loyal customers for years. He’s never overtly threatened me. He is pissing me off lately wanting to dominate my entire supply. Although, the more I think about it, in Loco’s twisted, gangster brain, he probably thinks he’s doing me a favor. “I’ll take it to the table.” One eyebrow shoots up. Yes, asshole, that’s how our brotherhood works. Gotta put shit like this to a vote. I keep the thought to myself. He wouldn’t understand. We shake hands and go our separate ways. Thankfully, he left his entourage behind this time. Z and I meet up at Crystal Ball and head back to the clubhouse. After I fill him in on the meeting, he groans. “Jesus Christ, we can’t get involved in that, prez. Wrath might be right.” “Yeah, I’d like to avoid it too. I’m gonna put some feelers out to Ulfric and Stump, but they’ve never been able to move that much product. Sway mentioned he might have a connection down his way.” Z shakes his head. “You know what that’ll mean.” Yes. What’s worse? Possibly getting involved in Loco’s gun dealing with Sway from time to time, or having Sway involved in every single transaction I make with his contact? Neither option appeals to me.

I don’t have to say anything. Z knows what I’m thinking. His hand smacks against the dashboard. “Fuck. Empire’s stable right now. We go messing with GSC, that’s gonna leave their turf vulnerable, and who the fuck knows who ends up taking their place?” I’d like to say, “They can all kill each other for all I care.” But what I actually say is, “My concern is losing our largest income stream. We don’t have the manpower and we don’t need the exposure of taking on the distribution end of things.” “Be a lot more money in it, though.” He’s right. “A lot more risk,” I remind him. “Besides, you feel like standing around weighing out nickel and dime bags all day? I sure as fuck don’t.” He chuckles, then turns serious. “Prez, we’ve been managing our money well for years now. We could take the hit and wait out any shakeup.” This is true. Teller’s done a good job since he took over as our treasurer. Our former president became intoxicated with the large amounts of cash rolling in off his brothers’ backs and spent it recklessly. Managing our money properly and for the benefit for the whole club was our first priority when Wrath, Z, and I took over. Still, there are a lot of us to support. “I know. I’d rather not if we can help it.” “CB still brings in a shit ton of cash,” he reminds me. “Yeah, okay.” “I’m just sayin’ we’ll get through this. Don’t stress so much.” One corner of my mouth lifts. “Someone has to worry about big picture stuff, pretty boy.” “Fuck you,” he jokes back. When we get to the clubhouse, I call a meeting. It’s informal since not all the brothers are on the property. I have to physically go downstairs and bring Sparky up to the war room where Wrath, Z, and Murphy are waiting. Stash is miraculously out. “Prez, the plants are doin’ better,” he assures me as soon as we’re all seated. “Thank fuck.” I give everyone a rundown of my meet with Loco. Wrath shakes his head, then turns to Sparky. “The plants gonna be affected by this?” “You mean their potency? It’s possible.” “We can’t get a rep for selling shitty ditch weed, prez,” Wrath grumbles as if I don’t know this. “Probably shouldn’t have even told the little fuck we were having issues.” “Yeah. That’s on me,” I answer. “We’ll take a vote closer to the drop date. What’s worse: not delivering top product, or not delivering at all?” Murphy pipes up. “We really gotta vote on that, prez? No product at all will fuck us royally.” “Yeah, but a shitty product could fuck us long term,” Wrath says.

Sparky bristles at the way Wrath refers to his plants. I stand, signaling the meeting is over. “We’re not going to solve this tonight. Just wanted to keep everyone informed.” I point at Murphy. “Fill Teller in?” “Yeah, of course.” Now that business is taken care of, I’m eager to get upstairs. Hope’s been sick, and I’ve been neglecting her. She’s had me worried for days but refuses to see the doctor, saying it’s nothing. Without thinking, I flip on the overhead light when I walk in the bedroom. Hope shakes herself, blinking at me with bleary eyes. It’s no excuse, but I’m so irritated from the other shit going on that I end up snapping at her. “Christ, Hope. Did you even get out of bed today?” She sits up, the hurt and shock written clearly on her face. “What?” she snaps back at me. “You’re asleep when I leave. You’re asleep when I get back—” Why am I doing this to her? Why can’t I keep my fucking mouth shut? Fury turns her cheeks red. She tosses back the covers and scrambles out of bed to face me. Arms crossed over her chest, eyes flashing fire. “How the fuck would you know what I did today? You’ve been gone sunrise to fucking midnight, Rock.” Good. Fight me. Do something. This is the most animated I’ve seen her in days. “I’ve got shit to handle.” “I know. And I’ve been trying not to bother you, but don’t you dare come in here and speak to me—” I started it, but I’m too much of a pussy to finish it, so I storm into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Part of me wants her to barge in and yell at me some more. I fuckin’ deserve it. When I get out of the shower, the lights in the bedroom are all off. I make out Hope’s form curled over on her side, facing away from me. Crawling into bed with her is awkward. I know she’s not asleep. Her breath hitches. I made her fuckin’ cry. Pulling her to me sets everything she’d been trying to hold in loose. In my arms, she shakes and sobs. I bury my nose in her hair, kissing her. “Baby, I’m sorry I’m bein’ such a dick. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Please don’t cry.” Every tear she’s ever shed has cut me. I can’t stand hearing my girl upset over anything. But the tears she’s crying because of me? Because of pain I’ve caused her by being an asshole? Those stick in my throat like shards of glass. “Hope.” I manage a hoarse whisper. She turns, her soft body sliding against me, and wraps her arms around me tight. I don’t deserve her forgiveness, but I’m grateful for it. Her cheek is still damp against my chest, searing my skin. “What’s happening?” she finally asks, sounding very small and broken. The words “I don’t know” roll around in my mouth, but I hold them in because

they’re a lie. After a while, she shifts a little but keeps her arms around me. “You feeling any better, Baby Doll?” She nods, the soft skin of her cheek brushing against my chest. “Yeah. I went downstairs to hang out with Trinity for a while. I tried to stay up and wait for you, but I was tired.” Fuck, I’m an asshole. “I’m sorry.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Do I? It’s club business. I’ve already told Hope more about the club than I think any guy I’ve known in this life has told his ol’ lady. Christ, in another MC, I’d probably get shot for all the shit I’ve shared with her. When it takes me so long to answer, Hope sighs and attempts to turn over. “Stop, Baby Doll. I’m just thinking how to explain—” “I know I’m not clever at the criminal stuff like you guys are, but I’m not stupid. Maybe I can help.” I know she didn’t mean it as a dig, but hearing my girl so casually refer to me as a criminal—even though I know damn well that’s what I am—fuckin’ stings. But I’ve already made her cry once tonight. Picking another fight over something so stupid isn’t what I want to do, so I simmer the fuck down and take a breath. “Remember Sparky’s sick plants?” She sort of gasps and struggles to sit up. “Oh my gosh. I’m such an idiot.” I grab her hand and tug her back down. “What are you talking about?” “Logically, I understood you’re not growing all that for personal consumption.” I snort. “No, babe.” “But I didn’t think beyond what the sick plants meant.” Of course she understands what’s going on right away. “Yes. Our buyer increased the amount he wants, and if that crop isn’t ready, it’ll cause problems.” “Oh.” She’s quiet for a moment, thinking through the implication of my words. “It’s not just a matter of lost money, is it? “No.” “Is this person dangerous?” “Yes and no. He’s a gangster with ambition.” She snorts. “Sounds dangerous to me.” “Yeah. The guys and I had a short meeting when I got back. Sparky says the plants are getting better. He wants to stretch their flowering stage to give us more yield, but we don’t have the time.” “Wow, I was wrong. I don’t have any useful advice.” I huff out a laugh and kiss the top of her head. “I appreciate you tryin’.” “Is this… person your only customer?” “No. That’s the other problem. I’ve had to pull a delivery I promised to a new customer. I’m trying to broaden our customer base, and the gangster wants to keep us dependent on his crew.”

“So you’re basically trying to diversify your portfolio?” Okay, how can I not laugh at that? She’s so fuckin’ cute. She thumps my chest to get my attention. “You can’t expand too much, though. You only have so much room down there.” “True.” “Even if Sparky says the plants are recovering… will they still be as, I don’t know, good?” My smile is wasted in the dark. But yeah, my girl catches on quick. “There’s some concern about that. We have a certain reputation.” “Oh, I imagine Sparky only wants to produce the best. That’s why the gangster wants you all to himself.” It’s not a question. She definitely has a grasp of the situation now. “Why not set up some sort of blind test and have some of your regular hangarounds or whatever give you an opinion?” I open my mouth, then reconsider. It’s actually not a bad idea. Sparky likes getting opinions on his new strains. This wouldn’t be much different. “It wouldn’t be scientific,” Hope says in a rush, like she’s worried I’m going to dismiss her idea. “No. It’s a good idea. We don’t have a ton to spare for something like that.” I can think of at least two guys who would be perfect for the task. “I’ll bring it up in church.” We’re quiet for a while. Her hand keeps restlessly brushing against my chest, so she hasn’t fallen asleep. “Hope?” “Yes,” she whispers so soft I feel the word more than hear it. “I’m sorry about before.” “I know you are.” “Forgive me?” She doesn’t hesitate. “Always.” Shit, that one fucking word tears me up inside. It takes me a second to notice, but her hand keeps drifting lower. “Hope,” I warn, halting her exploration. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” “Oh, I plan to finish.”

The nightmares I started having after the run-in with my sister-in-law ease up

after Rock confides in me. But for some reason, I’m still paralyzed. Rock’s even noticed I’m not into planning our wedding, and now that I know the extent of what he’s dealing with, I feel even worse. There’s no way I can explain to him why I’m having so much anxiety about the wedding. Not when he’s involved in such a delicate dilemma with some… gangster. Compared to the pressure he’s under, my angst seems insignificant and stupid. I can’t waste his energy or distract him with my nonsense. I just need a little time to work things through on my own. Hopefully, by then, the club’s situation will have improved, and I’ll tell him everything. Lately, all the guys seem to be on edge. The lazy, easygoing atmosphere that usually permeates the clubhouse is thick with tension. When I get a call from Empire Canvassing asking me to come in for an interview, I jump at the chance to get away from the clubhouse. Lilly’s friend explained how the lobbying firm he works for represents a lot of the groups pushing for New York to legalize marijuana. That he decided to call me now strikes me as perversely funny. Given Rock’s…business, I feel compelled to explore this job opportunity. Of course, I don’t think my interviewers will take “my husband-to-be is a marijuana trafficker” as an appropriate response to the standard “why do you want to work here” question, but I have a few days to figure it out. Rock doesn’t exactly share my enthusiasm about this new career path. Something he makes abundantly clear during dinner one night. “Remember that lobbyist I told you Lilly and I had lunch with?” Rock stares at me, so I explain in a rush. “The one who said his firm represents those tech companies trying to get marijuana legalized in New York?” Understanding flares in Rock’s eyes and he nods. Wrath pins me with one of his icy glares. Flustered, it dawns on me a little too late that I should have had this conversation with Rock when we were alone. “Well, his company wants to interview me for a position. They need an attorney…” No one speaks. It’s awkward. I realize I might be treading into territory the club won’t approve of, and I’m not sure how I feel about that. Stupid. Yes, I understand they voted me in and they seem to accept me. That doesn’t mean bringing women into the inner business dealings is something the MC embraces. “That’s great, Baby Doll. You’d be good at it. Sounds like it would be full time, though. Are you sure that’s what you want to do?” Rock finally says. Is this his way of telling me he doesn’t want me to take the job?

I have to give Wrath credit—he manages to wait until the girls leave the table before tearing into me. Trinity seemed to sense we were about to have a blowout, so I think that s why she had a sudden need to take Hope outside to look at some stuff for the garden. “Prez, you need to shut that shit down.” Ignoring him, I finish my dinner and sit back, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why? I think it’s funny as fuck.” Z’s keepin’ an eye on both of us. I don’t think he’s decided which side to land on. “Listen, it’s one thing to let her know what we’re into so she can make an informed decision about spending so much time here. And I do trust her.” I let out a deep breath. “But we barely have the county sheriff and Empire PD out of our business. You really think having your wife running around out there advocating for reform is a good way to stay under the radar?” As much as I hate to admit it, he has a point. Z finally weighs in. “You’re going worst-case scenario, bro. It’s so close to being legalized. No one’s gonna come knocking on our door because of where she works.” Z glances at me, and I nod to encourage him since he seems to be on my side. “Cops have seen us doing a lot of good down in Empire for years. The MC keeps the really bad shit out, which makes their jobs easier, and they look the other way. Lotta charities quietly supported by us, too.” He sits back but keeps his eyes on Wrath. “Besides, Hope’s as wholesome and respectable as it gets. Having someone like her advocating for reform can only be a good thing.” He turns toward me, and this time I know whatever he’s about to say I won’t like. “Besides, you hooked up with a lawyer only looks good for us.” He shrugs and glances at Wrath. “She wouldn’t be with him if he was some big-time drug dealer, right?” “Thanks, asshole.” His face remains neutral. “Calm down. I’m not saying I think that. I’m saying that’s what it might suggest to outsiders.” Wrath jerks his chin at me. “Why you encouraging this anyway? You know damn well you don’t want her away from you for forty-some hours a week.” At first I was amused, but this entire situation quickly got out of hand. Deep down in a place I’d rather not acknowledge, I’m annoyed with Hope for sticking me in this position.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

B etween our compromised crop, GSC taking up residence in my lower colon, and

Hope’s despondency, I’m close to my breaking point. As if all that shit isn’t giving me enough of an ulcer, I get a call from the president of the Wolf Knights MC. Their territory borders ours, and we enjoy a friendly, respectful relationship. We’ve definitely teamed up to handle our other rival—the Vipers—a lot in the last few years. Other than that, we don’t generally do social calls. Except Wrath, who has a working relationship with the sergeant-at-arms of their club, through his gym. Maybe once or twice a year, I’ll close down Crystal Ball and host a party where the two clubs mix, just to keep things friendly. Ulfric isn’t looking for a party invitation tonight. The daughter of one of his members disappeared. Right off the street in downtown Slater—his territory. “She’s twenty, and you fuckin’ know how they are. Nose always buried in their cell phones, not payin’ fuckin’ attention.” Ulfric’s worked up, and I can’t blame him. “You sure it’s Viper? That’s pretty fuckin’ bold pullin’ that shit right in your territory.” “No, I don’t fuckin’ know for sure,” he snaps. “Someone saw her get pulled into one of those pedo vans with the blacked-out windows. Who the fuck else would it be?” A lotta people, but I keep that thought to myself for now. “Gimmie her description. I know a guy with an in. I’ll see what I can find out.” “That gonna cost you?” It’ll fuckin’ cost me all right, ‘cause my “in” is fuckin’ Loco, who’s already such a pain in my goddamn ass the thought of askin’ the gangsterfuck for a favor is making me see red. “Yeah. Give me a day at least.” “Fuck, Rock. I appreciate it. Cops won’t do a motherfuckin’ thing. Told us she probably ran off with a boyfriend and we should handle it ‘in house.’” That’s a bad sign that Ulfric doesn’t have any friends in the Slater PD willing to appease him in this matter. Especially since they’re known to be one of the

shadiest police departments in the area, and I know Ulfric drops a lot of cash to them on a regular basis. “That’s a problem, my friend.” “Yeah, no shit. Let me know what you find out.” As soon as I’m off the phone with him, I put in my call to Loco. He’s naturally a dick, as I suspected. “Rock, this is a pretty big favor. You ready to do that thing we talked about?” “I’m working on it,” I grit out through clenched teeth. While I mentioned the introduction Loco wants me to make, we didn’t take an official vote on it yet. Thank fuck all I need is a majority, ‘cause I know for sure Wrath’s vote will be a big, fat, fucking no. “Okay. Stay close to your phone. I’ll see what I can find out,” he promises. It’s so late, there’s not much chance I’ll hear from him tonight. I’m very relieved to end my day and go upstairs to see my girl. Things have been tense between us ever since she announced her job interview. She seems to think I’m more upset about it than I actually am. Other than the brief discussion Z, Wrath, and I had, I haven’t had time to give it a lot of thought. Ultimately, if it will make her happy, I want her to do it. Unfortunately, my bullshit day isn’t over. Motherfuckin’ Loco gets back to me quicker than I expected and wants to meet. Tonight. Now. Another fuckin’ night away from my girl when we’re already on shaky ground. “I think you’ll be pleased. This time I got a delivery for you.” Oh yeah, I’m fuckin’ thrilled. I round up my guys and give Ulfric a heads up. There’s no fuckin’ way he’s coming with us to meet Loco, but I do want him close by if this is what I think it is. “Don’t know it’s your girl. Hang at CB for a bit. I’ll come to you when I’m done.” “Yeah. Sorry to be draggin’ you into my bullshit, Rock. Having you and your crew out in the goddamn middle of the night like this ain’t right. I owe you.” And I know he’ll repay his debt. Ulfric’s an honorable guy, and he’s helped us out in the past when we’ve needed it. Teller needs to be reminded of this when he starts bitching about the drive down to Empire. “Two hours tops. Small price to pay for a club that’s had our back more than once. Quit fuckin’ whining,” Z grumbles. Murphy has no opinions, which is surprising. Usually he’s full of them. Wrath insists on joining us since we’re taking the van. I gotta run up to my room and grab some stuff before we can leave. So wrapped up in whatever she’s looking at, Hope doesn’t hear me enter the room. Ulfric’s words rattle in my memory. My girl’s never aware of her surroundings either. Except she should feel safe and secure enough to lose herself in a book or whatever the fuck she’s doing when she’s in my clubhouse.

I’m just on fuckin’ edge because of this shit goin’ on tonight. Edgy and irritable. “What you looking at, babe?” She startles and glances up, slamming the book shut and tucking it under the blanket at the foot of her lounge chair. Odd. “Nothing. Is everything okay?” No. Everything is not okay. But I can’t talk about this with Hope because I don’t even know what this is yet. Besides, I can’t shake the sense she’s hiding something from me lately, and I’m determined to figure out what it is. “I’m fine. What was that?” “Nothing.” She gets up and walks toward me, but the worry lines etched in her face have me on alert. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” She’s infuriating. “Stop saying nothing, Hope.” She glares at me and crosses her arms over her chest. But her posture is to cover up something else. The anguish in her eyes is clear. Panic blazes through me because somehow I’m failing her, and I don’t know how to fix it. It’s obvious she’s been crying, but she’s trying to hide it from me for some reason. “Hope, I’m tired of you not talking to me. Something’s bothering you, and you need to tell me.” Her lips part, but she stops herself and rolls her eyes. “This again? I’m fine. Stop making shit up. Are you still mad about the interview? Fine, I won’t go. Does that make you happy?” “It’s not about the interview. Fuckin’ go or don’t. I don’t give a shit.” Her lower lip trembles. I should have said it a little nicer, but it really isn’t about the interview or even the past few days. Whatever this is has been brewing since her run-in with that fuckin’ sister-in-law of hers and the following conversation with her sorry excuse for a mother that I pushed her into. Somehow I just know I didn’t get the full story about either event. “Why do you keep trying to pick a fight with me, Rock?” “That what you think?” “I know it. You’re mad at me all the time lately.” “I’m not.” She shakes her head, hugging her arms tighter to her chest. “You call Wing Fling or whatever the place is back yet?” I don’t even know why I’m asking. At the moment, I couldn’t give two fucks about it. But I know by the way she flinches what her answer will be. “Not yet.” “Why are you stalling?” That fuckin’ flinch again. Fuck, now she is pissing me off. “Rock! We gotta go!” Murphy shouts from the hallway.

Her gaze skips to the door, then back to me. “You’re going out?” “I gotta handle something.” She nods. I swear to fuck Hope is the only woman I’ve ever known who can nod sarcastically. My club bullshit has to be wearing her down. I knew it would eventually. I can’t be some nine-to-five drone for her. I’ve never lied to her about that, and I think she’s finally starting to get it. She seemed okay when I opened up to her about our business, but maybe it forced her to rethink our situation. Maybe she’s rethinking us. “Look. Maybe we need to slow down. Take a break from everything. You don’t seem like you’re into gettin’ married.” The words tumble out of my mouth like garbage. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why did I even say that? I don’t mean a word of it. Yet I don’t take back the words. She gasps and tears fill her eyes. I didn’t mean to make her cry, again, but I don’t know what else to do to get through to her. I can’t fix this if she won’t tell me what’s wrong. “You don’t…” She trails off and stands there staring at her hand. At her ring. Fuck. My girl’s got a fuck ton of pride. I should know better by now. What I’m doing is not the way to handle her. From experience, I know she copes with stress by running. She stiffens her spine and jerks her chin up. “Okay. If that’s what you want.” No, that’s not what I fucking want at all. But we’re locked into some sort of game of relationship chicken, both of us too proud to call it off. Both of us about to lose. In a trance, I watch as she slips off her ring and sets it on my dresser. “I’ll, uh, go home and—” There’s one big fuckin’ problem. If we lived together, she wouldn’t be able to run away every time shit gets uncomfortable for her. “Yeah, whatever. I’m done. I gotta go.” I have to get out of here. I’m a fuckin’ coward for daring her to leave like that. With my head all fucked up, I have to go take care of business. I despise this feeling of being torn in two. I should stay and tell her I’m sorry, I don’t mean it, and shake the truth out of her. But I don’t.

Leaving the clubhouse is easy. Stunned, I wait in Rock’s room until I hear the last of the guys leave. Before I go, I pluck a piece of paper and a pen out of my purse and scratch out a quick note. If I leave it under his pillow, I know he’ll see it. It’s too risky to pack up all my crap. I can’t chance Trinity trying to stop me. I can’t tell her what just happened, because I’m not even sure what to say. I grab a few things I need and leave. Head held high. No tears. This is for the best. That’s all that goes through my head on the way home. Rock’s under a lot of stress. If I keep adding to it, he’s going to get distracted and end up getting hurt. This is for the best. But it still hurts so fucking much.

CHAPTER TWENTY

W hen I get back three hours later, I’m not surprised Hope’s gone.

We successfully delivered the girl into Ulfric’s hands, and I washed my hands of the whole thing. Turns out she was shacked up with one of Loco’s guys. I explained the ridiculous situation to Ulfric—which included the words ‘kidnap fantasy,’ mind you—right in front of the girl. Her mortification didn’t lessen my irritation in the slightest. I feel for Ulfric, though. He cashed in a big favor—or rather had me cash in one—on what amounted to childish bullshit. He’s pretty fuckin’ embarrassed. I’m as gracious as can be for a guy who just torched his engagement. Yeah, I basically dared Hope to leave, and if anything, my stubborn girl never backs down from a challenge. Her fucking ring sits on the dresser, mocking me. I shove it in a box and stuff it in the back of one of my dresser drawers. She left a note tucked under my pillow. Too numb, I fold it up without reading it and stash it in my nightstand. After the shit I pulled, there’s no way she’s coming back tonight. If she comes back at all. Why did I have to go and fuck up everything with the only woman I’ve ever given a shit about? I should call her. My gaze catches on her bookshelf, everything still in its place. A glance in her closet helps the knot in my chest loosen. My messy girl’s clothes are thrown everywhere. Like always. Maybe we’re not doomed after all. As I drop onto her lounge chair, her scent wraps around me. Somehow it makes me more miserable. Something digs into the side of my thigh, and I yank it out. The book she’d been flipping through when I barged in and acted like such an asshole. Except it’s not a book. It’s her wedding album. Fuck. Do I… should I… open it? It’s heavy in my hands. White with scrolling gold designs on the front. The first shots are all Hope. So fuckin’ young. All wrapped up in white lace and satin, she made a beautiful bride—no surprise there. Her face is fuller, but I

recognize a lot of the same expressions she makes now. There’s an older woman who looks a lot like Hope that I assume is her mother. In every picture of them together, the tension in Hope’s face is clear. Sophie doesn’t look much different than she does now. She’s in most of the shots, helping Hope get ready. I recognize Lilly by her rack. Mara’s there too. Clay’s sister looked like a bitch even back then. It’s hard to look at the photos of Clay, knowing what’s comin’ for the poor bastard in a few short years. Knowing I’m in the shadows waitin’ to steal his wife. Fuck. Through all the chaos of the day, they seem happy together. The last photo is the newlyweds standing nose to nose, staring into each other’s eyes That one’s the hardest. Something slips out of the back of the album, fluttering to the floor. Snatching it up and turning it over, I freeze. Even a guy like me knows what a fuckin’ sonogram picture looks like. Kendall, Hope in unmistakable black and white, right next to a very clear date. I flip to the front of the wedding album. She was pregnant when they got married. Did they get married because she was pregnant? Obviously something happened. I try to think back to when we first met. I’d wondered if she’d been with her husband for so long, why didn’t they have any kids? I remember when I proposed, how anxious she was about the possibility of not being able to have children. She worried I’d end up hating her. Has she suspected all along she might have some problem? I don’t think so, because she seemed surprised in the hospital. Why wouldn’t she confide in me about this? I’ve tried telling her how much I don’t care. She’s all that matters to me. I stare at the picture again and a spark of anger lights in my chest. After what we went through together—she almost died—why the fuck didn’t she tell me about this? Did she think I wouldn’t want to hear about something that involved Clay? Does she think I’m really that much of a jealous dick? Christ, I think of all the times she’s busted my ass over being honest with her. But she’s been hiding this from me since day one.

Over the last week, I’ve picked up the phone to call Rock dozens of times. But I never follow through. I leave the tracking app installed on my phone. He knows where to find me. After spending so much time at the clubhouse, being back in my house again is quiet and lonely. Work suddenly picks back up. Adam has some cases he needs me to help him with, and it feels good to have something else to focus on. Coming home every night is dismal. It doesn’t feel like home anymore. Any happy memories have been tainted by all the sadness I’ve gone through since Clay died. I know it’s time to let it go because it just feels empty. I’ve never been so alone. Even after Clay died, I was wallowing in so much grief at least I didn’t know how alone I was. Now that I’ve had Rock in my life, a taste of what it’s like to be part of a family, the loneliness is prominent. Every day, when I come home from the office, I expect to find Rock waiting in my driveway. He never is, so I spend the rest of my nights convincing myself I’m not disappointed. I’m scared I might have finally irrevocably pushed him away. I struggle to keep moving forward. I don’t know what to do. Should I call Rock? I can’t bear the thought of him rebuffing my attempt to make things better. What does he want from me? Even worse, does he want me anymore? “Jeez, Hope. Would it kill you to answer your damn phone once in a while?” Mara scolds me Friday night. Crap. “Sorry, Mara. I’m a bad friend. I don’t know why you put up with me.” And I don’t. Calling people, maintaining friendships, has never come naturally to me. I hate to bother people or burden them with my problems. Mara has a beautiful baby girl to take care of. She doesn’t need to hear me whine about my broken engagement. Besides, I hate needing people. You get used to it, and then suddenly they’re gone. Rock was different. He needed me to need him, so after getting over my initial awkwardness, it didn’t seem so odd. Then I screwed it up, so once again, I have no one. “Hope, are you there?” Mara snaps me back to the present. “I’m here.” “Good. I need some adult girl time. You up for it?” There’s no sense in isolating myself further. “I guess. What did you have in mind?” “Gee, don’t sound so enthusiastic.” Her aggrieved voice makes me laugh for the first time in days. “Sorry. Yes, Mara, that sounds awesome! There, is that better?” “Not really. What’s Sophie up to? Maybe we need her to spice things up.” “I don’t know. I spoke to her a little while ago, told her what happened, but

haven’t heard from her since.” I just assumed Sophie was sick of dealing with my drama, so I hadn’t wanted to bug her anymore, but I keep that to myself. Mara’s soft chuckle is comforting. I’ve missed her. While Sophie was my wild friend in law school, the one I went to concerts and barhopping with, Mara was my study buddy. There are definitely some classes I wouldn’t have made it through if it hadn’t been for her. All those late-night sessions in the library forged a pretty strong friendship, even if we don’t always keep in regular contact. When we do get together, it’s always as if no time has gone by. “Anyway,” she says, breaking into my thoughts again. “Damon is taking Cora to visit his mother this weekend. How about a girls’ night?” “Why aren’t you going?” “Because I’ve been a good girl and my reward is not having to visit Mrs. Oak,” she says without any laughter, but I envision her biting her lip not to giggle on the other end. I forgot how much Mara doesn’t care for her socialite mother-in-law. I imagine that makes life difficult for Damon, but he always seems to put Mara’s needs first. Saturday night, we dress up and go to the movies of all things. It’s fine because I’m so inside my head, I don’t have the energy to keep up a conversation. I should know better, though. Mara is a master at interrogation when she wants to be. She should have been in the military. We’re back at her house and on our second glass of red wine when she pounces. “So did you call Rock yet?” “No. He knows where to find me.” She gives me a withering look. “It’s not like you to play games, Hope.” “I’m not. He ended it. I’m not going to grovel for him to take me back.” That’s a lie, though. I’d do anything to be back in his arms. “Did he end it? Or did you shut him out until he didn’t know what else to do?” That feels uncomfortably close to the truth, so I ignore it. Her two French bulldogs, Bing and Macy, jump up on the couch. Bing snorts as he makes his way into my lap. I can’t help scratching behind his big bat ears, making him snort even louder. “He loves you,” Mara says with a chuckle. “I missed these little guys.” Bing curls into a ball and falls asleep in my lap. I keep petting him absently as he snores. “How do they feel about Cora?” “Oh my God, they love her. They follow her everywhere. Mostly because she leaves a trail of food in her wake.” She rubs Macy’s plump tummy affectionately. “But I think they’re enjoying the peace and quiet.” “I can imagine. What about you?” “I never thought I’d like being a mother so much, Hope. But even so, I need some peace and quiet too every now and then.” “Think you’ll have another one?” Her mouth twists into a smirk. “If Damon has his way, yes.” I’m happy for my friend. I can’t help feeling a little sad about my own defects in

the baby-making department, though. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, Hope. I know you think you’re strong and independent. And you are. But you of all people aren’t meant to be alone. You’re so sweet and so full of love. You need someone to share it with. Beyond that, you need someone to anchor you and push you when you need a push.” She says it all in a rush, but each word reaches me like a pinprick in my heart. At the word “anchor,” my hand automatically reaches up and my fingers trace the pendant Rock gave me. An image of the tattoo with my name inked on his hip flashes in my mind, and I almost choke on my wine. I snort to cover up how vulnerable her words make me feel. “Yeah, he pushed me right out the door.” Mara flings a don’t bullshit me scowl at me. “I’ve known you a long time now. Clay never challenged you. Rock seems like he’s good at that. Even more so, he seems to understand the real you. What you need.” “You don’t think Clay did, do you?” Mara sighs and looks away. “Honey, I’m not going to speak ill of Clay. I liked him. He was always nice. I know he cared about you. But I don’t know. You two always seemed so independent of each other.” “We had demanding careers.” “I have no right to judge. I don’t know what you had behind closed doors. No one does but you. You pretend to be hard. To be a lawyer, you have to be as tough as the boys are. Believe me, I understand that. But you’re so soft under that tough exterior. You should be with someone who gets that about you.” I pfft into my wine glass. “Rock says that’s what he likes about me. His friend Wrath says Rock needs my softness.” “See? And you need his hardness.” I burst out laughing. Mara holds up her hand. “Let it pass, Hope,” she demands with a regal but teasing expression. Once we have the giggles under control, she continues. “He’s hard and demanding. But from what you’ve told me, and what I’ve seen, he takes care of you. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re soft, but you’re not weak.” “I feel pretty damn weak.” “I understand that. I do. But it’s not weak to need someone. It’s okay to let him take care of you. He needs to be needed, and you need to feel wanted. Together you’re—” If she says “complete,” I’ll burst into tears. “Is this some sort of strength through submission lecture?” From her doleful eyes, even my alcohol-addled brain recognizes that was a pretty rude thing to say. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “It’s okay. A couple years ago, I probably would have felt the same way.” Her downcast voice shames me even more. “It just feels very one-sided.”

Mara shakes her head, red-gold curls bouncing from side to side. I’m relieved she has a more cheerful expression back in place. “It’s not, though. Those kinds of men are enriched by having someone to take care of. Besides, I bet there are a lot of things you do for Rock that you don’t even realize.” My mouth quirks up. “Besides the obvious.” “I don’t know about that.” But I remember our trip to Sway’s clubhouse. Besides the scorching sex, he said I made things better for him just by being there. “Maybe.” “Hell, I’m pretty much talking out of my ass here. Feel free to blame it on the wine.” I reach over and squeeze her hand. “No, you’re not.” “You gave the ring back, huh?” “Of course.” “How much of your stuff had you moved into his place?” “I don’t know. Just clothes. Some books. I keep waiting to find everything dumped on my doorstep.” She arches a brow at me. “You left stuff behind?” “Yeah.” She makes a happy humming noise. “What?” “Nothing.” She pins me with her courtroom stare. Thank God we’ve never been on opposite sides of a case before. “You ever going to get rid of your house?” “What?” She shrugs. “I don’t know. Just seemed like you were half in, half out with Rock. Probably drove him nuts.” “What are you talking about?” “Were you planning to have him move into your house?” “No. That would probably be uncomfortable for him. We never—no.” Thinking over the last few months, one thing pops in my head. “He did ask me about it a while ago, but I said I wasn’t ready.” “Let me guess.” She sighs knowingly. “He never mentioned it again?” “No.” “You probably hurt his feelings.” “What? I doubt it.” I shake my head. No. That’s not possible. “Goddamn, you’re dense. Just because he’s a hard ass doesn’t mean he doesn’t have feelings.” I want to snap at her, except she’s right and I know it. “When he proposed, he brought me to a site he picked out on the club’s property to build a house on,” I whisper. “Wow. That’s awfully romantic. You’re an idiot. He wants to build you a friggin’ house. Build a life with you.” She shakes her head and finishes her wine. I wave my free hand in the air. “You moved into Damon’s house,” I point out

like a whiny child. Mara of course calls me on it. “Nice try. But he’d only lived here a few months and never with another woman.” Bing lifts his head and snorts at me. Jeez, even Mara’s dogs are judgmental. “You remember how excited Clay and I were when we finally were able to afford our own house?” She nods. “I remember, honey.” “Both of us moved around so much when we were kids. We so badly wanted to put down roots somewhere.” “I know.” Suddenly, she sits up and takes my hand. “Your memories of Clay aren’t in that house, honey. They’re in here”—she taps my chest—“and here.” Then she taps the side of my head. “Selling the house won’t take away those memories.” “I keep telling myself it’s a bad market.” “It’s a terrible market,” she agrees. “I finally gave away Clay’s clothes and stuff a few months ago. I felt like a real bitch.” She rolls her eyes, lightening the mood a bit. “Why? Were you planning to wear them?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“C ome on, Hope. This is a great criminal case. Guy got caught selling dime bags out of an ice cream truck. How can you say no to that?” Adam called me in to help him out today, but by “help” he meant “take this crappy case someone referred to me.” I’m not falling for it. “I’m done being the pot lawyer.” He shakes his head, but the corners of his mouth twitch, so I know he’s not really mad about my refusal. “What about some estate planning stuff? I’m drowning here.” Adam isn’t begging. Not yet anyway. “I guess I wouldn’t mind giving that a try. I barely remember anything from Trusts and Estates, though.” “I know. I’ll walk you through it. Don’t worry.” “Fine.” I should have known the little bugger was up to something, because the first client he “needs help” with is Teller. Dammit. Sweet as always, Teller gives me a quick hug. “How you doin’?” “Good.” Adam saunters into the waiting room with a big, welcoming smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Whelan.” The guys shake hands, and Adam gestures to me. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have my associate, Ms. Kendall, sit in on our consultation. She’s going to be assisting with some of my estate matters.” I make an I-hope-you-choke face at Adam. Teller’s mouth lifts in a half smirk. “That’s fine. I know Ms. Kendall well.” “Oh, that’s right,” Adam says in an obnoxious, fake-surprised voice. “She represented you in a family matter. I remember now.” How unprofessional would it be if I gave Adam the finger in front of a client? The three of us take seats around the conference room table. I fight back memories of a time when Rock sat across from me at this table, and I try to focus on the problems Teller’s having with the trust his grandmother set up for Heidi. Adam is far better at time management than I am. The consultation is over in

exactly fifty-five minutes. Teller didn’t like some of what Adam explained, but I assure him it’s standard and we’ll work it out. I walk Teller out and he pauses at the door. I’m afraid to ask about anything related to Rock or the club, but I’m worried about Heidi and want to know if she’s okay. “How’s Heidi?” He grins from ear to ear. “A pain in my ass. Other than that, she’s good. I know you’re busy, but she’d really like to see you.” Busy has nothing to do with it. “I’d love to see her. Is that…? Can I…?” Crap. “Heidi can have friends outside the club, Hope. I just figured if you weren’t with Rock, you didn’t want to be bothered with her.” I kind of want to smack him. Yes, the “outside the club” part hurt, but what I’m mad about is he assumes Heidi was some sort of obligation I’m happy to be rid of now that Rock and I are… whatever we are. “Of course not. Gosh, you better not have said that to her. I don’t want her thinking that.” Teller seems surprised, and I try not to hold it against him. He’s still young. Plus, he’s a guy. He doesn’t know he’s being a nitwit. “Have her call me.” “Okay. I, uh, have to go out of town Friday. She gets out of school early, and I usually pick her up and take her to lunch…” He shrugs. “I’d love to. Fridays are good for me. Are you going to be gone long?” “Nah. I’ll be back Friday night. Quick run.” Club business. I want to ask so bad if Rock’s going. But what does it matter? None of my business. After he promises to have Heidi call, he takes off. The rumbling sound of his bike as he starts it up almost makes me cry. “You okay, counselor?” Adam asks from behind me. I count to five before turning around. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Without Hope here in the mornings, Trinity doesn’t join us for breakfast anymore, something I suspect annoys the shit out of Wrath, because he’s in a fouler mood than usual. No one knew what to say when I announced Hope and I were taking a break. Or no one dared voice an opinion on the subject. “You sure you won’t fuck this up, little man?” Wrath sneers at Teller.

“Fuck you, dick. You act like I’ve never done a drop before,” Teller snips back. Time to interrupt this nonsense. I point at both of them. “You two are givin’ me a fuckin’ headache. Stump won’t be at this drop. It’s his RC and a prospect. It’s not a lot of product. Should be quick and easy. Plain car, though. No bikes. I’m gettin’ tired of Loco knowing every fuckin’ step we take.” Teller makes a what-the-fuck face. “I know. We’re gonna stop and see Grinder, so we’re not flyin’ colors either.” “Fine. Good. See if he has an update on his transfer request.” “You want me to ride out separate, maybe lead any GSC tails in the opposite direction?” Z asks. I actually like that idea a lot. “Yeah. But not alone. Take Dex or Ravage with you.” Murphy slides his gaze to Teller, and my radar goes up. These two sneaky fucks have a way of communicating without words. “You let Bug know you can’t pick her up Friday?” Murphy asks. “Yeah, Hope’s taking her out to lunch,” Teller answers without looking at me. Wrath turns his head from the table to cough-snicker, and he’s lucky he’s still recovering from his broken leg or I’d kick him. Everyone else remains silent. Waiting for my head to explode, I guess. “How’d that come about?” I ask. “She sat in on the meeting I had with her lawyer friend about Heidi’s trust. I guess she’s doing estate planning stuff with him.” “Why? She hates that stuff.” Teller shrugs. “I dunno. Probably needs the money.” My hands are fisted so tight my knuckles ache. Wrath notices but doesn’t comment on it. “I’m sure Heidi will like that,” I say as calmly as possible. When a respectable amount of time passes and the guys go back to bullshitting, I make my exit. Of course, I can’t leave without someone tagging along to annoy the shit out of me. Today it’s Z. I push my way into the office, but he’s right behind me. “Prez, this break thing is killing you. Go fucking talk to her,” Z says, slamming his fist into my desk. “There’s nothing to say right now.” Which is a total lie. “The fuck there isn’t. Why you being so hard on her?” Am I? I’m not. I want her to get her shit sorted out. “She won’t talk to me about what’s bothering her, and we need some space.” “You’re such a dick. She probably doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. I’ve never met a woman who’s more worried about everyone else’s feelings than her own.” Hurt my feelings? I’m her fucking man. Or I was. I can take anything she wants to put on me. Z cocks his head. “You mad she’s still upset about her husband?”

“No. Fuck no. They were together a long time. She wouldn’t be the woman I love if she just fuckin’ forgot about him.” “You want her to mourn you like that,” he states. I’ve never thought about it in such blunt terms. “Probably.” He glances out the window and seems to be considering what he wants to say. “Fuck, man—that ride we went on, she practically begged me to make sure nothing happened to you. She fuckin’ loves you. Why you punishing her?” “Shut your fuckin’ mouth. You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about.” “Fine. Keep being a dick. But don’t you fuckin’ forget I lived through the shit Carla pulled. Whether you want to admit it or not, she cut you deep. Anyone who knows you knows you don’t just love Hope for her hot little ass.” “For someone who claims to know me so well, you’re dangerously close to getting your own ass kicked for speakin’ about her that way.” Z shrugs off my threat. “I saw the way you fell for her the day you fuckin’ met, Rock. We all did.” “Shut up.” “We watched you clean up your act after her husband died too.” Surprised, I stare at him. He shakes his head at me, like I’m one dumb motherfucker. “You weren’t foolin’ no one.” My fists clench and unclench as I consider how much to say. “It’s not only her husband. It’s other stuff, too. And she won’t… she wouldn’t talk to me about it. I can’t fix shit if she won’t tell me.” “Brother, it’s not on you to fix everything in the goddamn world. I know you think it is for some reason. It makes you a good president, but you gotta cut yourself a break.” He stops but keeps staring at me. Hell only knows what he’s gonna come up with next. “I know we never talked about it, but I was there in the hospital with you two. Losing a baby is rough. Especially on a girl like her. She’s already been through so much.” I can’t fucking breathe. In my life, I’ve been stabbed exactly twice. The pain in my chest right now is worse than either of those times. “That’s part of it.” I can’t talk to him about the picture I found because I don’t even know what it all means yet. Won’t know unless I talk to Hope. Fuck.

Mara’s not-so-friendly advice has been eating at me all week. It also gives me the kick in the ass I need. Every afternoon when I come home, I click on the radio and work for a couple hours, packing things up. When I want to give up and crawl under the covers, I just keep pushing. “You hated skiing. You’re never going to ski,” I grumble at myself. Into the donation pile go the skis Clay insisted we buy for a trip we took to Vermont one Christmas. I have plenty of nice memories from that trip. None of them involve the skis. Clay read spy thrillers. Stuff I can’t stand. They fill up three cardboard boxes. I sniffle a little thinking of the bookshelf in Rock’s bedroom. Mostly nonfiction history books. I push it out of my mind before I start crying. By the end of the week, I almost have everything boxed up or tagged. I’m so close I stay up way past midnight to finish. Over the radio, I catch a news report about a body found in the Hudson River. My brain catches on the phrase gang related, and I jump up, racing over to the radio to turn it up. It’s a club. Not a gang. I know Rock takes exception to people referring to the Lost Kings as a gang. But does the media care? Would anyone tell me if something happened to Rock? I’m standing there frozen with fear when another report comes on. This time I hear the story from the beginning. Hispanic male. Late twenties. Not Rock. I let out a deep breath. Convinced more than ever I need to hurry up, I finish packing and don’t get to bed until almost four in the morning. As much as I hate to admit it, I need help getting rid of everything. Goodwill says it will take two to three weeks to schedule a pickup. I can’t wait that long. Sophie is still hard to get ahold of. I could probably call her brother Ben and he’d help me out. But I know he works odd hours, so I feel weird bothering him. Lilly and I have been getting together more regularly on our own. When I explain my dilemma, she immediately offers up her brother Alex and his truck. “I’ve only met him once or twice. I can’t ask him—” “Trust me. He won’t mind. Besides, I’ll ask him. He can’t say no to his baby sister.” “Lilly—” “Stop. I’m so proud of you for finally doing this. Let me help you finish it.” Crap. I feel like such a pathetic charity case. “Thanks, Lilly. I appreciate it.” I’d forgotten how big Lilly’s brother is. Except for the more awkward-to-carry things, he waves off most of our offers to help him load in the furniture. “Everything, Hope? Are you sure?” Lilly asks. I’m a little sad to see the couch and dining table go. “Yeah. Everything with a

green tag goes. Red tags stay. I’ll put them out in the storage container when it gets here. Except the bedroom set. That stays too.” I need someplace to sleep. At least for one more night. The guilt I’d been expecting doesn’t come. What does show up is the personal storage container I ordered. As we’re finishing loading things into Alex’s truck, the company drops it off. The driver hands me the information for how to schedule the move when I’m ready. I walk around the box a few times. Whatever doesn’t fit in it doesn’t get to come into the next phase of my life. Whatever that may be.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“What do you mean? What guy?” I shout into my phone. I’m at the building site for the house I planned to share with my wife, so my mental state is already pretty much shot. This news is not what I needed. Hoot’s strained voice through the phone makes it clear how thankful he is not to be standing in front of me while giving this report. “I don’t know. Her friend with the big tits is with her too.” Fucking Lilly. What is it with her trying to set Hope up? “What are they doing?” Hoot sighs. Poor fucker’s been on Hope detail for more days than I care to count. Under threat of an ass kicking, he hasn’t mentioned it to anyone else. If he wants to drop his prospect rocker and earn his three-piece patch, he’ll keep doing what I ask without complaint. Yeah, I know I’m a dick. I’ve made my peace with it. “Dropping a bunch of shit off at Goodwill.” “What kind of stuff?” The exasperation in his voice is clear, but he still answers with respect. “I don’t know, prez. Some furniture. Boxes. I can’t get closer without them seeing me.” “That’s good. Stay on her.” I’m out of my fucking goddamn mind. The guy Z hired to help with the construction stuff that was beyond his expertise stands there staring at me, waiting for instructions. Z finally got his wish. The club bought a subcompact tractor—not just for this project; Z has lots of plans for it—and together, we did a lot of the site preparation. When we hit bedrock and needed heavier equipment, Z called in some of his contacts. “We’re ready to pour the concrete,” Jasper informs me. “It’s not too cold?” “No.” “Good. Do it.” Storming into the clubhouse office, I throw open the door so hard it bounces off the wall, startling Z. “What the fuck, man?” he grouches.

I don’t have patience for his bullshit today. “You still talk to Lilly?” “Yeah, every now and then. Why?” “Will she think it’s weird if you text her right now?” Z’s already pulling out his phone. “No. Give me a sec.” “Just ask what she’s up to.” “Yeah, okay.” The wait for a response seems to take forever. While we wait, he asks me if I’m going ahead with the construction. “Yes,” I spit out through clenched teeth. Z doesn’t say anything. For once, he keeps his smirk and opinions to himself. Of course, when his phone pings back, a look of recognition settles on Z’s face. Great, now my brother knows how fucking insane I am. “She says she’s out with her brother and Hope.” A sly grin twitches at the corner of his mouth, but he holds it back. “What’s going on?” I relax at the news that it’s Lilly’s brother. “Nothing.” “Hang on. She says they needed her brother’s truck because they’re getting rid of a bunch of Hope’s stuff.” Some fucking spark lights in my chest. What’s my girl up to?

“You’ll never believe who just texted me,” Lilly says with a giggle as she slides her phone into her pocket. “Who?” “Z.” My heart seizes. After a deep breath, I grab the next box with renewed purpose. “Oh yeah. How’s he doing?” “Okay, I guess.” She grabs another box and follows me inside the back of the Goodwill store where we drop our loads. Alex is busy carrying two of my end tables inside. I don’t even know how I’m going to repay these two for all their help. I’ve only met Alex maybe two or three times, yet he’s been so kind all day. Drove his truck down here to help me load all my crap and cart it to Goodwill. He hasn’t complained once. He’s also driving me nuts because so far, he’s refused my offer to fuel up the truck or feed him dinner. Not that I have anything left at the house to make dinner with. That thought actually makes me laugh. I’m losing my mind.

When Lilly and I have a moment alone, I tap her arm. “What can I do for your brother? I have to at least pay him for gas.” Lilly shrugs. “Alex won’t take your money.” Great. Out of nowhere, Lilly chuckles. When she pulls her phone out again, I understand why. “He must want to get lucky,” Lilly mutters. She scrolls through the message. “Z wants to know how you’re doing.” “Aw, that’s so sweet. I miss him.” I’m beside myself broken up over Rock. But beyond my broken heart, I miss Trinity and the guys. My lunch with Heidi was nice, but it also reminded me of how much I’d lost. Especially Z, who has always been sweet to me. All of them really became family. Until I screwed it all up. In hindsight, Rock only asked if we should slow things down. Take a break from planning the wedding. I’m the one who heard “break up.” I’m the one who left my ring. Left the clubhouse. It’s not like anyone in the club will still be friends with me if I’m not with Rock. After more discussion, Alex finally lets me fill his truck at the station near my house. While we’re standing outside, filling the tank, he catches my eye. “What do you say to dinner one night, Hope?” “Oh sure, you and Lilly should—” He shakes his head. “No. I mean I want to take you out to dinner.” Oh. Oh shit. “I… I… Are you…? You mean a date?” His full lips curl into a smile. “Yeah, if you need to label it. A date.” My heart pitters and my cheeks heat up. “I’m flattered. I like you a lot and appreciate all your help today. But I can’t. I’m really not ready. I just got out of a serious…” Oh my God, I can’t even finish the sentence. My eyes blink rapidly to clear the forming tears. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I’m sorry, Hope. Shit. Lilly told me.” He shakes his head. “I have the worst timing.” “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m a mess.” “I don’t know about that.” The truck has a huge gas tank. It’s taking forever to fill it, but I feel awkward walking away after rejecting him. “Do you have any place to stay?” he asks. “I have some leads.” He nods once. “That’s good. Go ahead and get in the truck. You’re starting to shiver.” After the awkward moment at the station, I’m not sure how to act around Alex. He’s a classy guy, though, and doesn’t make me feel bad about it. Of course, Lilly knows something’s up. As they’re getting ready to leave, she pulls me aside. “What’s wrong? You’ve been weird since we stopped for fuel.” Crap. I don’t know what to tell her. My lips curve into a sad smile. “Alex asked me out.”

“Oh shit. You want me to punch him?” “No! Jeez. It was really sweet. I just feel bad. He’s so nice. But—” “You’re not over Rock. I understand.” I glance down at my wringing hands. “I don’t think I’ll ever be over him, Lilly.” She gives me a wicked smile. “Can’t blame you there.” “Thanks a lot.” Her mouth turns down, but her eyes still glitter with amusement. “Sorry.” “You’re not mad at me for turning him down?” “Fuck no. He’s a big boy. He’ll live. He’s always liked you, though, so I’m not surprised.” Her shoulders pull up in a quick shrug. “Really? He barely knows me.” She tosses a pointed yet playful look my way. “You’re hot and smart, his two favorite qualities in a woman.” I snort, then full-out laugh. “I don’t know about either of those.” Lilly grins and pulls me in for a hug. “Take care of yourself. Call me if you need a place to stay. I have a guest room and wouldn’t mind the company.” “Thank you. For everything.” Walking into my house feels weird. I can’t believe how much better I feel letting go of all that stuff that had been weighing me down. Still brimming with nervous energy, I decide to load up the storage pod. The rumble of Harley pipes steals my attention as I’m carting boxes into the trailer. My heart thumps wildly at the sound. Rock. Oh my god. I look like shit. But it’s not Rock. I almost cry from disappointment. “Hi, Z—what are you doing here?” I shouldn’t be surprised. He probably hoped to catch Lilly. “Lilly left about an hour ago.” His eyebrows draw down. “I didn’t come to see Lilly.” He shocks me by enveloping me in a warm hug, then pulls away, still holding my shoulders. “How you been, girl?” “Okay. Did Rock send you?” I hate the pitiful hopeful note in my voice. Especially when Z’s gaze darts away. “No, sugar. I wanted to make sure you were doin’ okay. See if you needed anything.” I can’t swallow over the lump in my throat. “Thank you.” He lifts his chin toward the storage unit. “What’s that?” I shake my head, not quite sure how to explain. “Just getting rid of some stuff.” He nods but doesn’t press me further. I tilt my head at the house. “Do you want to come in? Want something to drink?” “Nah, I can’t stay, sweetheart. Thanks, though.” “How’s Rock?” I blurt out before I lose my nerve. He pins me with a fierce stare. “He’s a miserable prick without you.” For some reason, laughter spills out of me. “I’m sorry,” I say.

Z shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. Sometimes shit doesn’t work out.” He inclines his head as if he knows I’m on the verge of crying. “Sometimes you just need time to sort stuff out.” “Yeah.” “Everything will work out in the end.” I’m too choked up to get any words out, so I just nod even though I’m not sure if I agree with him.

Some fucker has the nerve to knock on my door a little past midnight. I came up here to get away from the party going on downstairs. I should have gone for a ride instead, because all I can see in this room is Hope. Every-fuckingwhere. Opening my door, I find Teller. For some reason, he decided to bring the party to me, in the form of two club girls who can’t be much older than eighteen. At least they better fuckin’ be eighteen. “What?” I bark at him. “I wanted to introduce you to—” Fucker doesn’t finish because I grab him by his collar and yank him closer. “Get lost,” I growl at the girls. They take off running down the hall. “Are you fuckin’ shittin’ me?” He wraps his hands around my arm, but I’m not done throttling his nosy ass yet. “You’ve been so miserable. We thought you might benefit from some company.” The “we” is not lost on me, and I’m looking forward to cracking skulls tomorrow morning. “It’s not your job to worry about who warms my bed.” Disgusted, I toss him backward. He staggers a bit before catching himself. “She’s not coming back, prez. You had to know eventually she’d get tired of this.” I never knew Teller had such a fierce death wish. This time, I wrap my hand around his throat to make sure my message sticks. “What goes on between me and my ol’ lady is not your business.” “Fuck. Fine,” he gasps out while trying to pry my hand off his neck. I let him go and he braces his hands on his knees, gasping for air. “After all the shit Hope’s done for you and Heidi, this is how you fuckin’ repay her?” Finally, he has the decency to look embarrassed. “That’s got nothin’ to do with

this.” “Like fuck it doesn’t.” He shakes his head and stands up. “By the way, why are you here in my business when you got a sister to be lookin’ after?” Teller’s mouth opens and closes before he answers. “She’s at a friend’s house tonight.” “Fine. Go before I change my mind and choke you some more.” He slinks off down the hall, and I slam my door shut. When I was younger, I would have put my fists through the wall, kicked stuff, broken everything in sight. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I’ll go down to the gym and work off some of my aggression. Tonight? Tonight, I sit down on the bed and finally pull out the note Hope tucked under my pillow the night she left. I’m sorry. I love you. Fuck. That’s my girl. Sweet, simple, direct, and to the point. Z’s right. I have been an asshole. I need to figure out how to fix this, and soon. I can’t sleep for shit and finally give up trying around four thirty. All my degenerate brothers should be asleep. Downstairs is a fucking mess. Not my problem. Flipping on the lights in the gym, I decide to start with some cardio before hitting the weights. Maybe twenty minutes into my workout, Trinity’s door across the hall opens and she wanders in. “Morning, prez.” “Hey.” She seems uncertain, and it dawns on me she’s probably used to having the gym to herself this early in the morning. “Am I in your way?” Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. After a bit, she hops on the treadmill next to me. “You always up this early?” “Yup,” she answers. She’s quiet for a while after that. “I miss having Hope here,” she says after I get off the elliptical. Fuck. “I know.” “You guys are good for each other.” Are we? She’s good for me. She’s what I need. I’m not so sure it works the other way around. “You and Wrath getting along?” I’m such a dick for going there. Trin’s not mad, though. She grins at me. “Good deflecting, prez.” “I’m headin’ upstairs. You gonna join us for breakfast today?” “No. I have some stuff I need to take care of.”

Shaking my head, I wave at her and head back upstairs. Teller is absent at breakfast. Lucky for him. My hands still itch to wrap around his throat. Murphy’s also conveniently missing. No surprise there. Pointing my fork at Z and Wrath, I fix both of them with a glare. “Were you two in on Teller’s plan last night?” Wrath snorts and Z shakes his head. “Please. We’re more subtle than those two asshats,” Wrath answers with a smirk that I want to plant my fist in. “I don’t think you’d know subtle if it kicked you in your thick head.” “Look who’s talkin’ about havin’ a thick head,” Z mouths off. “You have some more fuckin’ advice for me, brother?” I spread my arms wide. “I’m all fuckin’ ears. You’re such a relationship expert. Lay it on me.” His mouth twists and his eyes narrow. Z is pretty mellow most of the time. But he’s one of the most lethal motherfuckers I know. It takes a lot to piss him off. I seem to be working him to the brink. “Yeah, I got advice for you,” he snaps. “Good. I’m dying to hear it. Let me warn you—get it all out of your system now. We’re running an MC here, not some fucking circle-jerk relationship counseling service.” Wrath snorts. Turning my head, I pin him with a stare. “You got something you need to get off your chest too?” “Yeah, here’s some advice. You’re being an asshole. Maybe Cinderella’s better off without you after all.” “Fuck you. We’ll work our shit out when we’re good and ready.” Wrath turns to Z. “Tell him.” Z gives Wrath a weary look. “Thanks, fucker.” “Spill it,” I spit at Z. He shrugs. “I wouldn’t keep waiting for whatever the fuck you’re waiting for. Girl like her ain’t gonna stay single long.” “What the fuck?” I swear if he gives me another smirky shrug, I’m gonna kick his ass. “She ain’t. You know it, and I know it. No disrespect to her, but she’s not the kind of woman who does well without a man. Hell, Lilly’s brother already tried to push up on her.” “What the fuck you talkin’ about?” “Yesterday, when he helped her move all her shit, guess he asked her out. But Hope said no because she ain’t over you.” Thank fuck. My heart’s in my stomach, thinking about Hope with someone else. “Why are you waiting until now to tell me?” He holds up his hands in surrender. “I just found out myself.” Wrath jumps in, surprised, I think, to find himself giving a fuck about any of this. “It’s true. He got a text from Lilly a little while ago.” “Motherfuckin—”

Z interrupts the rant I’m about to go on. “As far as he knew, she’s single. Beautiful woman. Ain’t got no ring. No patch. Had to call another man with a truck to come help her out… Any dude’s gonna see her as fair game. He won’t be the last.” Z knows every one of my buttons to push. Every. Single. One.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“It’s a great starting price, Ms. Kendall. I’m sure you’ll have a number of offers right away.” I honestly don’t care. “Do what you have to.” Sheila pauses and gives all the empty space a sour look. “I wish you’d left furniture in the bedrooms.” I shrug because I don’t care about that either. Let her work to earn her five percent commission. “Sorry, it couldn’t be helped.” She sighs and slips her notes into her handbag. “Leo should have the sign in the ground in a few minutes. I’ll put a lockbox on the door if that’s okay? I’ll call you before showing it to anyone, though.” “That’s not necessary.” One way or another, I won’t be spending another night in this house. After the realtor leaves, I wander outside. There’s a white pickup truck full of lumber and signs at the end of my driveway. My “For Sale” sign looks pretty damn good right in the middle of the grass that borders the quiet, dead-end street. The truck does a lazy circle in the cul-de-sac and leaves. After watching it disappear down the street, I pull out my cell phone. Blood thunders through my ears, drowning out the sounds in my quiet neighborhood. My stomach twists, but before I can chicken out, I send Rock a text. I need to speak with you I don’t know what the hell I’ll do if he doesn’t answer. Thankfully, I don’t have to figure it out, because my phone vibrates almost immediately. Where are you? My house. Give me 20. Air rushes out of my lungs as relief washes through me. He’s coming. I can do this. I need to do it now. Before someone else tells him. It’s another beautiful spring day. Warmer than yesterday, but not too warm. With the unpredictable weather we get in upstate New York, it could be like this until mid-June or it could be ninety degrees next week. So I sit down in the grass

beside the for sale sign and soak up the pretty day while I wait. I’m not waiting long until I hear the rumble of his bike. The sound sends a thrill through me. He’s here.

Hope’s ring burns a fucking hole in my pocket the entire way to her house. I can’t describe the relief that went through me seeing her name pop up on my phone. The text she sent is so perfectly Hope. I’m a little ashamed she reached out to me first when I know damn well how hard that is for her. There’s not a thing in this world that could have stopped me from going to her. I don’t know what she wants to talk about. It doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving without her on the back of my bike. At least I know that much. As always, her narrow road is quiet. I’m reminded of before we were together. All the times I drove by her house, dying to catch a glimpse of her. Then I finally had her, but I let her go. Pushed her away instead of helping her. I’m lucky she wants to talk to me. As I approach, I catch her sitting in the grass next to a big white for sale sign. My heart speeds up at the sight. Of her. Of the sign. What I pray like fuck she’s brought me here to tell me. Her head tips up, her lips curving into the sweetest smile. I’ve missed that smile. At the curb, I shut down the bike and take a moment to fill my lungs with air. Hope unfolds herself from the ground. “Hi,” she says softly. I’m fighting every urge inside me to wrap her in my arms and kiss the everloving fuck out of her. I lift my chin at the sign. “What’s this?” Her hands flutter nervously in front of her. “I wanted you to… I wanted to tell you… for you to see. I put it up for sale today.” My heart constricts and I swallow hard. “You didn’t have to do that.” “Yes. I did.” Her head drops and she stares at the grass for a few seconds before finally looking up and meeting my eyes. “Will you come inside?” It takes a minute to loosen my tongue. “Yeah. Sure, doll.” Her eyes widen in shock, but she nods, turns, and walks up the driveway. I catch up to her easily. Our arms brush, but her hands are stuffed in her pockets, so I do the same. With measured calm, I take in the storage container next to her garage. This could be something else. She might tell me she’s decided to move to the other side of the country. I wouldn’t put an impulsive move like that past my girl. And then what the fuck would I do?

Follow her wherever the fuck she goes and drag her back home with me. She holds the door open for me to follow her inside. As usual, Hope’s a contradiction of shy and sexy. So sweet I want to lick her all over. So sexy I want to take her to the floor and fuck the hell out of her. Without words, she walks me to her bedroom. I stop dead when we cross the threshold. It’s bare. Empty. Everything gone. I don’t know what to think, so I blurt out the first thing that pops in my thick skull. “Your whole bedroom set didn’t fit in that little box outside?” I ask, jerking my thumb in the direction of her driveway. “No. I sold it. To a nice young married couple. They came and got it this morning.” “Oh,” I say lamely. “What are you going to do?” Instead of answering, she walks over and opens her closet door. No more explosion of clothes inside. It’s as empty as the rest of the room. Except for two big blue suitcases she rolls out. My heart skips. I can’t fit those on the back of my bike. “Well, I was hoping I could come home with you.” “No. You can’t.” She reels back as if I slapped her, and I rush to correct myself. “I mean, Bricks and Winter moved into my house. I’m up at the clubhouse full time now.” Shiny tears threaten to fall, her cheeks reddening. “Oh. Sure. Okay. I, uh… My plan B was a hotel. It’s—” My girl’s so nervous. Even all teary-eyed, she’s beautiful, and I want to stop time just to take her in, but I can’t stand another second of her hurting. Pulling her into my arms and running my hands over her back, I kiss the top of her head. “Baby doll, it’s okay. Of course you’re coming home with me. Did you honestly think I was leaving here without you?” She pulls away and stares up at me, tears rolling down her cheeks. I swipe them away with my thumbs. “Please don’t cry. Everything’s going to be okay.”

I can’t stop the tears. I hate that I’ve hurt him. “Rock. I’m so sorry. I don’t ever want you to think you don’t come first for me. You do.” “Baby, you’ve never made me feel that way.” I grasp his hand, kissing his scarred knuckles. “I love you. So much. More than anything. Please tell me you know that.” He hugs me tight against him, and I soak up all the comforting warmth his body offers. “I know you do. I’m not stupid. I know it hasn’t been that long.”

It surprises me that the first thing he mentions is Clay. “It’s been more than two years.” “Doll, you spent most of your adult life with him. Two years is nothin’.” Have I ever known a more understanding and forgiving person? No, and I don’t know what I did to deserve him. He needs to hear the full truth from me. I owe him that. “It’s not just Clay. It’s losing the baby. Not sure if I can give you any—” “Hope. You have to talk to me. You can’t keep shit like that from me.” “You have so much on your shoulders already. I’m so afraid if I distract you with my silly stuff or add to your stress—” “Stop. I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. You can—about anything. You had a life before me. I know that. Your loyalty, your devotion, it’s why I fell in love with you in the first place. All those prior experiences made you who you are.” He hesitates and runs his hand through his hair. “I think I’ve got my own fucking guilt, doll. I used to wish so fucking bad you could be mine. Knowing if he was still alive, I’d never have you, I feel like—” I cry even harder at that. “I don’t even know if that’s true anymore.” Rock freezes and pins me with a shocked stare. “What?” One of the painful things I’d been hiding comes out of me in a rush. “I don’t. I love you so much. I know I told you Clay and I had a good marriage, and we did. But it wasn’t anything near what you and I have.” I can’t believe I said that out loud. I have to finish, though. “Once that thought formed, I couldn’t shake it. I started having these dreams where Clay and I divorced so I could be with you, and he was happy with someone else too. And then I’d wake up with such crushing guilt.” “Baby, why didn’t you tell me—” “Then that scene with Lynn made me feel so much worse… about everything.” “I could kill that fucking bitch,” he growls. “Not if I get to her first.” Laughter rumbles out of him and he shakes his head. “You are my little spitfire. Still proud of you for slapping her.” Nervous laughter bubbles out of me. Especially the way he’s staring down at me with a more serious expression settling over his features. “I want you to talk to me about whatever is on your mind. It’s okay to tell me about your first wedding. You won’t hurt my feelings.” My breath catches when I remember my wedding album that I left up at the clubhouse. Did he look at it? Did he see? Rock must sense my mind wandered, because he squeezes me a little harder. “Don’t think you have to hide those stories from me. I’m sorry if I tried to push you into marriage too fast.” He stops and runs a hand over my cheek. “You took my patch, which was so important to me, Baby Doll. I didn’t need to be greedy. I know you’re mine no matter what. As long as I have you, the rest doesn’t matter.” “You have me. I don’t know why you want me, but you have me.” He shoves his hand in his pocket, uncurling his fingers. “Good, then put this

back on.” My engagement ring rests in his palm, and my face breaks into a grin. “You want me to have it back?” “Of course. We don’t have to get married now. Or next week. Next month. Whenever you’re ready.” I hold out my hand, and he slides it back on my finger. “I’m getting there.” “I know you are.” We’re silent for a moment while I stand there and absorb the feeling of belonging again. Rock’s leather and woods scent comforts my racing heart. After a bit, I step back and make a show out of patting down his leather cut, searching his many pockets. His forehead crinkles. “What are you doing?” “You brought my ring. Where’s my patch? I want that back too.” His shoulders shake with laughter. “It’s waitin’ for you.”

I can’t process all the things Hope just admitted to me, so I focus on the things I can deal with. Getting her ring on her finger. Getting her on the back of my bike. Bringing her home. It wasn’t anything near what you and I have. Here I’m always worried I’m not good enough for her. That she deserves some nice citizen husband. And then she goes and admits that. Holy fuck. Because there are so many things I can’t give her, I try damn hard to give her everything else in my power. Every fight we’ve had, every frustrating moment, has been worth it to hear those words.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Rock ends up calling one of the prospects to bring the van down and collect the few things I want to take up to the clubhouse. “Leave it unlocked. You can trust them.” “Of course I trust them.” A warm smile turns up his lips and he curls his hand around the back of my neck, pulling me in for a deep kiss. He pulls away slowly and taps his bike. “Get on, baby.” He doesn’t have to ask twice. I hop on the back and wrap my arms around him, squeezing him tight with my legs as the bike roars to life. At the stop sign, he reaches back and pats my knee. Gentle reassurance that I’m still there. I hug him tighter and we take off. I’m surprised by the hugs I get from everyone when we walk in the clubhouse together. “First lady!” Murphy shouts as he runs over and picks me up. “You’re back,” he says, setting me down. “I am.” “For good,” Rock clarifies from behind me. “For good,” I agree. Wrath drops a kiss on the top of my head. “Missed you, sugar.” He seems so sincere. I run my gaze over him and gasp. “Your cast is finally off!” “Yup.” I give him a hug, which after a second of hesitation, he returns. Teller pipes up. “Glad to see you, Hope. Prez has been miserable without you.” “Fuck off,” Rock growls. “Hey, sweetheart,” Z calls as he steps out of the office. I get a quick hug from him too. “Told you everything would work out,” he whispers in my ear. “Glad you’re back.” He winks at me as he pulls away. “Me too.” “Where’s Trinity?” I ask. “She ran out for some supplies. She was hoping she’d be back before you got here,” Wrath answers.

I quirk an eyebrow at Rock. “I wasn’t fucking around. You were coming back with me one way or another.” “I guess so.” He leans down and whispers in my ear, “I mean everything I say to you.” A shiver works through me. “For fuck’s sake, take her upstairs already. We don’t need to see this,” Z groans. Wrath flashes a dirty grin at me. “Prospects should be back with her stuff soon. Tell them to leave it outside our door.” Wrath’s eyebrows shoot up, but he nods. “Got it.” I can’t believe how happy I am to see everyone. “Thanks, guys.” Rock sweeps me into his arms and takes me upstairs. My throat closes when I see my things where I left them. “I figured you’d have my stuff packed in boxes down in the basement or something,” I say in a hoarse voice. “Fuck no, baby. I knew we’d work through it eventually.” “But what if I’d fallen into another eight-month depression or something? I missed you so much it physically hurt.” He sets me down and cups my face with his hands. “I wouldn’t have let that happen.” “You had eyes on me?” “Here and there.” Awareness flares in my love-soaked brain. “You had Z text Lilly when we were at Goodwill, didn’t you?” One corner of his mouth lifts in a sly smirk. “Maybe. Can’t say I was happy you needed another man to help you do something I should’ve been doing for you.” “You mean Alex? He’s a nice guy. And it’s okay. I think I needed to do that without you. Having you help me get rid of our things… of Clay’s things, would have felt weird.” “Fair enough. He didn’t have to ask you out, though.” It’s not fair, but the peeved look on his face sends me into a fit of giggles. “You heard about that too, huh? God, Lilly has a big mouth.” Rock’s grumble sends heat streaking through my belly. “You know I turned him down, right?” “I heard,” he says, a little less cocky. “Why?” I can’t stop fiddling with my hands and I can’t meet his eyes. “You know why.” “I need to hear you say it.” His low, gravelly voice flows through me like water. “Because I love you and there’s no one else for me.”

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing Hope say she loves me. Still, there’re things we need to talk about. I’m not sure how to bring up the one topic that’s been eating away at me most. But all of a sudden, I don’t have to. Hope’s gasp lifts me out of my thoughts. She’s standing by her lounge chair, staring down at the wedding album I left sitting there. The sonogram picture is tucked inside but still poking out enough to be obvious. Now she knows I know. Her eyes skip to me and she shakes her head. “Rock?” Closing the distance between us, I take her hands in mine and pull her down on the chair. She picks up the album and sets it in her lap. “You left it here, doll. I—” “No, it’s okay.” Her hand runs back and forth over the cover, but she doesn’t open it. Her teeth sink into her lower lip. Finally, her fingers pluck out the little black-and-white picture. She stares at it for a while before opening her mouth. “You saw this?” “Yes.” She taps the album. “You looked through this?” I’m not sure where she’s going with her questions, but I plan to be one hundred percent honest. “Yes. You were a beautiful bride.” Her face hardens into an expression I’ve never seen on Hope before. My girl is always so soft and sweet, but now… she’s downright tormented. “I was miserable.” Holy. Fuck. The shock must be written all over my face. “Not about Clay.” She taps the album. “We weren’t ready to get married. I’d just finished law school. I wasn’t sure if I’d passed the bar yet—there’s a few months between when you take the exam and—well, it’s not important. I couldn’t find a job. If you don’t have something lined up after graduation, it’s pretty much impossible to find a job until after you get admitted.” She’s babbling, stalling probably, but I’ve got enough patience to wait and let her get it all out. I’ll wait forever for this woman. “Clay was waiting to sit for his licensing exams. He had a job but wasn’t making a lot of money yet. We lived in this shitty one-bedroom apartment over in Ironworks. Anyway. I was on the pill, and even though I know I can be flighty, I

never missed it.” She looks me in the eye. Obviously, someone challenged her on this at some point. “Okay.” “There was a problem. My doctor switched me, and the new one made me so sick. I was either bleeding, cramping, or throwing up for like a month until they switched me to something else. Then I had this nasty kidney infection. Everyone knows if you’re on antibiotics, you have to use a backup. It’s like Being a Woman 101 or something. Crap, I think the pharmacist reminded me.” She shakes her head. “I forgot. I started getting sick again, but I thought it was from the new prescription. Turned out I was pregnant.” She stops, and I wrap my arm around her waist, hugging her tight. “It’s okay, doll. I’m right here.” She sniffles a little and I get up to bring her a box of tissues. “I told you how useless my mother was after my dad died?” “Yeah, I remember.” “Well, around my third year of law school is when she got remarried. All of a sudden, she wanted to play mom again. So I humored her. Clay encouraged me to try and fix our relationship. He grew up in foster care and kept reminding me I was lucky to have a mother. I felt guilty and I tried, even though I knew it was a mistake.” I have a hard time swallowing because I almost feel like I did something similar to her. “So besides Clay, my mother was the first person I told. I was twenty-fuckingfive years old. Not exactly the end of the world for me to be pregnant, other than the fact that Clay and I had no idea how we were going to afford a kid. I thought she’d be happy.” “She wasn’t?” “No. She went berserk. Everything has always been about her, and this was no different. She was ‘too young’ to be a grandmother. She was so embarrassed to have such a ‘slut’ for a daughter. Mind you, Clay and I had been together for more than five years by this point. But she acted like I needed to have a fucking paternity test to know who the father was.” Seeing Hope so angry pisses me off. It’s unnatural on her. “She insisted I have an abortion. She wouldn’t let it drop.” Christ, I don’t even know what to say to that. “What did Clay say about it?” Hope looks at me like I’m nuts. “I never told him that. He would have lost his shit. As freaked out as we were about the financial aspect of it, we were excited about the baby. He was thrilled to have a family of his own. “When my mother finally understood I was keeping the baby, she insisted we had to get married right away. She went behind my back and got Clay on board with her plan. He thought it would be a good mother-daughter thing to bond over wedding stuff. I knew we were eventually going to get married, so I had no good reason to say no or back out of it without hurting his feelings.” She stops and takes a deep breath.

“But it couldn’t just be a quickie courthouse ceremony. Oh no. She drove me nuts.” She slaps her hand on the photo album, then flips it open to the first page. “I can’t look at any of these pictures without remembering how unhappy I was that day.” Jesus Christ. “I’m so sorry.” “I was so stressed out. So sick all day. I kept throwing up. My mother had me so ashamed. I didn’t tell anyone else I was pregnant. Clay must have told his sister at some point. I don’t know. But Sophie, Mara, Lilly—I never told them.” “Baby, you had nothing to be ashamed of.” “I know. I knew it then too, but I couldn’t help it. Mara was going through her own stuff with her ex. They were close to getting a divorce. So I felt really bad about all the wedding stuff I threw at her all of a sudden. I’m sure one of them suspected, since I had to run in the bathroom to puke every five minutes.” Goddamn, Z had her pegged. This story makes it clear just how much she worries about everyone else’s feelings but her own. As her man, I need to do a better job protecting her. “What happened after the wedding?” Her mouth turns up and her eyes go distant. “We scraped together some money and went to Montreal for four days. It was actually a really nice honeymoon.” The smile fades to something I can only describe as anguish. “I lost the baby two days after we got back.” Motherfuck. I can’t stand hearing all the bad shit my girl’s been through. Never said a word to me, either. I feel so fucking useless, like I should have done something for her even though I didn’t even know her at the time. I can’t help but notice how she hid important shit from Clay too. Maybe if she’d shared this with him, he might have stood up to Hope’s mother. Saved my girl from so much misery. I need Hope to understand there won’t be any more secrets between us. She’s quiet for a while but keeps staring at the sonogram picture. “My mother didn’t come to the hospital that time either. All she said was it was a shame she wasted so much money on the wedding when it turned out not to be necessary after all.” I’ve never hurt a woman in my life, but Hope’s mother? I want to hunt this bitch down and kill her. “I cut ties with her after that. Told Clay it wasn’t going to work, without giving him too many awful details. We spoke on the phone here and there, she came to Clay’s funeral, but other than that, I kept away from her.” “Until I made you call her?” She looks up at me finally, a sad smile stretched across her face. Her hand reaches up and rubs my cheek. “You didn’t know.” Everything falls into place in that moment. Her running away when she can’t cope. Her lack of confidence. How hard it is for her to open up and trust. She’s basically been rejected by her own mother her whole life. “I wish you had told me.”

She shrugs. “I’m not good at sharing my feelings, Rock. It’s really hard for me to let people in. You’re the first person to ever know so much of me. You’re unstoppable.” I’m probably a complete asshole, but I really like the way she says that. “You still should have told me. No more, Hope. If something bothers you—no matter how small you think it is—I want to hear about it. There won’t be secrets between us.” “It was so far in the past. Female trouble. No man wants to hear about—” I cut that shit off quick. “I’m your man. I want to know anything and everything about you.” Her lips quirk into a brief smile. “When we met, I told you how much you freaked me out. Even then, I felt like you knew too much about me. I made such a big deal out of how I had a good marriage and would never cheat on my husband. I didn’t want you to think we had some shotgun wedding… I don’t know.” “Honey, I never would have thought that about you. I just wish you had told me so I hadn’t pushed you into calling that bitch.” “It was too painful. I’d get sick every time I remembered that whole time period. I was so mad at myself for not standing up to her sooner. I thought I’d dealt with it and put it behind me.” Her bright-green eyes, shiny with unshed tears, meet mine. “Then losing our baby the way I did? Rock, something must be really wrong with me. I feel so defective.” “Hope, you’re the closest to perfection I’ve ever known. You heard the doctor. We can try when you’re ready. They’ll watch you like a hawk.” She shifts closer to me so our thighs are touching, and I wrap my arm around her. “I just know you’d be such a good father,” she murmurs. “And I want to be able to give you that.” My chest tightens with the feeling that I’m meant to take care of this wonderfully strong yet fragile woman. Beyond that, I admire her. Even though she’s had so many awful things happen in her life, it hasn’t turned her into a bitter person. She’s one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. “We’ll figure it out together. I promise.” She pulls away. “Thank you for always being so patient and understanding with me.” The sweet, earnest way she expresses herself twists me. Cupping her chin, I stare into her green eyes and explain how things will be from now on. “Love you. And I do understand, but no more running away when you’re overwhelmed. No more pushing each other away. This is it. I need you—all of you—and you’re going to give yourself to me completely.” Tears tumble down her cheeks, but I keep going. “We have no choice but to take what life throws at us. Good and bad. You’ve had so much bad, Baby Doll. More than your share. But what we have is good, and I’ll do whatever it takes to give you the best for as long as I’m alive.” “I need you too.”

I’m so happy to hear her admit it. “We need each other,” I clarify because it’s the absolute truth. “Every part of me is yours, Hope. There isn’t another person in this world who owns me the way you do.” Her arms band around my middle so tight she knocks me into the arm of the chair, but I hold on to her just as hard. I’m never letting her go again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Hope’s emotionally drained after our talk, so I tuck her in early. Having her back in my bed, in my arms… I can’t ever take this for granted again. With my girl right where she belongs, I sleep like the dead. Before the sunlight even curls around the curtains, I’m awakened by Hope pressing her ass into my dick. Beside me, she stretches, and my sleepy arms wrap around her, my hand immediately groping and fondling. My face nuzzles into her hair until I find her neck. “Do that again, Baby Doll.” She mumbles out a sleepy question, so I brush my thumb over her nipples, teasing her awake. She stretches hard, her body shuddering, her ass pressing into me again. “Morning,” I whisper against her ear. Her hand reaches back, pats my head, and she makes another contented sound. I should let her sleep. But it’s been way too fucking long. My hands work their way to her sleep pants and tug them down her legs. Above me, she lets out a soft giggle, letting me know she’s been awake and messing with me. That’s okay. I can be sneaky too. Not done teasing me, she rolls over on her stomach and lets out a few fake snores. Reaching over to my nightstand, I quietly grab a condom and roll it on. My hands rub and stroke up the backs of her legs to her ass. I place kisses along her spine, brush her hair aside, and continue kissing along her shoulder. “Good morning, my beautiful girl.” She sleep mumbles something that sounds like, “Morning.” “Baby doll, you can keep pretending you’re asleep, but I need to be inside you.” Playful, sleepy Hope vanishes. Eager-for-my-cock Hope arches her back, lifting her ass to me. The curves of her hips fit my palms nicely as I pull her up and back. “That’s my girl. I’ll go as slow as I can, but I’ve been waiting way too long. Just the sight of your sexy ass in the air has me ready to explode.” “Mmm,” she answers. Slowly, I work my cock inside her and have to pause—feels so fucking good to be home again. She whimpers and wriggles to get me moving. Over and over I slide in and out, setting a relentless pace.

Her hands curl into the sheets, the sight driving me into her hard and fast. But she keeps up, thrusting back against me just as hard. Sitting back on my heels, I pull her into my lap. “Work me, Baby Doll.” This way, I can hold her. Run my hands over every inch of her and enjoy her gliding up and down my cock. She loops her arms back around my neck and turns her head. Leaning in, I take her lips in a long, lingering kiss. With my hands gripping her hips, I lift her off me. She stretches out. Spreading her legs, she curls her finger at me in a “come here” gesture. “I’m right here,” I rasp as I fall down over her and slide back into her tight heat. Her hands glide up and down my arms, over my shoulders, into my hair. “You should wake me up like this every day,” she whispers. “You started it, pressing your hot little ass into my dick.” An indignant expression crosses her face. “I did not.” My hands roam over every inch of her. My mouth finds one nipple, sucking it in, flicking my tongue over the hard peak. Her breathy cries only ramp me up more. My nose follows the curve of her neck, nipping and licking. She squirms, and that’s my cue to speed up. Leaning back, I hook my arms under her knees, dropping her legs over my shoulders, pounding in and out of her until she screams. “Take it, baby.” She takes everything, crying out as she comes apart underneath me. Shortly after, I follow and collapse on top of her. “You’re so fucking perfect, Baby Doll.” “You’re pretty fucking fantastic yourself, stud.” Shaking with laughter, I roll over and get rid of the condom. I give her a quick slap on her ass and she yelps. “Come here, sass-mouth.” She rolls over and lays her head on my chest. Her fingers trail the outline of my tattoos, down to the anchor on my hip. We lie there in silence, running our hands over each other. At some point, she falls asleep, and I enjoy the feeling of having her back in my arms.

After my morning wakeup call, it’s hard to get out of bed. Even harder when Rock wraps himself around me for round two. When we finally pull ourselves out of bed and downstairs for breakfast, I’m starving. “Gotta feed my girl. Need to keep your energy up,” Rock teases me with a smug grin. “I think I kept up just fine.”

He plants a kiss on my mouth. “Yeah, you did.” We’re not the only ones getting a late start this morning. Trinity, Wrath, and Murphy are sitting around one of the tables in an awkward sort of silence. Wrath jerks his chin at us when we come in, and Trinity turns, smiling broadly. Z joins us as we’re finishing breakfast. “Mornin’,” he calls out as he walks past us into the kitchen. I lift an eyebrow at Trinity, and she shrugs. The guys are busy discussing business in a cryptic sort of way, as if Trinity and I care enough to pay attention. Z returns with a plate and joins their conversation. “So don’t get mad, but are you going to set a date now?” Trinity asks. Well, that’s a conversation stopper. Rock squeezes my hand. Wrath shoots Trinity a dirty look. I glance at Rock. “Fall?” “Sounds good,” Rock agrees. Trinity claps her hands together. “Ooo! That will be perfect. It’s so pretty up here, and the weather will still be nice so you won’t freeze your ass off.” Trinity’s off in wedding-planning mode. This time, I feel really good about it. Actually, I can’t wait. Trinity taps my arm. “I know I’m not a professional, but I’ve been practicing. Can I make the cake?” “Please say no, Hope. We’re all gonna get fat with her making us taste-test everything,” Z grumbles. Murphy laughs and slaps his hand over his stomach. “Speak for yourself, old man. My metabolism’s still in high throttle.” Wrath snorts. Ignoring the guys, I grin at Trinity. “Of course you can. I trust you.” “Awesome. Now what about the engagement party?” My cheeks heat up. The party should be in a few weeks. If I hadn’t screwed everything up. Everyone at the table must know— “I never canceled anything, Hope,” Trinity says soft enough that only I can hear her. “What?” “I had faith you two would work it out. I think we just need to change the location. We can do it here or at Rock’s house.” “Trinity—I don’t know what to say.” Tears prick behind my eyes, and I take a deep breath so I won’t make a fool of myself in front of everyone. “You’re going to need four-wheel drive in the winter up here, babe,” Rock informs me, probably to stop me from getting all weepy on Trinity. He points at Murphy. “He’ll help you figure it out.” Next to me, Trinity bumps me with her elbow. “What do you like, Hope?” Murphy asks. Confused to find myself in the middle of this conversation, I mumble out, “Wait,

what?” “You remember how bad it gets in the winter. Your little sedan is never going to make it up the mountain and definitely not up our driveway,” Murphy explains. “You want a Jeep like Trin’s?” he asks with a nod at her. I turn to Rock, hoping he’ll explain. “Uh?” He jabs a finger toward Murphy. “Road captain. Vehicles are his job. But if you’d rather have me go with you, we can do that,” he says, squeezing my hand under the table. “Rock just terrorizes the salesmen, Hope. He’s got no finesse. You’re better off with me,” Murphy jokes. Rock shrugs. “Don’t have time for bullshit.” “You don’t seem like a truck kinda girl,” Murphy persists. Shaking myself into this bizarre conversation, I answer, “Winter is way off. Why are we talking about this now?” Rock just shakes his head. Murphy shrugs. “Don’t want to put it off to the last minute.” I huff out an irritated breath. “Okay, I don’t really care. Something that gets me from point A to B, has a decent radio, and is good on fuel, because I’m terrible about remembering to fill up my tank.” Rock waves his hand in the air. “Prospects will take care of that.” “There’s always enough vehicles around, Hope, if you need to borrow one,” Wrath adds. Huh. My mouth pulls into a cheeky grin. “Good to know. I wouldn’t mind borrowing your bike.” His surprise is impossible to conceal, but then his eyebrows lower and his mouth curves into a smirk. “You’re right. She does have a good sense of humor,” he says to Rock. When everyone stops chuckling at the idea of me taking Wrath’s motorcycle for a joyride, Rock lifts his chin at Murphy. “Whatever she wants. Just let me know, and I’ll move it from my account.” “Yup.” My hand settles on Rock’s arm to get his attention. “Wait. I can buy my own car.” Everyone at the table falls silent. Rock’s lips twitch. “Babe, you wouldn’t need it if you weren’t moving up here. I’ll take care of it,” he answers slowly. Trinity leans over and mock whispers in my ear, “It will be easier if you just say yes, Rock.” Wrath snorts with laughter. I turn and glare at Rock. “Yes, Rock,” I mimic. “Good girl,” he says with a smirk. I kinda want to kick his ass. But it’s also kind of sweet—in a bossy, overbearing, caveman sort of way. Murphy’s jazzed about going shopping for a new vehicle. He’s obviously well

suited to his job. “What do you think? SUV? Minivan?” “Gosh no.” I gasp, which gets a laugh out of everyone. I think about it a little more. “Just nothing too big. I still need to parallel park downtown.” He nods. “Normally, I prefer American made, but I’m thinking one of those little Subaru wagons would be perfect for you. All-wheel drive. We’ll put some studded snow tires on in the winter, and you’ll rip through anything.” Rock rubs his hand over my back and leans over to whisper in my ear, “You won’t be leaving the bedroom much next winter. I’m looking forward to being snowed in with my wife—a lot.” I shiver from the raw desire in his voice. I can’t wait to be Rock’s wife. Blushing, I glance down at the table. The guys chuckle at my unease. Eventually, they turn their attention to other topics, and I sit back and enjoy the feeling of being home.

“I noticed you steered the conversation away from the engagement party this morning,” Hope says as I take her hand and lead her outside. Stopping, I turn and grab her other hand. Our eyes meet, and her mouth turns up. Her pretty green eyes blink up at me, and I swear I could stare into them forever. “I didn’t want you to get overwhelmed,” I explain. “Besides, we really do need to get you a better car for winter.” She rolls her eyes, then tugs on my hands. I take the hint and lean down. She touches her forehead to mine. “I’m not overwhelmed. I’m actually really excited.” Her mouth curves into a dreamy smile. “I can’t wait for you to be my husband.” There are no words to describe the pleasure I feel from hearing her say that. I press a kiss to her forehead and tilt my head toward the woods. “Let’s go for a walk.” She’s quiet as we hike. Every time I turn my head to check on her, she’s watching her feet. “You okay?” “Yeah,” she answers a little breathlessly. When we reach our destination, I squeeze her hand, and she looks up. “Rock, you kept building the house?” She gasps in her beautiful, awed way. Circling behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her tight. “Our house. Of course I did. I told you—one way or another, you were always mine. Will always be mine,” I add to make sure there are no misunderstandings. “Thank you. I can’t believe how much work you’ve gotten done.”

It’s true. A lot of trees have been cleared out from the spot. Foundation and walls have been poured. We’re essentially looking at our basement. Curling myself around her, I lean my chin on her shoulder and point. “That’s where I’m going to set up our sex room.” Hope gasps and struggles to turn around. “What?” I can’t keep the corners of my mouth down. The expression on her face— outrage and arousal—is both funny and sexy. “Yeah, you told me about your friend’s dungeon room. Loved the idea.” Her jaw drops. Christ, this is fun. “Not the entire basement.” I wave my hand at the foundation. “Only half of it.” While I am enjoying messing with Hope, I’m also dead serious, and I think she knows it. After teasing her until she’s giggling uncontrollably, she hiccups and can’t stop. Holding in my laughter is impossible. “I’m sorry, Baby Doll.” “Jerk-hic-why-hic—” She sucks in a deep breath and holds it until they go away. “Better?” She nods. “Rock? I’m sorry.” All the joking has gone right out of her. “‘Bout what?” “Leaving the way I did. You said slow things down, and all I heard was rejection. And I’m sorry.” Aw, fuck. I pull her close and wrap her in my arms. “My fault, baby. I knew better than to push you like that.” “I’m glad you gave me some space to sort through things, but it scared me too.” “I just wanted you to figure it out without me complicating things for you. Together or not, you were always mine.” “That’s true,” she whispers. I point in the direction of the clubhouse. “You don’t know how much shit they gave me.” She tips up her head and laughs. “Even Wrath?” “Hell yes. Z nagged me every fuckin’ day. Teller tried to be helpful by bringing girls up to our room.” Her hands push me back. “That little fucker!” she shrieks. “I’m so gonna kick his ass.” The outrage on her face is funny as fuck. Before she storms back to the clubhouse and attempts to carry out her threat, I yank her to me. “Don’t worry. I gave him a solid choking.” “Good.” The fact that she doesn’t scold me for hurting Teller reveals how pissed she is. “Mmm… so bloodthirsty, Baby Doll.” “When it comes to my man, damn right,” she grumbles, wrapping her arms around my middle and burying her face against my chest. We stand like that for a few minutes. She never questions whether I took Teller

up on his offer. An almost feathery touch lifts the back of my T-shirt, and Hope’s fingers stroke over my back. My cock twitches, and I squeeze her a little tighter. She tips up her head. “Rock?” “Yes, Baby Doll.” “Show me the basement.”

Rock’s face is priceless. I’m stunned that he kept working on our house. But so happy. Now that I see the actual foundation and it seems so much more real, I don’t know if I can wait another day to make it our home. “How much longer do you think until it’s finished?” Rock takes my hand as he leads me through the doorway. “I think fall is doable if they keep at it. The hardest part was the foundation.” I’m bursting with happiness as we stroll through the empty space. There isn’t much to look at yet, but it’s ours. As we walk back to the doorway, Rock turns and wraps his arms around me. “Won’t be long and you can start picking out the finish stuff you want.” I tilt my head so he’ll explain. “Doors, knobs, appliances, paint… that kind of stuff.” “Oh. You don’t have any opinions on paint and knobs?” He sort of half smirks at me. “No, Baby Doll. Paint it fucking orange. As long as you’re here with me, I don’t care.” “You don’t want some sort of man cave?” He rolls his eyes skyward. “Babe, I’ve been living in one giant man cave for years. Besides, I’ll have my sex dungeon.” “I’m scared to ask what you plan on doing in your sex dungeon.” “I plan to fuck you in it. A lot.” “You might want to stop calling it a dungeon, then.” I expected a laugh for that one—and he is smiling—but he’s also got a devious gleam in his eye as he yanks me tight against him. “We can call it whatever you want,” he says in a low voice that makes my insides quiver. His hands roam down and squeeze my butt while he leans down and kisses my cheek. “We can break it in now,” he whispers against my ear. “Um, no doors.” I point at the sky. “No roof.” “So? No one has a reason to come out here.” “Yeah, which is why you know the minute you get my pants off, one of the guys

will decide to go on a nature walk.” Mentioning “pants” and “off” was a bad idea. Rock’s all growly and fiddling with my jeans. “You need a hiking skirt,” he mutters. “I don’t think—oh!” Talking isn’t possible with his fingers stroking me like that. He walks me backward until I bump into a wall. Then it’s game on. Or rather, pants off and cock out. Big hands supporting my thighs, lifting me gently while keeping me pinned. “Oh, oh, Rock!” I yelp as he pushes inside. He tenses and cups my chin, turning me to meet his ardent stare. “Are you okay? Do you hurt from this morning?” My hands clamp down harder on his shoulders for leverage so I can move, since he’s momentarily stopped. “I’m feeling well loved,” I answer breathlessly. “But don’t you dare stop,” I add. He nuzzles my cheek and finally starts moving again. Lazily sliding in and out. “Fuckin’ love you, Baby Doll. So damn happy you’re mine.” His voice is low and husky, so sexy. I clench tight around him. My hips roll with him, and he thrusts faster. The wet sounds of sex fill the open air, increasing my excitement. “So good.” His warm breath puffs against my ear, and I whine in agreement. Buzzing bounces through the woods, and it takes me a second to realize the noise is one of the club’s ATVs. In an effort to distract me from the fact that we’re about to be caught by someone, Rock moves faster. His hand reaches between us to rub circles over my throbbing clit. “Better come quick for me, Baby Doll,” he rumbles against my lips. My mouth opens to say, “I can’t,” but my body blazes with excitement as he shifts his hips enough to hit the spot that sends me over the edge. I’m not aware of anything for the next few seconds—except how good he feels. Rock’s slamming into me faster until he finds his own release. He sets me down slowly, and my legs can barely hold me up. “Yo, prez?” Someone—Z, I think—calls out. “Shit!” I squeak, bending over to grab my jeans so fast I get dizzy. Rock—jerk that he is—laughs at my embarrassment. “I told you this would happen,” I hiss at him. “Go away. We’re busy,” he yells back. My pants are almost in place. “Jeez, that’s as good as inviting him in,” I grumble. Of course, I’m right. Barely a second later, Z’s in the doorway, laughing at us. “Hey, nymphos.” Rock keeps his back to Z. “Does ‘go away’ mean ‘come join us’ where you were raised?” Z winks at me, and my cheeks heat up even more. I mean, we’re dressed now,

but it’s pretty obvious what we’ve been up to. “Oh, sorry, didn’t hear that,” he answers with a smirk, not looking one bit sorry. Very slowly, I scratch the side of my nose with my middle finger, and Z cracks up. Rock catches me, and his mouth twists into a grin. “Don’t give him any ideas.” We join Z outside. “Guys are ready for church,” he tells Rock. “Yeah, okay. We were on our way back. Didn’t need to come track me down.” Z ignores him. “You want a ride back, Hope?” Linking my arm through Rock’s, I answer, “No, I’m okay. Thanks.” Rock smiles down at me. “Fun’s over, Baby Doll.”

Fuckin’ Z. As if I’ve ever missed church. And I’m not late. I’m the president. Not like they can start without me. Next to me, Hope’s somewhere between flustered and amused. “Thanks for bringing me out here,” she says. I reach down and squeeze her ass. “My pleasure.” She giggles and skips ahead out of my reach. “That too. But I mean thanks for the house… for everything.” Her fluttering hands catch my attention, and I grab them. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Baby Doll.” “I know,” she whispers. “Good. Want to give you everything.” “As long as I have you, nothing else matters, Rock.” A feeling of peace settles over me hearing those words from her mouth. I wrap my arms around her. “Knew you were special the moment I saw you in that courtroom.” Mentioning that time in our lives when she was married and I couldn’t have her usually brings sadness to her eyes, and I wish I’d kept the thought to myself. But today, the corners of her mouth tilt up and her eyes sparkle with amusement. “And I knew you were trouble,” she teases. “Damn right.” Her grin gets bigger. “The best kind of trouble.” As we step out of the woods, I see the parking lot is full. The ATV Z used to come find us is parked next to the clubhouse, so I assume he’s inside giving the guys all sorts of lurid details. I shake my head. “Sorry our time got cut short.” “It’s okay. I knew you had church. Trinity and I have a project we’re working on

anyway.” “Oh yeah?” “Yup.” “Do I want to know?” “Probably,” she says with a smirk. Fuck, I love her. I stop her before she takes the first step up to the door. “Love you, Baby Doll.” She turns and throws her arms around my neck. “Love you too.” “For fuck’s sake, you two,” Wrath grumbles from the doorway. “We’re all waitin’ on you, prez.” Hope giggles and pulls away. “Sorry, sorry. He’s all yours.” Wrath grins and holds the door open for her. “You can have him back in about an hour. Then we’ll have a big bonfire later tonight.” Hope claps her hands. “Can we do s’mores?” Wrath chuckles. “Whatever you want, sugar.” She flits around the room, saying hello to Bricks, Dex, and the others. My brother ignores my death glare and instead quirks an eyebrow at me. “Simmer down.” I give him a more serious assessment. “You ready?” He swings his arms and cracks his knuckles as if he’s getting ready for a fight instead of a club meeting. “Yeah, I’m good,” he answers. Hope returns to my side and stretches up on tiptoes to press a kiss to my cheek. All the guys waiting outside the war room whistle and generally hassle us. Her cheeks turn red and she draws back. “Have a good meeting,” she calls out as she heads down the hall toward Trinity’s room. I don’t know about good, but our situation is more optimistic than it was a few weeks ago. “Plants are healing, boss. Yield’s lookin’ plentiful,” Sparky informs me once everyone gets their ass in a chair. He’s grinning from ear to ear. “I think having your woman down there helped turn things around early enough.” I’m not seeing the connection, which seems to annoy Sparky. “You should send her down again. Plants liked her.” No one even blinks because Sparky says weird shit like this all the time. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll let her know.” I can picture that conversation now. Hope will think it’s adorable and probably run right downstairs. Shaking my head, I turn to Teller. “Things are good. CB’s strong.” I nod at Z. “Yeah, we replaced the ones we had to let go. No shortage of college girls coming in looking to make tuition,” he jokes and gets a fist-bump from Dex. My gaze lands on Wrath next. His hands are clasped in front of him on the table, and he’s coiled tight with tension. I raise an eyebrow at him, and he nods once before speaking. “Gym’s good. Thinking of keeping the kid on.” He pauses, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a smirk. “Supposedly, Ulfric’s all freaked thinkin’ you’re pissed with him. Might wanna give him a call.”

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck is going on with him lately?” Wrath shakes his head. “No clue. But that little discovery was a major fuck-up. He keeps that up, you know they’re gonna vote him out.” “Whatever, not our problem,” I say, turning to the rest of the guys. Murphy’s got details on a run he’s trying to organize over the Fourth of July. It will include the whole club, and I’m looking forward to having Hope join us for that trip. Now that Wrath’s cast is off, he’s eager to jump back into club business and agrees to join Z on the next Demon drop. I finally take the vote on introducing Loco to Sway. Surprisingly, everyone—even Wrath—agrees, with the understanding we’ll make the introduction but won’t have any further involvement. Once club business concludes, I glance at Wrath. I catch his eye, and he gives me a slight nod. “Hang tight, everyone. Wrath has an announcement.” Once that fuckery’s over with and I’m confident Wrath won’t dismember anyone, I run upstairs and grab Hope’s property patch. Can’t get the image of the cute way she patted me down looking for it yesterday out of my head. With the heavy conversation we had last night and then getting… distracted this morning, I never got to give it back to her. I need to see it on her. Now. She said she was working on a project with Trinity. Hell only knows what that meant. Trinity’s door is open, which is unusual. Giggling reaches me before I raise my hand to knock. Pushing the door open, I find the two of them sitting in front of Trinity’s computer. “Hey,” I call out. They both jump. Trinity flicks the monitor off while Hope spins around. Her mouth turns up, and my mind blanks. “Done so soon?” Hope asks. Church had never seemed so long. “Yup. Come here. Got something for you.” Trinity snickers and mutters something to Hope, who turns pink. “Wrath’s been a terrible influence on you,” she teasingly scolds Trinity. “Trin, you need help setting up the bonfire tonight, have the prospects do it, okay?” I tell her. “Sure, prez.” I’m getting impatient and raise an eyebrow at Hope. She turns to Trinity. “Later?” “Yup.” When she gets close enough, I reach out and pull her to my side. She latches onto the door and closes it as I drag her with me. “What’s gotten into you, caveman?” “Just missed my woman. We have some time to make up for.” I didn’t mean for that to come out so serious, but Hope doesn’t seem bothered.

“Yes, we do. What’s with the bonfire?” My shoulders lift. “Got lots to celebrate.” She quirks an eyebrow at me. “Oh yeah?” “Yup.” I pull her vest out from behind my back. “Also, I need to see you in this tonight.” “With or without additional clothes?” she sasses. “Now that you mention—” She snatches it out of my hands. “Give me that.” I end up helping her into it. She humors me by turning and modeling it for me, then plants a kiss on my cheek. My fingers trace along her jaw. “Gotta celebrate you being back home. Well, back at the clubhouse. Our home won’t—” “Rock?” she interrupts. “Yeah, Baby Doll?” She settles her hand over my heart. “My home is wherever you are.”

NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR

These are the original notes that appeared in Strength From Loyalty.

I need to admit something to you—I’ve had a twinge of guilt every time a reader wrote to tell me they wanted to see Hope and Rock have a baby. I’ve known from the beginning that was not going to happen (there are hints in Slow Burn and Corrupting Cinderella). I also knew I planned to have a wedding novella for them at a later point. Although, as Cara Connelly recently pointed out to me when I sketched out the story arc for her, it’s a wedding book. I think her words were something like “Uh, Autumn, that’s not a novella, that’s a book, and a long one at that.” All I can say is it will be different, complex, and told from three points of view. I hope I can pull it off. Something unexpected happened during the early reading process for this book. My early readers had an intense emotional reaction to Hope’s ectopic pregnancy. I originally wrote it more from Rock’s perspective and his reaction to it (guilt, because Rock takes on responsibility for everything). Diving into Hope’s feelings was a much more difficult and painful process than I expected for many reasons. Over and over, my early readers messaged me and told me how much the scenes when Hope is in the hospital made them cry. Now normally when a reader tells me my work made them cry, I say thank you, as I think it’s a compliment that I’ve managed to put words together that evoke such a strong emotional reaction (as a reader I feel the same way, if a book makes me cry it’s an auto 5 star for me). But this time, readers were telling me the scenes made them cry because it brought back memories of their own experiences of losing a baby. This time my words were bringing people to a deeply personal and painful place and I felt horrible about it. I almost considered scrapping that entire storyline, except it had been Rock and Hope’s story all along and it felt wrong to change it. I also knew Hope had a previous experience that she had suppressed and this was what would be part of what triggered those memories. I was encouraged to stick with that storyline

because it was actually cathartic. Unfortunately losing a baby isn’t an uncommon experience, but very often the painful feelings go unacknowledged. Having Hope acknowledge and talk about it gave her an opportunity to pull everything up from her past that she’d stuffed down out of shame, so she could grieve and process it all. I struggled to finish Strength from Loyalty. I think I really didn’t want to say goodbye to Hope and Rock. Each book has started and ended in a similar place (Slow Burn starts and ends near a courthouse, Cinderella started and ended with a birthday party) and they have always started and ended in Rock’s point of view. The original beta version of Strength from Loyalty ended with Hope, which if this was their very last book, would have been nice. For some reason it just didn’t feel right. I kept coming back to the beginning church scene where Rock is all tense and jazzed up about the guys voting on Hope. I wanted to end it in church, but didn’t want to give anything from the next book away. The second beta version ended with Wrath’s announcement. But I knew if I left it that way the screams of “cliffhanger” would haunt me in my sleep. And this book was about Hope and Rock, so it should end with them. Thank you Cassie, Kari, and Virginia for nudging me in that direction. I hope you liked my version of the property patch. The research on this, I found is limited and almost seems fictional in nature. So, I took great liberties with it, and added the details about each officer adding his patch, because it seemed like something the Lost Kings MC family would do. Having Hope accept something so foreign was a delicate process. By the way, I’ve been mildly amused with people who complained about Hope not turning into some badass, brawling biker-chick. That was never going to happen. It just isn’t in her nature. Never mind the fact that Rock has said repeatedly that’s not what he wants. Every time I’ve read that complaint, I’ve chuckled and said “well, you’re not gonna like Book 3 then either!” It’s not as if I’ve hidden the fact that my series is a romanticized version of an MC. If you need the grit, gore, guts, violence, abusive treatment, and catfights, then there are hundreds of other MC books for you to choose from. I’m not your author. I am in no way dismissing those books. I read and love plenty of them myself. I just don’t have it in me to write one at this point. Besides, to me there is nothing more “alpha” than a man who protects and respects the ones he cares about. One of the core values of MC culture is respect, and I find it incredibly disrespectful to assume every club is the same. Since MC culture is a real thing and so complex, it makes sense that no two clubs are alike. As Rock observes several times throughout the last three books, each club he interacts with has a slightly different culture, and what’s acceptable in one might not be in another. With Strength from Loyalty, Hope and Rock’s story now tops out at over 252,000 words. So people who didn’t understand why their story was being told over three books—I don’t know, that would have been one very long book. As I’ve said before, I am also setting up the entire series. Those who said they could have told the story in two books, well—I look forward to reading them.

While I struggled with closing the book on Hope and Rock, I also realized, I selfpublish this series. I’m not under contract. If I want to write about them at a later date, I can! Thank you everyone who has written and told me how much you love Rock. He’s been hanging out in my head for over a year now and shows no signs of leaving. So those of you who have written and said you could read about Rock forever—you may get your wish. BUT, you know who else is hanging out in my head? WRATH. He will not be denied any longer and I am so excited to finally dive into his story. Trinity is a very damaged character, but I am looking forward to getting to know her better. About 55,000 words of their story is written and I think it’s a drop in the bucket. At this point I have no plans to break their story into multiple books. We’ll see what happens. After the 120 hour marathon that was Three Kings, One Night, I am also looking forward to Murphy, Heidi and Axel’s story (you’re going to hate me) and of course, Z. Teller also has some issues that need to be explored. My original plan was to release Wrath’s book in May. With all the problems that seem to arise when planning these things out, that may be pushed back. Just know that when I do actually set a date, I hate to change it. I may not be “under contract” with a publisher, but I feel that I’m under contract with my readers, and I take that commitment seriously. If I tell you a book is coming out on a certain day, I will all but kill myself to make sure that happens. But I also want it to be the absolute best it can be. If I left you with unanswered questions, it was probably intentional. Every scene I write goes through a “what’s this scene’s purpose?” checklist. My crit partners are also very hard on me in this department. Even if something didn’t seem to serve a purpose in this book, I most likely plan to address it in a future book. For example, Sophie’s transgressions will come to light in the beginning of Book 5. In case you’re wondering, I write these author notes last. They are unedited. At the moment, I’m on my couch with my Pug snoring next to me. I’m thinking about how amazing it is and how incredibly lucky I am that so many people have connected with my stories and want me to keep writing them. Thank you! Autumn

Strength From Loyalty (Lost Kings MC #3) Playlist I Need My Girl - Blake Shelton The Upgrade - Jonny Craig By My Side - Matty Mullins Speechless - Memphis May Fire Room to Breathe - You Me at Six Lonely Tonight - Blake Shelton You Move Me - Garth Brooks Take a Little Ride - Jason Aldean The Open Letter – Jonny Craig It’s Over – Fight or Flight Coming Home – Avenged Sevenfold Those are a few of the songs on my Strength From Loyalty playlist. But to be completely honest, Blake Shelton’s, Bringing Back the Sunshine and Jonny Craig’s Find What You Love and Let it Kill You were the two albums playing on an endless loop while I wrote Strength From Loyalty.

BONUS SCENE #1

I tried to fit this into Strength From Loyalty but it just didn’t work out. Then there was a similar scene in Tattered on My Sleeve, but it got edited down. For purposes of a timeline, I’d say this happens shortly after Strength From Loyalty ends.

At the Range “It’s supposed to be a nice day. You wanna take Hope out to the range like you were talking about?” Wrath asks after Hope and Trinity disappear into the kitchen. My fuckin’ brain’s mush this morning. “What?” Wrath rolls his eyes at me. “What’d she do, suck your brain out through your dick?” “Watch your mouth.” He points a finger-gun at me. “Gun range. Hope. Teach her how to handle a weapon. Any of this—” “Yeah, yeah. Stop bein’ an asshole. I haven’t talked to her about it yet. Other than to ask her to put in a pistol permit application.” Knowing Hope, I doubt she’s bothered to do it yet. Wrath shrugs. “Not like anyone’s going to question us on our own property.” Finally, I crack a smile. “Lookin’ to make up for lost time outside?” “Fuck yeah. Leg still fuckin’ hurts, but I just gotta keep powering through it.” “Yeah, all right. Let’s do it.” “Cool. I got this Glock G43 for Trin, but she doesn’t like it. Maybe it’ll fit Hope.” “Doubt it. I think you’re better off teaching her how to use a revolver.” His shoulders lift. “I’ll bring a couple things for her to try.”

“Who’s trying what?” Hope asks as she returns. “You.” I point to Wrath. “And him. Gun range.” The expression on her face is priceless. “Hey, Rock, can I talk to you for a sec?” Trinity asks as she comes up behind Hope—who’s still standing there with her jaw hanging down. Wrath’s mouth twists into a smirk. “Close your mouth, Cinderella, or I’m gonna get insulted.” “I thought you…” Hope’s gaze darts between Wrath and me. I hold back the grin threatening to break loose and piss her off. “I’ll meet you out there, doll.” I can tell she wants to protest, but she’s afraid she’ll insult Wrath. “Trust me. He knows what he’s doing.” “Okay.” My dickhead brother rubs his hands together, like he’s trying to decide which way he wants to torture my girl first. I level him with a cool stare. “You can behave, right?” “Oh, ab-so-lute-ly, prez. You know she’s in good hands with me.” Even Trinity snickers at that. “God help you, Hope.” “You’re not going to join us?” “Yeah, I’ll ride out with Rock.” That seems to calm Hope and she comes closer, settling her hands on my shoulders. “You’re not worried I’ll accidentally shoot him?” she mock-whispers. “Range safety’s no joke, Cinderella,” Wrath warns her. “No, I’m not worried. I trust you.” I tilt my head so I can see Wrath. “Both of you.” Hope giggles and leans over to give me a kiss. That’s a mistake, because now the last thing I want to do is send her off into the woods with my best friend. I must be obvious as hell, because Wrath laughs, then gets up from the table. “Come on, Hope. What you’re wearing is fine.” Yeah, he knows if she runs upstairs, it’ll be another hour before they leave. “Well, can I at least put my hair up?” Trinity—well aware of how impatient Wrath can be—whips an elastic out of her pocket and hands it to Hope. Hope scowls at both of them. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I’m definitely feeling ganged up on,” she grumbles as she pulls her hair into a loose ponytail. I stand and tug her against me for a kiss. She wriggles out of my grasp and blinks up at me. “Don’t be long.” “I won’t. Promise.” I press one last kiss against her forehead, then motion Trinity to follow me. “What’d you need?”

Wrath’s wearing a devilish grin when I turn around. “You’re not taking me into the woods to kill me, are you?” The devilish smile fades, replaced with…regret? I’m not sure. “No. Come on, Hope. It’ll be fun.” He leads me into the garage, where he’s already got one of the club’s utility vehicles loaded up with gear. While I stare, he shrugs. “Was going out one way or another. Rock’s wanted me to teach you for a while. Figured since you were here—” “He has?” “Yeah. Since the accident. Not sayin’ you gotta carry or something. Just want you to feel more comfortable.” I mull that over while he grabs a set of keys and hands them to me. “You ever driven one of these?” Wrath asks as he tucks his massive body into the passenger side of the little vehicle, taking care that none of our parts touch. “No.” “Like driving a golf cart.” “I’ve never played golf.” “How is that possible? I thought every lawyer played golf.” “Not this one. Maybe that’s why I’m such an unsuccessful lawyer,” I say with a giggle. The self-deprecating thing seems to soften Wrath up. Figures he’s assumed I’m some stuck up bitch all this time. “You’re a good lawyer, Hope. You forget, I saw you argue to get Rock out the day you guys met.” My cheeks heat at the memory. “I didn’t say I was a bad lawyer, just unsuccessful. I don’t think the two always have a lot to do with each other.” His laughter echoes in the small space. “True.” He guides me out of the garage and onto one of the trails. A few times he has me stop so he can cut branches or move brush blocking our way. “I’m surprised you don’t make the prospects walk the trails once a week doing this,” I tease when he gets back in after the third or fourth wayward branch. He raises an eyebrow. “Good idea.” “Oh, great. Just don’t tell them it was mine.” More laughter. I have to push the gas pedal down harder to make it up a larger hill before the range comes into view. I have a small surge of pride that I navigated the unfamiliar vehicle over the rough terrain here and didn’t make Wrath grab onto anything or complain once.

“That was the prospects’ job last year,” he says nodding at the pavilion-style building in front of us. “Pull up right there,” he directs. I watch him unload a duffel bag, a few cases, and finally shake some manners into myself. “What can I help you with?” “I got it. Go pick out which bench to set up on.” Like I know the difference. But I go study the five simple, wooden tables and bench units. All of them face square boards with berms behind them. There are five targets spaced out at different intervals. “We’ll start with twenty-five yards,” Wrath says from behind me, causing me to jump. “Oh. Okay.” He turns me toward the counter lining the back of the structure where he’s laid out an arsenal. “Wow.” His lips curl into a delighted smile. “That’s the usual response from the ladies when they see my equipment.” “Oh, jeez.” “What do you want to start with?” My shoulders jerk up. “You tell me. When I put my application in, they said I’m not supposed to handle a handgun until after I get my permit.” Wrath’s eyes roll. I’ve been dying to ask someone about this since I heard about it. But none of my friends—well, except Sophie—really care about this kind of stuff. “Not even at the safety class they make you take. That seems silly, doesn’t it?” “Yes. It’s completely idiotic. New York’s got lots of ass-backwards gun laws.” “So, should I not touch one then?” His mouth twists into a smirk. “We’re on private property. I think it’s fine. Anyone asking questions is liable to get shot for trespassing anyway.” I don’t laugh and neither does he. I’m pretty sure he’s serious. “I’m on a long wait list for one of the classes anyway.” “Why didn’t you say so? I can get you into one.” “Oh, Rock made it sound like he wanted me to…” I’m not even sure how to phrase what I want say. “Do it on my own? So I couldn’t be connected to him?” He nods like that’s normal and he’s not surprised. “Yeah. This should be fine. But I’ll run it by him first.” I’ve got no response to that. While he runs down range to put a target up, my gaze travels over the array of weapons laid out. Before I get to touch any of the fun stuff, Wrath hands me earmuffs and plastic safety glasses. He arranges the muffs on my head, so I can still hear him. I’m feeling rather inadequate. “Which one interests you?” he asks. I choose the smallest pistol. It’s black, with sharp lines and angles. Wrath

chuckles when I say it looks badass. “Oh, wow, it’s heavier than I expected,” I gasp when he hands it over. “Rule number one. Always treat it like it’s loaded. Never point it at yourself or someone else. Not even jokingly.” Hmm…I guess instructor Wrath is in the building. “Okay.” Now I’m freaked out and don’t know where to point the damn thing. “Keep your finger off the trigger too.” Laughter rumbles out of him while I awkwardly figure out how to hold it. He takes me through loading the magazine—which is harder than it looks on television—and popping it in place. We walk out of the pavilion closer to the targets, where he takes time lining me up and explaining proper form. Standing behind me, he points to the target and explains how to use the tiny little iron sights. “Breathe. Take your time and line it up.” He stops and rearranges my hands. “Keep your thumb down, or you’ll get slide bite when you fire.” I have no idea what that means, but it sounds bad, so I keep my thumb down. “When you’re ready, slowly squeeze the trigger.” “This is harder than I thought,” I grumble. Behind me, he rumbles with laughter and arranges the muffs over my ears. He keeps his big hands on my shoulders, helping me stay centered and in the correct position. The recoil is harder than I expect and I jump. “Good job.” Wrath’s voice infiltrates through the ear protection. “Keep going.” I’m prepared for the kick now, so I aim at the fluorescent circles on the target and empty the gun. Wrath’s wearing a big grin when I finish. “My corruption of Cinderella is finally complete.”

I like to think I’m evolved enough to allow someone better skilled at something teach my woman. Turns out, I’m not. Because when Trinity and I arrive at the range and I take in Wrath with his hands on Hope’s shoulders—just guiding her, nothing inappropriate—I definitely feel like thumping my caveman club over his head. My jaw must be clenched pretty tight, because Trinity snickers. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about, prez.” I glance over and her laughter loosens me up. “Yeah, I know.” Hope’s gone through an entire magazine of bullets by the time we reach them. Wrath takes the gun from her and tells her she did a good job, before taking off to

get her target. I tap her on the shoulder and can’t help laughing at the way she turns and launches herself against me. “That’s harder than I thought,” she gushes. My mouth turns up at her enthusiasm. “Oh, ow.” She pops her thumb in her mouth up to the first knuckle. “What’d you do?” “Slide getcha, Hope?” Wrath asks as he joins us. She’s still got her thumb in her mouth, so she nods. My eyes narrow at Wrath. “I told you—” Hope stops me with a hand on my chest. “Knock it off. He warned me, I must have moved my thumb.” I glance down at her hand, which is still bleeding and lift my head to glare at Wrath again. Only the distressed look on his face stops me from kicking his ass. “Shit, Hope, I’m sorry.” He rifles through his range bag and hands her a first aid wipe and Band-Aid. “Guys, seriously. I’m fine. Cut it out,” she grumbles as she walks away to fix herself up. “Let me see her target.” Wrath hands it over with a grin. “She’s not bad.” He’s right. She’s not. I meet her over at the counter. “Show me what you learned, Baby Doll.” Her big green eyes blink up at me. “Um.” She picks up the G43 slowly as she remembers how to hold it and load it. “You feel comfortable with that?” Her gaze drops to the ground. “Not really,” she answers. “That’s okay. We’ll keep trying until you find something you like.” “Oh. Okay.” “All right, Trin. You’re up,” Wrath shouts. Her laughter rings out. “What do you have for me?” Both of them join us at the counter. Wrath’s mouth curls into a grin. “Got a nice twenty gauge, semi-auto I want to teach you how to use.” Trin rolls her eyes. “I know how to use a shotgun.” “Good. It’ll be easy then.” She smirks and winks at Hope. “I’m humoring him,” she whispers, making Hope giggle. “I heard that!” Trin gears up and takes aim. Then blushes. Right away I can tell what the problem is. “Here.” I help her position it. “Full contact with your shoulder.” “I guess I didn’t have boobs the last time I did this,” she grumbles in frustration. Hope chuckles. Wrath rolls his eyes. When Trin finishes and we’ve looked at her pattern, Wrath taps the gun Hope used. “You sure you don’t want to give it another try, Trinity? Good carry gun for you.”

“What do I need to conceal carry for? Going to Ward’s? I hardly ever leave the property.” Wrath shrugs. “You never know.” “Can we swap out the grip?” While they walk away to work on that, I pick up a revolver and show Hope how to use it. “This is much easier. Not as badass, but easier.” Good God, she’s funny. Watching how hard she concentrates—teeth biting into her lower lip, eyes narrowed—is getting me worked up. These benches are at the perfect height to… How the hell do I get Wrath and Trinny out of here? Hope turns and catches me staring at her. She raises an eyebrow. “Really? Guns?” “Guns and my hot fiancée.” Pink stains her cheeks as she hands over the revolver. “Show me what you can do, Rochlan.” Her husky voice and the way she says my name unravels me every damn time. “Jeez, you’re scary with that thing.” she says when I finish showing off. “Who do you think taught him?” Wrath asks. Hope snickers and I flip him off. “Liar.” Trin calls Hope over to show her the shotgun. Wrath stands next to me and folds his arms over his chest, watching the two of them together. He shakes his head. “She looked terrified, but she tackled it anyway.” Hope may be delicate in a lot of ways—as Wrath has so kindly pointed out numerous times—but she’s not a quitter and she certainly loves a challenge. “Hey, she said she’s on a wait list for the safety class. Do you mind if I have Jake get her into one of his?” That’s news to me. “Not at all. Thanks.” “She said you were worried about a paper trail between the two of you.” I absolutely worry about that. “Yeah, but I trust Jake.” “That’s what I figured. Still, your girl. Thought I should run it by you first.” “Thanks.” The girls finish up and wander over. Wrath lifts his chin at Trinity. “Ready to head back, babe?” “Sure.” The second their UTV is out of sight, I pounce. Hope’s fired up too, because she eagerly wraps her arms around my neck. The shock of her body pressing against me stuns me for a second. My mouth’s covering hers before she gets a sound out. Not a kiss. A fusing together—rough, hard, and I never want to stop tasting my woman. The scent of outdoors and gunpowder clings to her, working me up even more. I’m ready to fuck her right here, right now. Don’t give a fuck that we’re out in the open. She strains against me and pulls back. Breathless and dazed she’s so beautiful. “Rock, let’s go back to the house.”

“No. Can’t make it that long.” Her eyes flash with heat and curiosity. “What if they come back?” she whispers. “We’ll hear them.” She still needs convincing. Love the bit of shyness that still clings to my girl. I dip down for another taste of her lips, teasing until she moans low and soft. My hands skim down her sides to grip her hips. Her fingers sneak under my shirt, skipping up my back and around to my stomach. A harsh chuckle bursts out of me and I take a step back. “You’re tickling me, doll.” “Oh my gosh. How can someone so hard be ticklish?” Her fingers twitch over my ribs and then she’s yanking my shirt up. Hope’s up-close-and-personal admiration of me never gets old. Love the way she takes in every inch. Impatient, I whip my shirt off and drape it over the bench. “Bend over.” “I’m going to get nipple splinters.” Half-naked and ready to fuck, and she still makes me laugh. “That’s why I put the shirt down.” I give her a quick pop on her ass, which only makes her smirk. She bends over, arching her back in an overly seductive move that’s hot as fuck even though she’s teasing me. “Come get it, Mr. President,” she whispers. “Fuck.” Her tongue slides over her lower lip, and she wiggles her hips. By my reaction, you’d think it’s been months instead of hours since we fucked. My cock’s in my hand, fist stroking up and down while she watches. “Want something, Baby Doll?” “Stop showing off and fuck me.” Fuck, but that sass mouth of hers works for me every damn time. My hands work her pants down to her knees. Knowing it will fire her up, I lean over and whisper in her ear. “Be a good girl.” She moans and drops her head forward. That’s it. While teasing her is fun, torturing myself is not. I whip out a condom, tear into the foil and roll it on in seconds. She arches and strains as I sweep my hand over her ass, and up her back. “Please.” Her scent surrounds me. Familiar and intoxicating. Angling myself into position, I thrust inside nice and slow, giving her a second before pulling out. “Oh, fuck, Rock, so good,” she babbles while I bury myself inside her over and over. My hand strokes her clit until she makes that throaty, desperate sound I know means she’s close. It lights a fire in me and I need to come now. She goes over with me, screaming my name and a lot of other sounds. My lips find her shoulder, kissing my way to her neck. “Perfect. You’re perfect.” A satisfied “mmmm” slips from her mouth. I groan and pull away, but chuckle as she stays bent over, ass on display. “Worn out, doll?” “Yup,” she mumbles. I enjoy the hell out of that before helping her fix herself up. She rocks up on tiptoes for a quick kiss. My arms wrap around her, pulling her

up, the taste of her mouth is too sweet to release her yet. “You didn’t get enough?” she asks when I finally let her go. “Not even close, Baby Doll. I never get enough of you.”

BONUS SCENE #2

I’ve been so surprised (happily so) at how much people seem to love the MurphyHeidi-Axel love triangle (they also have a short Holiday story in Three Kings, One Night (Lost Kings MC #2.5). With that in mind, this scene was born. I’d say it takes place after Strength From Loyalty. Murphy, Heidi, and Axel’s story is book #6 of the Lost Kings MC, More Than Miles.

Prom Dress The last thing I expected to do with my Sunday afternoon is go shopping for a prom dress. Yet, here I am at a trendy little shop in downtown Empire waiting for Heidi to come out of the makeshift dressing room crammed in the back of the store. I’m not upset about it. Really, it’s more amusing than anything. I made the offer a while ago and to my surprise, she called yesterday and asked me to take her. “You’re sure you wouldn’t rather go with your friends?” I asked when I picked her up this morning. “Nope. They’ll just make fun of me for not wanting to wear some skin-tight, barely-covers-my-ass hooker dress.” I seriously love this kid. She wasn’t kidding either. One of the reasons we’ve been having a hard time finding a dress is because everything’s made of too little material for Heidi’s taste. “Anything?” I ask when another dress goes flying up over the curtain rod. “No. Side boob,” she grumbles. Chuckling, I take a few steps away to check my phone.

Rock: How’s it going?: Me: You don’t want to know. “Hope?” I turn and find her standing outside the dressing room. Her hands twist and fiddle with the skirt as she waits for my answer. “Oh, Heidi. It’s stunning.” It is too. Thin straps hold up a fitted bodice. Layers of chiffon flare out and swirl around her knees. The colors are what make it stunning on Heidi. Shades of blue and green fade into one another from the bodice to the bottom of the skirt. “I wish it had sleeves,” she grumbles. “No, it looks perfect. It really suits you.” “I like the gradient thing and I know Axel found this really sweet royal blue suit he wanted to wear…” She keeps chattering even as she whips the curtain closed to change. “Hand me the dress, honey.” She pokes the dress through a small slit on the curtain. A second later a hanger flies out. Chuckling, I arrange the dress and take it up front to pay for it. “Hope, you didn’t have to buy it. I brought money,” Heidi says when the clerk hands me the garment bag. “It’s fine, Heidi. Save it for getting your hair or makeup done. That I can’t help you with.” She laughs and takes the bag, hugging it to her chest. “I really love it, thank you. Maybe I can wear it to your wedding too?” “Sure, I don’t see why not.” “You’re awesome. I’m so happy you and Uncle Rock are back together.” My smile falters a little bit with the painful reminder of our recent break. I refuse to call it a break-up. “Me too.”

“How’d you do?” Teller greets us at the front door to his apartment. It’s been too awkward for them to stay at the grandmother’s house since she passed away, so Heidi’s moved most of her things in here. Today she confided in me that after graduation, she and Axel are planning to get an apartment near campus. I think she was hinting that I should talk her brother into the idea. I plan to play dumb on that one because I honestly don’t know what the right answer is. “Ohmygod, Marcel. It’s soo pretty.” “Can I see it?” “I’ll go try it on.” Heidi races to her room, slamming the door shut. “I’m sorry, Hope. I know what a pain in the ass she is to go shopping with.” I shrug. “We had fun. She’s got good taste.” He almost seems choked up, so I glance away. “Well, I appreciate it,” he finally says. “Marcel?” Heidi calls and we both turn.

He walks over and pretends to give her a serious assessment. She fiddles with the straps of her bra that the dress doesn’t cover and Teller raises an eyebrow at her. Her cheeks turn crimson. “I need to get a special—” “Don’t worry about it.” I reassure her. “I know a place I can take you, Heidi.” Her eyes meet mine but before she says anything, the front door opens. “What up, bro—” Teller grins. “Hey, Murph. Just in time for a Heidi fashion show.” “Hi, Murphy,” I call out, hoping he’ll pick his jaw up off the floor and focus on something or someone else in the room. Teller scowls at his best friend, while Heidi blushes an even deeper shade of red and drops her gaze to her feet. Uncomfortable. Fighting the urge to snap my fingers in front of Murphy’s face, I walk over and tap his arm with my fist. He shakes himself out of his trance and says hello before turning back to Heidi. “Hope took me to find a prom dress,” she explains. “Yeah, it’s uh, nice. You look pretty, bug.” Heidi’s eyes narrow and her jaw clenches. She turns and disappears into her room. Teller shakes his head. “You gotta stop callin’ her that, bro. She really hates it,” Teller says, proving he’s not as clueless as he sometimes seems. Murphy’s still staring at her closed bedroom door. “Nah. Been callin’ her that forever.” He glances at me. “How’d you get roped into this?” My shoulders lift. Hmm…explaining that while on a trip to Planned Parenthood for Heidi to get birth control pills, the subject of prom dresses came up, seems like a bad idea. “Girl thing,” I answer. That satisfies the guys and they start discussing club stuff. My phone buzzes. Rock: Miss my girl. Find a dress? Me: Yup. At Teller’s now. Rock: Have him call me after you leave. Murphy and Teller are both staring at me when I look up. “Everything okay?” Teller asks. “Oh, yeah. Rock says to call him after I leave.” He nods, then grins. “You’ll tell him I behaved myself, right, Hope? He’s still pissed at me—” “Yeah, I’m still pissed at you too.” I smile as I say it, but his eyes widen. That’s right you little prick, I know all about the girls you brought to Rock’s door while we were on our break. I don’t have to say any of that, though. The expression on my face is clear enough. Teller looks away and Murphy chuckles. “You know I wasn’t even there that night, right? I had nothing to do with it,” Murphy says, barely containing his laughter when Teller punches him in the arm. “Do with what?” Heidi asks.

“Nothing, honey,” I answer. She eyes her brother and Murphy suspiciously before coming over to give me a hug. “Thanks again, Hope.” Crap. Now I’m all choked up. Despite the rough time she’s had, Heidi’s such a sweet girl. “Any time. Let me know when you’re ready to go look for the other stuff.” “Ugh, you think I have to wear heels?” I can’t help laughing. “No. I think you can do whatever you want.” “How you gonna ride a bike in that dress, Heidi-bug?” Murphy asks. She wrinkles her nose before answering. “Axel and I are getting a limo with a couple of my friends.” “You need money for that, Heidi?” Teller asks. “Maybe.” My hands find Heidi’s and squeeze gently. “I’m going to head home. Have a good week at school.” Her mouth turns up. “Thanks.” I’m halfway to my car when Murphy’s voice stops me. “Hope! Wait up.” “What’s up?” I ask when he reaches me. “Nothing. Wanted to walk you to your car.” My silence tells him I’m not buying it. He opens my car door for me, and I toss my purse on the passenger seat but don’t get in. “What’s on your mind, Murphy?” “Thanks for doing that for her today. Teller better have thanked you.” “He did. Is that really why you raced down here?” His grin falters. “It’s just…her mom’s never been around and her grandmother hated doing that kind of stuff for Heidi. Teller and I used to try…but it’s not the same.” Goddammit. I’m going to cry if he keeps this up. “I was happy to do it. We had fun.” “Funny thing is, I know you mean that, Hope.” He chuckles when I frown. “I know you ain’t doin’ it to impress Rock. You got our prez so whipped he can barely see straight.” “Hardly.” “And you got no reason to wanna be in Teller’s good graces. Hell, you probably wanna smack the shit out of him.” “Well…” “I’m glad she has you now.” He glances at the apartment building. “We took her shopping for this junior high dance and she—” he shakes his head. “She was something else.” “I can imagine.” “She didn’t have a date, but she was determined to go anyway. I would have taken her but I didn’t think escorting a twelve-year-old to her junior high dance would end well for either of us, so I kept my mouth shut.” He chuckles. “She made

me swear up and down if she didn’t have a date for her prom, I’d take her.” “She told me.” He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Shit, I figured she’d forgotten.” “She was worried you’d be upset because she was going with Axel.” You know, her age-appropriate boyfriend. “Yeah. I don’t think a twenty-five-year-old at a senior prom would go over real well.” At least he gets it. “Probably not.” I’m about to slide into my car when Murphy surprises me with something else. “I’m behaving myself.” I cock my head and study him, surprised he cares what I think. “I know you are.” “No. I mean, I heard what you said after the funeral. It just took some time to sink into my thick skull.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize. Except, I’m not sorry and I don’t think I did anything wrong by telling him to stop sniffing after Heidi. “Anyway. Her birthday’s only a couple months away. I’ll talk to her then.” “That’s good.” The corners of his mouth quirk up in that cheeky smile he’s so good at. “You want to put in a good word for me, I won’t mind.” Laughter that turns into a snort bursts out of me. “I don’t think you need any help from me.” Even though he said it in a completely cocky way, I sense a bit of vulnerability lurking beneath his words that touches me. I give him a quick hug and get in my car. Murphy waves as I drive away. Good grief. Murphy and Axel are similar in a few obvious ways and so different in other ways. Both are good men and care deeply for Heidi. I don’t envy Heidi the choice she’ll have to make one day. Not even a little bit.

SNEAK PEEK OF TATTERED ON MY SLEEVE (LOST KINGS #4) Eight years ago… A zap of electricity shot through me when the blonde beauty behind the bar turned her head my way. How the hell was this chick planning to keep the peace at the Blue Fox Tavern? As long as we all behaved, the bar allowed everyone to wear their MC’s colors. But it was still a biker bar. If things got out of hand, I didn’t have much confidence the little cutie would be able to do much. Girl was gonna get hurt. Once I got over the shock of seeing the new bartender, I slipped my don’t-givea-fuck face back on. My brothers, Rock and Zero, were right behind me. Brothers by choice. As in we belonged to the same MC. But to me, the bond we shared flowed deeper than any blood relation. The three of us sat at the bar. The sweet, bubbly demeanor the girl approached us with was completely out of place in the seedy hangout. The way her eyes roamed over us, assessing the level of danger we posed, made me rethink my first impression. “Hey, guys. What can I get you?” Her gaze skipped to our cuts and zeroed in on each of our patches. She looked me over last, and holy fuck, when our eyes met, my dick perked right up. For just a second, the hard, calculating gleam in her eyes softened into something vulnerable. The moment passed, and she swung her gaze back to Rock, whose patch read President. “Scotch neat, please, sweetheart,” he answered. His eyes were busy assessing her as well, but I didn’t get the feeling he wanted to take her in the back room and fuck her like he did with just about every other chick he met. As the vice president, she took Z’s order next. Finally, she returned to me. “Sergeant-at-arms, huh? The Wrecking Ball.” A slow grin spread across my face. I liked her. “I’ve been called worse.” “I’m sure you have. What would you like?” I wanted her, spread out on the bar in front of me. “Jack Daniels, neat,” I answered. The three of us were silent while we watched her work. Slapping the drinks down with a tired smile, she glanced at the clock. She turned back to us and cocked her head, checking out our officer patches again. “You have a shakeup in leadership? Your patches are so squeaky clean,” she teased in a husky voice. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” Rock asked. A short, excessively curvy brunette jiggled into the space behind the bar and yelped, “Trinity! I’m so sorry I’m late!” The loud chick had herself stuffed into some sort of hot-pink tube top thing that

didn’t flatter her as much as she probably thought. “It’s okay, Storm,” the blonde answered, even though her expression said otherwise. Storm? Aw, fuck. As if she heard my thought, Storm turned her big, brown, doe-eyed gaze our way and shrieked. “Oh, Trinity! These are the guys I was telling you about.” She yanked the blonde over to us by the elbow. Her hungry gaze zeroed in on Z right away, which was unfortunate for her because he was strictly hit-it-and-quit-it. The few times we’d met her, Rock and I had picked up a definite undercurrent of desperation with this broad. Even though we let her party at our clubhouse, we’d both been smart enough to steer clear of her bear-trap pussy. Trinity seemed less than impressed. I wondered what sort of stories Storm had been spinning about us. “Can I stop by after work, guys?” Storm asked. Rock answered quick. “No. There’ll be a full house tomorrow. Stop by then, hon.” Her face fell, then brightened at the invitation. I glanced down the bar at Z, who looked ready to choke our prez. I couldn’t wait to give him shit later. I finished my drink and got up to take a walk around the place. Rock’s meeting was with a crew we hadn’t established a lot of trust with yet. My job was to check things out before they got here. Keep the place secure. Make sure nothing happened to my president. Back corner booth. That was where the meeting needed to go down. As I pulled a chair over, a breathy voice behind me called out, “Hold on. I haven’t cleaned that yet.” Trinity rushed over with a rag and wiped the most recent stickiness from the tabletop. I’m only human, so while she was busy cleaning, I checked out her pleasantly round ass. My fingers flexed as I imagined how perfectly her cheeks would fit my hands. For a biker chick, she was awfully conservative. I spotted what looked like two tank tops. Black on top, bright pink underneath. No thong or tramp stamp peeking out when she bent over—I think I liked that part most. She finished and spun around. Too bad my eyes were slow to react. She definitely caught me checking out her ass. I wasn’t ashamed, though, because shame’s never been an emotion I wasted my time on. Besides, now my gaze was fixed on something even more exciting—her tits all pushed up and spilling out of her shirt. It was difficult, but I looked up into her honey-colored eyes. How had I missed that color before? Or was it just the strange amber lighting we were standing under in the otherwise dark corner? “Is Trinity a road name or your legal one?” “Real. My mother had me during her Catholic phase.” I snorted a laugh. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Well, I’m tending bar at a biker hangout, so what do you think?” “I think things worked out well. For me, anyway.” Yeah, that one was lame. But it got a genuine smile out of her, which had been my goal. “So, Wrecking Ball, I don’t know your name.” “Wrath.” She fake-shivered and made a brrrr sound with her sexy-as-fuck lips. “Scary. Are you an angry fellow?” Man, I liked this girl. She didn’t say a lot, but when she spoke, she was a flirty little bitch. She clearly put up walls to keep guys like me at arm’s length, and that made me want her even more. “Not tonight. You got an ol’ man?” She scrunched up her nose. “Fuck no.” Then she looked me straight in the eyes, practically daring me. “And I’m not looking for one either.”

Wrath. His name should have been lust, because that was the deadly sin that burned through me when I looked up—way up—into his ocean-blue eyes. I should’ve gotten the fuck out of there. My shift was up. Storm finally had her fat, annoying ass slinging drinks. But curiosity chained me to the bar. I should’ve despised bikers. I should’ve most definitely steered clear of this one, with his thick, muscled arms and low, sensual voice. My normally impeccable self-preservation instinct seemed to be on the fritz. “Well, that’s good to hear. I’m not looking for an ol’ lady.” “I’m not looking for a hookup either. If you don’t mind, my shift is over.” Actually, I wouldn’t mind a hook-up with all three of them. Maybe not the president; there was something about him that triggered a warm, brotherly memory. Which was weird because I was an only child. But the other two, yeah, I would definitely be down to— “Trinity!” Storm yelped from behind the bar. “Christ.” I forgot about the Wrecking Ball and stomped over to the bar. “What?” “I cut my hand, really bad.” As I rounded the corner, her bloody hand came into view, and I swallowed back a tidal wave of barf. “Ew, fuck!” I whipped around and headed for the back office. “I’ll go get Marky.

He should probably run you to the ER.” Marky took Storm to the hospital, and I got stuck behind the bar for the rest of the night. Wrath and his friends met with an even scarier group of thugs. But they didn’t cause any trouble and they ignored me, so I didn’t care. “Trinity?” I looked up to find the president staring at me. “Have you heard from Storm? She okay?” I shook my head. It was unlikely I’d hear from Storm or Marky. “Nothing yet.” He nodded once and tipped his head to the side. “You hang with any local MCs?” He was asking if I was club ass for one of his rivals. Surprisingly, I wasn’t offended. “No.” “Oh, you just seemed familiar—” “My dad was in the Silver Saints when I was a kid.” Sympathy shone in his gray eyes. Clearly, he knew their rep. Fuck, why did I even tell him that? I usually kept that shit to myself. “He still in?” “He’s dead.” He quirked an eyebrow at me as if he wanted me to continue, and for some strange reason, I did. “He died in prison when I was ten.” “Club take care of you and your mother?” A shiver of revulsion rippled over me, and I closed my eyes for a second. Yeah, they’d taken care of us all right. “Not really.” He nodded as if he wasn’t surprised. His VP called to him. He quickly scribbled on one of the napkins. “Here’s the address and number for our clubhouse. We’re working on moving into a bigger place, but this is it for now. Stop by tomorrow night if you want. At the door, tell them Rock invited you.” “How many patched-in brothers you got, Rock?” “Ten right now.” “Small.” “Yeah. Like you said—had a shakeup in leadership. Later, Trinity.” I watched him walk away. Like fuck was I going to any club party. I didn’t care how “hot” or “nice” they were—according to Storm. I looked at the address. Right next door to a strip club. Big surprise there. “You closing soon?” The Wrecking Ball was back. “Yeah, thank fuck. My feet are killing me.” He threw back his head and laughed, a deep, sexy, rumbling chuckle. Curling his hands over the side of the bar, he swung his upper body over to check out my shoes. “At least you’re wearing sneakers and not fuck-me pumps like Storm. Can I buy you a drink, Trinity?” he asked in a much more serious tone. “I don’t drink on the job.”

He gave me a curt nod, and I took the trash into the back room. Marky could deal with it later.

I’d waited an hour for Trinity to disappear long enough for me to hustle her straggling customers out the door. The three of us agreed we’d stay until closing since Trinity was all by herself. But the poor girl looked ready to drop, so the bar was closing early. “Oh, did everyone leave?” Her soft voice pulled me away from my staring contest with a bottle of Jack Daniels. I pushed it away. “Yup.” “Even your guys?” That bugged me for some reason. I’d seen her chatting with Rock earlier. “Yeah, why?” She shrugged as if she’d only asked to be polite and didn’t really care one way or another. “Anything else you need to do?” “No, fuck it, I already worked way over my shift.” I chuckled at that. She punched her time card and stood there watching me. “Do you leave by the back door or something?” She laughed. “No, nothing but a dark, dirty, scary alleyway.” “Can I give you a lift home?” Her gaze drifted to mine and a mischievous little gleam shone in her eyes. “Do you have your bike?” “Of course.” What a ridiculous question. “Sure, you can give me a ride.” On the surface, her words were innocent, but she made them sound dirty. Or maybe it was my dick’s wishful thinking. My baby was parked right outside. Trinity studied it for a minute before looking up at me. “Do you have an extra helmet?” “Actually, I do.” I liked to be prepared when picking up chicks. I dug it out and handed it over. She fiddled with it for a minute, then strapped it on like a pro. The night was chilly, and I wished I had something to offer that would cover her better than the skinny little straps of her tank top. “You’re going to be cold. I’m sorry. I don’t have a sweatshirt or something with me.” “I’ll be okay.”

She got on behind me like she’d done it a million times. “Have you been on a bike before?” A soft chuckle and her warm breath swept over the side of my neck. “Yeah, I’ve ridden.” I started her up, twisted the throttle a few times, and took off. After a few blocks, Trinity’s hands moved from my hips to my front as she wrapped her arms around me. The distinctive movement of her hand inching toward my cock distracted me for a moment. What the hell was she up to? When I finally stopped at a red light, I turned my head to shout, “Where are we going?” “751 Mason Street.” Mason Street. Why did that sound familiar? “That’s three doors down from the bar!” “I know. I wanted a ride.” I shook my head and took the long way back to Mason Street. Maybe she wasn’t as indifferent to my charms as she seemed. Surprisingly, the spot I vacated was still open, so I slid in there. She handed me the helmet and ran her hands through her hair a few times. I don’t think she did it on purpose, but she looked damn sexy. I still straddled my bike because she hadn’t invited me in yet. “Aren’t you going to walk me home?” Hell. Yeah. I scanned the quiet street, searching for 751. It really was almost right next to the bar. It was also a shithole. “That’s convenient,” I said, nodding at the Blue Fox. “Happy accident.” She had her keys in her hand, and we stood there staring at each other. She seemed to be trying to come to a decision. I’m a patient guy. I could wait. “Do you want to come in? I can make you a biker’s poison.” I tried really hard not to get all cocky about the invite. “What’s that?” I asked, reaching out to tuck a few strands of wild hair behind her ear. Her eyelids fluttered at my touch. I was getting to her. The urge to do some sort of touchdown dance hit me. “It’s Jack and rum. Shake it and shoot it.” My lip curled in disgust. “Gross. Why ruin Jack like that?” “I knew it. Knew you were a whiskey snob.” She was actually teasing me and joking around. I wanted to kiss her. “Come on. I’ll find something else for you.” If the outside of the building looked bad, inside was a fucking nightmare. This coming from a guy who hung out in a clubhouse with nine other male pigs. Rickety stairs led up to an even more questionable landing. She opened the first door.

Inside wasn’t so bad. It was tiny but clean. What little she had was organized and pretty. “Do you want a beer?” “Sure.” My big shit-kicking boots felt strange in her tiny little apartment. But toeing them off might give her the wrong impression. I threw myself onto her couch and sank down so fast I wondered if I’d ever get out of it. She returned and handed me a bottle of beer. “Thanks. I think you’re done serving for the night now.” A small smile played over her lips. After a beat or two, she tucked herself onto the couch. Not really next to me, but not so far away I couldn’t reach out and run my finger down her arm. “So, Wrath, what do you do besides the sergeant-at-arms stuff?” She flicked her hand in the air like the topic bored her. Huh. She was the first chick who hadn’t wanted to sit and discuss the MC for hours on end. “I fight.” She rolled her eyes at me. “So predictable.” “No really. Mixed martial arts style.” “Are you any good?” “I’m undefeated.” “Doesn’t the MC take a lot of time away from training?” I considered her question carefully before answering. Yes. Actually, the last two years had been nothing but battle after battle within our club. I’d had very little time to focus on training or fighting. I hadn’t needed anywhere else to redirect my rage though, either. “Yeah, sometimes.” “So if you’re undefeated, shouldn’t I have heard about you?” “MMA isn’t legal in New York, so these are underground fights.” “So what else do you do?” Fuck chicks, ride my bike, knock people out. “Saving to get my own gym.” Suddenly, she was right next to me. Her hand brushed over my cheek. “What do you like to do, Trinity?” “Read.” “That’s not very exciting.” “Trust me, I’ve had enough excitement in my life.” Her voice came out more pained than teasing. There was that vulnerability I glimpsed in the bar. I turned to face her, cupped her cheek, and ran my thumb over her soft skin. She pushed forward and tentatively pressed her lips to mine. I reached behind me to set the beer on the end table, then placed my hand on the other side of her face. She yelped and bolted backward. “Cold hand!” “Sorry.”

Unruffled, she swooped in and kissed me again. Her hand dropped to my lap and she gave my cock a quick squeeze. Fuck. She had me so hard I didn’t think I’d be able to get out of my jeans with a hacksaw. She rubbed harder, pressing her palm into me. “Trin—” I slid down a little to relieve the pressure, and she took it as an invitation to work my pants open. Sliding her hands up and down my cock. Still no words from her, though. Just kept looking at me with those fuck-me eyes. Suddenly, she dropped down on her belly, stretching her legs out behind her on the couch, and closed her mouth around my cock. I hissed out a breath. Fuck, that felt good. She angled and arranged herself over my lap, licking, sucking, exploring. Christ, it was amazing. “Babe, wouldn’t that be easier on your knees?” I pointed to the floor. She released my cock with a soft pop and tilted her head toward me, her lips shiny and red. “I don’t get on my knees for anyone. Ever.” Shit. Why can't I ever keep my big mouth shut? “Okay.” I reached out and stroked her hair. My cock really wanted back in her mouth. Her hand kept lazily working up and down my shaft. Finally, she bent over and took me in her mouth again. Sweet motherfucking heaven. I couldn’t help thrusting up, and she didn’t seem to mind. She made happy little humming noises that vibrated up and down my dick. “Trinity, honey. I’m close. Fuck, I’m gonna blow. Stop now if you don’t want me shooting in your mouth, babe.” Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. She paused, and for an awful second, I thought she was going to stop. I froze, waiting, but then she took me deeper, trailing her tongue along the underside of my cock where she apparently realized I was extra sensitive. My fist curled in her hair. I really wanted to see her fucking eyes but couldn’t from this position. Then she took me all the way to the back of her throat. All thought left. White lightning gathered in my sac, streaking up until I came with painful intensity. Trinity didn’t stop. She sucked and swallowed while keeping her plush lips wrapped around my cock. “Ah, fuck! Trin. Shit.” She kept licking and kissing. Finally, she stopped and looked up with a soft smile. I cupped my hand behind her neck and pulled her to me. “Thank you.” I tried kissing her, but she wriggled away. “Guys don’t like that after doing that.” Huh?

She sat up and reached over to take a sip of my beer. Christ, my spent cock jumped when she put the bottle to her lips. She set the bottle down and crawled into my lap. With one hand at the back of her head and one above her ass, I pressed her against me and took her mouth hard. Forcing my tongue in her mouth, I explored every inch. I wasn’t nearly done with this little angel. No fucking way. I slid my hands down to cup her ass. Just as I’d suspected, my palms curved perfectly around each cheek. Holding her tight, I powered off the couch. She held on and let out a little squeal. “Bedroom?” She giggled and jerked her head in the only possible direction the bedroom could be. Yeah, she’d sucked my brain out through my cock. I shuffled us in there, even with my pants falling down. The fuck? A pink, frilly twin bed and some cheap furniture were all she had in here. I set her down gently, and she scooted up onto the mattress. I took a moment to zip up, but left everything else undone because I planned to fuck her very soon. “Get those pants off, babe.” She stood and tried to push past me. I held her with one arm. Tilting her head up, I searched her face. “That wasn’t enough, angel eyes.”

TATTERED ON MY SLEEVE (LOST KINGS MC #4)

THANK YOU!

Thank you once again to my wonderful beta readers who are always so willing to jump in and help at the last minute (Autumn time runs much slower than the real world.) Brandy, Tamra, Shelly, Amanda, Robin, Iveta and Angi, thank you so much for reading over the bonus scenes on such short notice. Elizabeth, Terra, and Krystal, thank you so much for everything you do and have done to get the word out about my books. Big thank you to my critique partners—Cara Connelly, Kari W. Cole and Virginia Frost. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I consider myself lucky to have met so many wonderful people since I started this journey with the Lost Kings MC. Thank you! As always, I have to thank my husband, who works long hours and puts up with a lot of crap, so that I may continue writing.

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ALSO BY AUTUMN Slow Burn (Lost Kings MC #1) Corrupting Cinderella (Lost Kings MC #2) Three Kings, One Night (Lost Kings MC #2.5) A collection of three short holiday stories set in the Lost Kings MC world. Heidi and Murphy. Wrath and Trinity. Z and Lilly. Strength From Loyalty (Lost Kings MC #3) Tattered on My Sleeve (Lost Kings MC #4) Wrath & Trinity Warning: This is not a "typical" romance. It's not even a typical MC Romance. LUST. Eight years ago, the Lost Kings, MC was recovering from turmoil within the club Wrath and Trinity met. Their connection was instant and explosive. FURY. Wrath and Trinity's story is a heart-breaking, soul-crushing, tear-your-heart-into-pieces story. The way they hurt each other over the years is intense, raw, frustrating and sometimes dark. FORGIVENESS. Can they move past their horrible pasts to become better people and ultimately forgive each other?

White Heat (Lost Kings MC #5) Rock & Hope, Wrath & Trinity THE QUEEN ALWAYS PROTECTS HER KING. For straight-laced attorney, Hope Kendall, loving an outlaw has never been easy. New challenges test her loyalty as she discovers how far she’s willing to go to protect her man. IF YOU HAVE HOPE, YOU HAVE EVERYTHING. MC President, Rochlan “Rock” North finally has everything he’s ever wanted. Hope as his ol’ lady and his MC earning money while staying out of trouble. The only thing left is to make Hope his wife. But as their wedding day nears, an old adversary threatens Rock’s freedom, the wedding, and throws the Lost Kings MC into chaos. LOVE MAKES THE RIDE WORTHWHILE.

While the club waits for Rock's fate to be decided, Wrath has to balance solidifying his new relationship with Trinity and fulfilling his president's orders. LOYALTY GIVES AN OUTLAW STRENGTH. Threats from unexpected places will challenge every member, but in the Lost Kings MC, brotherhood isn’t about the blood you share. It’s about those who are willing to bleed for you. . More Than Miles (Lost Kings MC #6) Murphy’s book. Sometimes the road you fear the most is the one that leads you home. Forbidden love is the hardest to forget... Blake “Murphy” O'Callaghan, Road Captain of the Lost Kings MC, has the world by the balls. Money. Women. The wide-open road. It’s all his, everything he wants…except the one girl he loves, the one girl who’s off limits. His best friend’s little sister, Heidi. Abandoned by her mother when she was little, Heidi Whelan’s familiar with heartbreak. Especially the heartbreak of falling in love with her big brother’s best friend. When Murphy pushed her away, it broke her heart. Now, on her eighteenth birthday, he claims he loves her? Growing up around the Lost Kings MC, Heidi’s witnessed his manwhoring ways. He’ll never give that up for her. Besides, he’s too late: Heidi’s in love with her high-school boyfriend Axel. Axel Ryan loves two things—motorcycles and Heidi. He signed up to be a prospect for the Lost Kings MC because it seemed like a fun way to get closer to her. Now that he’s gotten a taste of MC life, he’s not so sure this is where he belongs. He’s confident Heidi shares his dreams for the future, so even if he chooses another road, their relationship will survive the detour. With more than miles between them, will the deceptions they’ve lived with for so long be too much to overcome? Can Murphy convince Heidi that the hard roads they’ve traveled will lead to the most beautiful destination of all, or is he destined to ride the open road alone? White Knuckles (Lost Kings MC #7) Wrath and Trinity’s Wedding TWO TATTERED SOULS After countless detours, Wrath and Trinity’s wedding is only ten days away. Together they’ve battled their demons and are ready to declare their commitment to each other in front of their entire Lost Kings MC family. ONE BITTER ENEMY No one is prepared for the threat that crawls out of the shadows and issues an evil ultimatum. One that places Trinity’s future in danger and jeopardizes the entire club. Trinity’s more than ready to put her life on the line to save the club. For her it’s not a question. AN IMPOSSIBLE CHOICE Wrath’s role as protector of the club forces him to choose between the safety of his angel or the future of the Lost Kings MC and all they’ve built together. But Trinity won’t relent. A queen always fights for her king. She’ll risk everything to hold on to the peace she shares with Wrath. FAITH IS STRONGER THAN FEAR When evil takes her for a ride, will Trinity’s faith in Wrath and her faith in the Lost Kings MC be stronger than her fear? White Knuckles is the seventh full-length novel in the popular Lost Kings MC series. It is suggested readers have at least read books four through six in the series before reading White Knuckles.

OTHER MC AUTHORS YOU MIGHT ENJOY

It’s no secret I love MC Romances. Here are two other authors with different and unique styles. Bink Cummings: MC Chronicles—The Diary of Bink Cummings series is a fascinating fictionalized version of the MC family she was born and raised in. Phoenyx Slaughter: Asunder (Iron Bulls MC #1) The Iron Bulls MC is a bit “grittier” than the Lost Kings. Take a glimpse into their clubhouse.

EXCERPT FROM BINK CUMMINGS

Copyright © 2014: Bink Cummings EXCERPT “You sllllurrrr I can…n…t… interest you in some bud.” Blimp tries to pass me his pot filled pipe again. And again, I push it back at him, declining to take it, and blow out an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t smoke,” I repeat for the umpteenth time. You’d think after knowing me most of my life that Blimp would have gotten the memo that Bink doesn’t smoke anything, illegal or not. And that I only drink whiskey, which is what I am sipping on right now. It’s a bold and straightforward kind of drink. Something I can respect. The thought of drinking anything with fruit leaves my stomach churning, as the bile in my throat rises to an uncomfortable level. It’s after midnight. We’ve been partying for the first twelve hours and we have twelve more to go. The kids are home. The old ladies are slowly dropping like flies, and a slew of club whores are preying on the drunken imbeciles wearing cuts, getting their fill with open displays of sexual proclivities. One of those being the triplets, having three men lined up against the brick wall of the clubhouse, their leathers around their ankles, sucking their cocks in unison. The girls aren’t really triplets, but they do it all in threes, and they all have the same badly dyed bleach blonde hair. Their physical resemblances die at that. Niki and Dixie, my favorite club whores have taken up residency in Runner’s lap on a picnic table bench. Dixie’s stroking his cock, which she’s tugged out of his jeans, while Niki devours his lips in a feverish kiss. I can hear him panting from where I stand, which is next to the largest fire pit with my newfound friends Jezebel and Pixie standing idly amongst us, keeping to themselves. Even Candy Cane has

gone home for the night. Lazy old bitch couldn’t stick around; she went home to catch a few Zzzzz’s after the long day we’ve had. Not that I blame her. Even though I don’t appreciate being the only responsible lady left to babysit these drunk fuckers that have half a brain at best. “Do you really think I’m going to let a bitch ride my bike?” one of the newcomers with a green Mohawk growls, taking a swig of his beer. “If you do, you are fucking crazier than I am.” “What’s wrong with a woman riding?” I break into some sort of ongoing conversation, having no damn clue what was said beforehand. “Women ride bitch, plain and simple. Any female who does otherwise just wishes she had a cock instead of a pussy between her legs.” Alright, now this man is starting to piss me off. I shoot back my whiskey and toss the red cup into the fire. “Oh really?” I throw out my attitude in spades, cocking my head to the side, my hands securely on my hips. This sexist bullshit that I hear spouted all the damn time has got to stop. I don’t care who you are, ignorance is not motherfuckin’ bliss. It pisses people off. Fuck, it pisses me off. And what pisses me off more is when they run with it, and I’ve added whiskey into the mix. That shit takes any sort of level-headedness I might possess away, and you’re left with the raw, honest, no-holds-barred Bink. “Yeah, really. No man wants a bitch he has to contend with. I’d never take an old lady who thought she deserved her own bike,” he replies, his eyes daring me to say more. “Why? You afraid her nuts would be bigger than yours?” I shoot back with no decorum. “Bitch, you don’t know what you are fuckin’ talkin’ bout.” He shakes his head. I know I’m pissing him off. The taut line of his lips, and his firm stance, tells me that much. “I own a hog. I’ve also been riding my own motorcycle since before I could drive a car. And I have no desire to have a cock. If I had one, I wouldn’t get off every time I ride my bike, and let me tell ya, I enjoy coming on my bike.” He spits out his beer, eyes going wide. “What did you just say?” Blimp starts to hysterically laugh beside me, as do many of the other men in the group. Jezebel and Pixie both cover their mouths with their hands, laughing behind them. I didn’t think it was that funny. Truthful, hell yeah. But funny? No. “You heard me.” I boldly cup my pussy over my shorts. Leading by the example that many bikers have shown me when they grab their dicks. “This cunt of mine that I am very happy to possess gets lots of juicy, make-me-want-to-scream orgasms when I ride my hog. So you saying that women only want to ride because they have gender identity problems is bullshit to the tenth degree, asshole. I was eleven when I had my very first orgasm. And guess where that took place? On. My. Hog. Been hooked ever since.” I chuckle, and the men start to shove at the dumbass, teasing him for being told off by a girl. Lots of ‘Bink told you’s’ are muttered, and he just stares at me, stunned, shrugging off the playful ridicule when

each hand pats him on the shoulders and back, taunting him further. I shoot him a sly smile before excusing myself from the crowd and walking over to the table we now have lined with bottles of liquor. Pouring myself a half full glass of whiskey, I’m startled when a hand lands on my shoulder. “You know, talking about your pussy to a bunch of drunk bikers kind of ruins the example I was tryin’ to set today. Ya know, the one where they leave you alone. Tempting them with your pussy isn’t smart,” Big Dick explains. “You’re the club’s forbidden fruit. Lots of men want to taste it. But I’m the gatekeeper and they have to stay out of your orchard, or I’ll slay them where they stand.” “That’s quite the poetic analogy, Prez. Can I get you anything?” I gesture toward the bottles. “Naw, I’m good.” He raises his bottle of Bud. “Tryin’ to keep my wits about me.” “Hey, Big.” A club whore meanders over to us, topless, with a tattoo of a dragon sprawled across her pudgy stomach. “You want some company?” Her hand runs down the length of his arm, as her body melds against his. The brunette’s breasts thrust upward, offering a clear invitation. Big glances down at her, suggestively licking his lips, eyebrow cocking upward. “If you can fit my cock in your mouth. I’ll take you to bed,” he smoothly replies. A rehearsed phrase no doubt. A giddy expression fills the club whore’s face and she drops to her knees in the grass and reaches up to his zipper. He shakes her off. “My cock’s too big to fit out of my zipper. Let me unbuckle.” He unhooks his weighted buckle and tugs the belt off, dropping it onto the table beside us with a loud thud and sucking back the remainder of his beer, before tossing the empty bottle aside. “There,” he offers. The girl, who can’t be any older than twenty-two drives for his crotch, frantically unbuttoning his jeans and ripping down the zipper. His erect cock springs free and I take in a sharp breath. He’s not wearing any underwear. I can’t believe I am watching this. Why didn’t I walk away by now? I must look like a complete idiot for actually watching this desperate girl beg for his dick. I’m envious of her in a way for being so bold. The meaty head of his nine-inch cock is engulfed by her mouth. Filling the air with loud sucking noises. Big reaches down and combs his fingers through her hair. “I’ve got to go,” I mutter and turn to leave, only to be stopped when Big’s hand shoots out, grasping my forearm, forcing me to stay in place. “No. Stay. It won’t last long.” “But…” I lose all sense of thought as he tightens his hand around her long hair. I want to look away, but I can’t seem to do it. I don’t know why, but it’s turning me on. My pussy is getting wetter the longer I see her sucking on his massive cock. I find myself wondering if I could beat the impossible - to fit his cock into the back of my throat without choking on it. I never gag. I’ve taken thick seven-inch cocks in my

mouth and deep throated. They were never a challenge for me. I continue to stare intently, watching her pathetic attempt at sucking the head and using her hand around the rest, which is somehow even more pathetic because her fingers can’t even close around it. I glance at my own hand in comparison. Well, neither could mine. The thick veins in his cock swell, even in the dimness of the backyard I can see his rapid pulse beating through them. Unconsciously, I lick my lips. Bucking forward, Big Dick shoves his cock further into her mouth and she violently gags. Again, he thrusts harder and she releases his cock from her hand, pushing both of them onto his thighs to keep him from fucking her face. “If my balls don’t touch your chin with my dick buried in your throat, I’m not fucking you,” he states, almost nicely, as though he already knows what to expect. She nods, his head still between her lips, her cheeks streaming with mascaraladen tears and a determined expression covering her face. I respect the hell outta her for even attempting what we all know is systematically improbable. His cock in her mouth in no world would fit. It’s like shoving an elephant through an airplane window. Thrusting into her mouth again, she wails a muffled cry, squeezes her eyes tightly shut and gags, hastily pulling Big’s cock from her mouth and puking all over the grass beside his boots. Heaving for breath, her hands planted in the grass, her shoulders sink as they hold up her drooping head. Big doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even seem to be fazed by the club whore suddenly falling ill from his cock. He just replaces her mouth with his hand and starts to stroke. I watch his hand slide up and down his spit-slicked rod, and I have to force myself to stay on my feet when my body wants nothing more than to give in to temptation and try to defeat the impossible. The logical side of me is screaming that it’s purely a matter of educational evaluation to see if I can or not, while the naughty part of me doesn’t care about the other part and is only paying attention to the throbbing cock I am watching being stroked. That, and the fact that I am loving every single bit of it. Controlling bastard or not, his dick is hands down the sexiest one I’ve ever seen. And my pussy agrees as she begins to weep from neglect. “This is wrong,” I mutter, to myself. “Yes. But he likes you watching. Come over here.” Big continues to leisurely stroke his cock like he has all day and takes a few steps over to the side of the clubhouse. Leaning his shoulder against it, he tugs me to stand in front of him, concealing me from prying eyes, in the darkened corner. “Finger yourself,” he demands, in a husky whisper. “What?” “I can smell you. If you don’t get off in front of me, I’m not going to be able to come. Now drop your shorts and finger yourself.” “I… I can’t get off that way,” I whisper, embarrassed. “You only get off riding on a motorcycle?”

“Yes.” I look away, ashamed. His warm hand is quick to turn me back to face him, tilting my chin up to look him in the eyes. “I could smell your pussy when you came on the back of my bike the other day. I didn’t know that was the only way you got off. Has a man ever made you come that way before?” “With his fingers?” He nods, barely playing with his cock any longer. Big’s eyes are watching me, observing my reactions, which I am sure are steeped with a mixture of confusion, and recognizable shame. “No. But it’s not for a lack of trying,” I levelly admit. “Okay,” he states, bobbing his head, momentarily deep in thought. “Drop your shorts.” “Why… Why would I do something like that?” I am beyond mortified. Big takes a step forward, pushing my back against the wall. My body is pinned by his. His warmth washes over me, and his scent, both comforting and arousing, hits me hard, like a pure shot of addictive ecstasy straight into the heart of my pussy. As his hard cock comes to rest firmly between us, pressed into my stomach, my knees go weak with want and I accidentally groan. “Shorts, Bink. You take them off willingly, or I will do it myself.” “This is so wrong.” I shake my head, my stern resolve fading fast. My hormones taking over, controlling my every want, whim, and desperate need. Big’s demand to take my shorts off suddenly doesn’t seem so much like a demand anymore and is replaced with a feeling of lust. The desire to have a man, any man to touch me between my legs. To relieve the incessant need to come. To shatter. To feel a level of pleasure only evoked by the ability to lose myself in unbidden desire. “It’s not wrong, Sugar Tits. It’s just right.” The smooth confidence in his voice leaves me breathless, gasping for air. My chest heaves for breath as my large breasts thrust into his stomach like a piston. “You’re old enough to be my dad. You raised me.” I’m not sure if I am talking to convince him or myself that this is wrong. “A dad wouldn’t want to eat his daughter’s pussy like I want to eat yours. Now take off the shorts before I blow my load all over your shirt.” He backs away and I unbutton my shorts, dropping them to pool around my feet. “Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groans a whisper, raking his molten gaze along my body, forcing an icy-hot shiver to ripple down my spine. “It’s been a while.” A smile curls up from his beautiful lips, the one dimple accenting his cheek. An intense flutter of butterflies consumes my stomach, a foreign feeling that I’m quick to relish. What this gorgeous, infuriating man does to me and my body is scary, yet amazing at the same time. I don’t know what to think. All I do is feel. Feel his power, his strength, and the palpable surges of desire that are eating me alive with his eyes. Dropping to his knees before me, Big holds onto my hips. “I’m going to need you to kick out of your shorts and hook your legs over my shoulders.”

I comply without protest, kicking my shorts off into the grass. I hook one leg over his shoulder with ease, and he helps me with the other. His face is stuffed in my pussy, and my back supported by the wall. “Mmmmmm.” He inhales. Big’s tongue skims the hood of my engorged clit, and he groans. Licking the hood again, my eyes roll into the back of my head, and I shudder. My hands finding their way into his hair, I pull the rubber band from his ponytail letting his thick locks flow freely, and I run my fingers through them. “I need a kiss.” Big’s words come out muffled. “A kiss?” I whisper, confusion setting in. His lips kiss my pussy lips, and a wave of beautiful realization transpires. “More kisses,” he mumbles, driving his tongue deep into my core, and I squeal, tugging on his hair as my body falls further into a new world - a world where I live with pleasure enveloping me from all angles. Swirling his tongue inside my pulsing core, my knees, resting on Big’s shoulders, begin to shake. Big’s groans of satisfaction vibrate through me. His tongue is plunging into the depths of my tight hole, French kissing it, drinking down my free-flowing juices that I know are dripping from me, coating his tongue with every deepened kiss. Suddenly I begin to feel his body jerking below me; Big’s hand is rapidly beating his cock. The faster he masturbates, the firmer he plunges his tongue into me. I lose all thoughts as I feel the walls of my pussy clamp down around his thick tongue, driving me further to the edge of the earth-shattering precipice. The exquisite pleasure stops abruptly, and his body freezes. Thrusting his hips forward, I hear him lowly growl his release, with his face stuffed into the sensitive folds of my sex. I open my eyes to see him, with sated, glazed over eyes, smiling into my pussy. Backing away, he lifts my one leg off of his shoulder and I nearly protest, but he stops the words about to fall from my lips with a single look. A look that tells me he isn’t going to leave me hanging. A look that glues me to the wall, my legs wobbly below me, spread open for his pleasure. Big stands up from the ground, wiping the back of his hand over his drenched mouth. A satisfied smile adorning his handsome, relaxed face. Stepping forward, our bodies inches apart, he gazes down upon me. My toes curl as I inhale his scent. The scent of man, of crisp leather, of him, it owns me. Wordlessly, he cups my pussy with his hand. I glance down to see how huge it is in comparison, and nearly come on the spot. The sight of his S.S ring on the middle knuckle fills me with a kind of warm pride. “You’ve never come this way,” he seductively whispers, sliding his middle finger through the cleft of my pussy and resting on the outside of my wanton hole. “Eating your pussy was for me a selfish need that I had to fulfill. I’m a selfish fucking bastard.” He shrugs, “But this.” His finger encircles the outside of my hole and I shiver at the pleasure even that causes. I love his hands on me. Skillful, deft hands that know how to evoke pleasure. He’s not an ignorant man with no experience, no desire to please. Big, in every way, is pleasuring me. My mind, my body, and my soul. The mere presence of the man I spent all those years looking up

to is now, in my time of desperation, filling a void I didn’t know was there. A void where I am desired, pleasured, and made weak in the knees by a man of the club that I have been a part of for so long. Nothing in this world could ever compare to the way his eyes bore into mine, the bold way he suggestively licks his lips, as his finger slowly enters the walls of my whimpering pussy. His touch is calculated and effortless. Curling his finger into my core, he rests on my g-spot and ever so lightly he massages it. I moan fiercely through parted lips, never stopping to look down at his hand, locked only into his glazed lust-filled eyes that are equally entranced with mine. “You feel that?” he grunts, softly. “That is your pussy milking my fuckin’ finger.” My walls keep clenching and unclenching around him in their own desperate way to take the burning ache of desire from my loins and fill me with the sense of release I am willing to beg for. “That pussy is a muscle, Sugar Tits, and that muscle wants my finger inside of you. Do you want that, Bink? Do you want me to give you the orgasm I’ve been dying to give you?” I nod my response. “Tell me that you want it.” “I want it.” I don’t hesitate to let the words fall wherever they may. I will tell him or give him whatever he wants. In this moment of weakness, of nothing but hormones and a desperate pussy filled with the warmth of his hard yet soft finger, I will give him anything. Tell him anything. Do anything just to keep this feeling. To hold onto it and lock it up tight and store it in a safe box to look back on forever. A night that would have never happened if I wasn’t here with whiskey steeping my veins. A night where my inhibitions have been crushed. A night I will cherish, even if that makes me sound like a needy club whore, like the rest of them. “What do you want?” “I want to come.” “And who is going to make you come?” “You.” “Who am I?” “Big Dick.” “No.” I flash him a fading look of confusion. “This isn’t Big Dick pleasuring you, this is Richard pleasuring his Eva. This isn’t club shit. This is us. In our home.” He glances over to a group of bikers still drinking around the fire. “Well.” He shrugs. “Outside of our home.” My heart warms at his words, the butterflies battling inside of me more powerfully than ever. “Put your hand over mine,” he orders. I listen and cup it over his, which is between my legs. “Feel me, feel you.” “I don’t think I can wait. Just do it, Big, I can’t. It aches. My pussy aches.” I know I’m whining, and I don’t give a shit. My body is pushed to its limits physically, emotionally.

Deliberately, he shakes his head with a smirk. A fuckin’ smirk! My sexual need turns into frustration, and I have the urge to push him away. To stop toying with me. To just fucking do it and get it over with for Christ sake, or leave me alone and let me try to do it myself. “Big—” “Shut up.” His tone is clipped, and I frown unlocking my eyes from his, turning away. “Fuck…alright…I’m sorry…just let me feel you…okay?” I glance back up to see a distinguishable expression of worry. “Just let me do this. Please. So just shut up and deal with the ache. I want to do this. I need to do this.” For a fleeting moment, I have this deep-seated feeling that shoots straight to my heart. That this isn’t about me and my pleasure. This is about Big being the one to control it, like he does everything else in his life. To give him a part of me by letting him control the outcome. Like this experience might actually mean something to him beyond the confines of inhibited lust, which is an absurd notion. A jolt of carnal decadence seizes me, when he retracts his finger and slams it back into my pussy. I cry out, biting my bottom lip. Most definitely alerting the yard with my pleasure cry. “How does this make you feel?” He slams back into me again, and I wail a profound moan, reaching out, grasping the edge of his cut, my head dropping forward, stars dancing in my eyes. That was the most amazing feeling of my existence. Through heaving breaths, I weakly reply, “So good.” “I need more,” he demands, unmoving. “Your finger inside of me is amazing. I’m going to come, Big.” “Where are you going to come?” “On your hand.” “Damn fuckin’ straight, Sugar Tits. You are going to fuckin’ come all over my fingers.” He steps forward, pinning me to the wall, his knee coming to rest between my spread thighs. “You will scream my name loud and clear when you do. And the men of this clubhouse are going to hear it. Viper, that prick who touched your fuckin’ ass today, is going to hear it. The angels in heaven will hear my name fall in ecstasy from your beautiful lips. Then they will know. They will know, fuckin’ know that this pussy.” He jerks his finger inside me, and I groan. “This fuckin’ hot as sin, tastier than everything in this world pussy is off motherfuckin’ limits. Not a single one of these assholes will even think to touch a pussy that I’ve marked.” His words are knotted together with an edge of smugness, laced through with a dark feral possessiveness that makes me gasp, and my pussy drips with even more desire. Leaning his head next to my ear, he whispers, “You ready?” I hesitantly nod. The promise of finally being able to let go exhilarates me and scares me all at the same time. “Then you better hold on tight.” His hand comes out of my tightness, only to be replaced quickly as he rams back into me. Repeatedly he pounds into my pussy, fast

and hard, the sounds of my pussy being finger fucked into paradise fall from my lips in loud moans with each thrust of his finger into my tightness. Working me higher and higher, my toes curl in my boots, my head falling forward, my hands gripping his cut so tightly they turn white. I let it all go. I feel it all. Each hot, short breath he expels that washes over the skin of my neck. The triumphant growls that garble from his throat the further and harder he pushes me. The feeling of my pussy being pounded into such a manic state of molten arousal that I can feel the edge nearing. The dam of my pent up need, about to break. Then he stops, stilling his finger, and my pussy tightens to pain around his finger. “It’s time,” he whispers and with the tip of his stilled finger, he jabs it painfully into my g-spot, and I lose it all. I explode all over his fingers as I scream out his name in a battle cry of pure white-hot ecstasy. My body spasms uncontrollably and he holds onto me, cradling me with one arm, as his finger stays seated in my wildly pulsating pussy. I heave to catch my breath, try to see something, anything, but my eyes are blank, matted with tears, my brain overcome with the deepest form of satiation. I go slack from head to toe and Big doesn’t miss a beat, as he sweeps me up into his arms, and I droop over them, lost in the new world that I’ve discovered. The world where my orgasms are owned and taken. The world where a man knows your body better than you know it yourself. A world where you don’t feel ashamed to feel your veins run rampant with desire and lust. A world where a man makes your needs his. A world where Big has ruined me for the rest of the men I’ll ever meet for the rest of my life. Never to be so completely satisfied as I am at this very moment, as he carries me, bottomless, into the back of the clubhouse, where he kicks open my bedroom door and tucks me into my neatly made bed. “Sleep well, my beautiful Bink.” His lips kiss and linger on my forehead. I hear him scent me just before he pulls away, walking out of my door and shutting it in his wake. A smile of happiness splits from my lips and I turn over in bed, cupping my pussy with my hands between my legs. I feel it radiating its warmth like the sun; my pussy lips are puffy, and my hole worn the hell out. I feel amazing, like a new person with a new lease on life. Closing my eyes with a blissful smile on my face, I am quick to drift off into a full night of peaceful, sated sleep.

Awakening in the early morning, the sun drifting through my bedroom window, I turn onto my back. The dip at the edge of the bed startles me, and I nearly scream as my eyes shoot open, quickly adjusting to the light that is streaming painfully into my eyes. “Morning, sunshine,” Candy Cane chides, with a bright, over-the-top smile, while the rest of the group of ladies stand quietly at the opposite side of the room. Uneasiness is written across their faces, like a beacon of red flashing lights. “Morning,” I grumble out of my cottony mouth, the need to brush my teeth overwhelming my brain. I cover my mouth with my hand. “Sorry, morning breath.”

Candy Cane chuckles, and Pixie, Debbie and Jezebel do the same, their uneasiness quickly dissipating and amusement taking its place. “So the clubhouse is up and the mouths are running. Care to fill me in?” The glimmer of teasing sparks in Candy Cane’s eyes. I am sure the entire compound is buzzing with gossip. The club whores being the biggest blabbermouths in town doesn’t help my case. Or the loud orgasm I screamed in the courtyard full of inebriated bikers. So much for privacy. The cat is way out of the bag. “You already know.” I talk behind my hand, sitting up in bed and still in the same clothes from last night. “No,” Candy Cane hesitates, a knowing smile cracked ear to ear, like a demented clown. “What I know is this.” She pulls out a folded piece of paper from her bra and proceeds to deliberately take her time unfolding it. Running her hands over the creases, she flattens the worn paper out and drops it into my lap………. to be continued. The Diary of Bink Cummings Volume 1 is free on select platforms. Visit Bink’s Facebook Page At: www.Facebook.Com/BinkCummings PEACE

EXCERPT FROM PHOENYX SLAUGHTER

Phoenyx Slaughter Copyright © 2015 Karina Although the felt of the pool table is starting to chafe against my bare back, the face planted between my legs has a magical tongue attached to it, so I’m not about to complain. Firm fingers dig into my thighs, pulling me closer. This man is insatiable. Devouring me, not giving a shit about the wet, slurpy sounds echoing through the cavernous room of his clubhouse. Not that it matters. For the moment, we’re alone. This is my first time inside the Iron Bulls MC’s clubhouse. “Whatcha got here, Dante?” Dante, that’s magic tongue’s name. I whine and bump my hips up when he stops licking me to answer whoever interrupted him. “None of your business. Get lost.” “You got her laid out in the front room. That’s beggin’ to have someone join in.” Even though it isn’t phrased as a question, I think he’s asking permission. Dante flicks his simmering brown eyes up at me then slips a finger inside my pussy. “She’s a tight little bitch.” My eyes roll shut and I let out a moan. “Jesus, fuck! Karina? What the hell?” My eyes snap open.

Logan. “You know her, Hemi?” “Yeah, I fuckin’ know her.” Logan comes into my line of sight and my skin heats up with shame. My breasts are partially out, my skirt up around my waist, thighs spread wide, and Dante’s fingers are still stroking me. This is embarrassing. But not surprising. I’d known exactly what I was doing when I hopped on the back of Dante’s bike this afternoon after school. I “accidentally” bumped into the big, frightening biker outside the liquor store. I couldn’t have planned it better. Except, I’m not getting the satisfaction I expected from the experience. “Take her mouth. I’m busy down here.” Then Dante disappears between my thighs again. I can’t help moaning and arching my back up. Logan stands over me. “Fuck, you even legal, yet?” he mutters. “Never stopped you before,” I whisper. “Jesus.” He rubs his hand over his face, and glances at Dante. He doesn’t seem to be able to make up his mind. Finally, he unbuckles his belt and pulls his cock out. He strokes himself from root to tip, then traces his fat cockhead over my lips. “Open.” Below, Dante takes my clit, sucking it into his mouth and I gasp. Logan uses the opportunity to shove his cock in my mouth. I reach over and grab him, sucking him down harder. “Fuck, girl.” Dante stands, tugging me down the table, before plunging into me with his thick cock. I scream around Logan. “Watch your teeth, Karina,” he warns. Dante has a firm grip on my hips as he pumps into me with ruthless strokes. “You gonna come for us, lil’ girl?” I whine and nod my head. “Get him off first. Let me see what a good little girl you are.” I can do that. I remember very well what Logan likes. I focus my attention on him, even as pleasure blooms through my body. His taste is familiar and brings a rush of memories—some sweet, some horrible. In no time, he’s giving up his thick, salty cum and I swallow it down in great, greedy gulps. He rubs his thumb over my cheek as he pulls out, tucking his cock away. The look on his face is unreadable. “Hot, fucking, lil’ bitch, ain’t you?” Dante grunts as he pounds into me. One hand slips from my hip, so his thumb can rub my clit. With Logan taken care of, I’m free to close my eyes and let Dante overwhelm my senses. He continues rubbing my clit in precise circles, while slamming into me. “Good. Fucking. Girl. Tight as hell.” His fingers are digging into my hips, but I like the way he makes me feel. I gasp and twitch as he keeps working me over. “That’s right, come for me. Come on my cock, you hot little bitch.”

I’m floating as I shatter and fall back down to Earth.

Later we’re in Dante’s bedroom. In his bed. My dress hit the floor the minute we stepped inside. “Decided I don’t want to share you with anyone else while you’re here, babe.” I like the sound of that. How many times had I wished Logan felt that way? “You need to be anywhere?” he asks. “No. My dad’s out of town, so I’m good as long as I get to school on time.” He draws back with a quizzical expression. “School?” Heat floods my cheeks. “Yeah.” “How old are you, babe?” “Eighteen. I just turned eighteen last month.” “Oh, well thank fuck for that. Ain’t I a dirty old man?” He laughs hard and I like the raspy, rumble that pours out of him a lot. Then he gives me a simmering look. “No wonder that fuckin’ pussy of yours is so nice and tight.” I squirm under his coarse language, but he seems to like my discomfort. “Don’t be shy, babe.” His hand massages over my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. “Everything about you is perfect.” I think if he keeps talking like that, my plans for revenge will go up in flames. Asunder is available here. Phoenyx can be found on Facebook and the Iron Bulls MC Clubhouse on facebook. Contact her at: [email protected]

The End 1.26.17 Amazon Version