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From international arms dealer, to full-time dad.
Ethan ditched me halfway through signing our marriage license. Seventh time. And once again, it was for the girl he grew up with. I call him. No answer. I text him. Nothing. So I end up calling Chloe's phone — because of course that's where he is. And of course, he picks up. "God, Iris, can you stop? Chloe twisted her ankle. I need to take care of her. Stop blowing up her phone — she needs rest. We'll reschedule." I bite down on my lip so hard I almost taste blood. "That's the seventh time you've rescheduled, Ethan." "So what? It's not like City Hall's going anywhere!" I just stand there. Face blank. Heart in pieces. The clerk behind the counter gives me this look — half pity, half secondhand embarrassment — and asks if I still want to go through with it. I nod. "Yes." And then I call my best friend's brother. ***** After I hang up, I tell the clerk I need a few more minutes. I'm still staring at the floor when Nathan walks in. He pulls up on a Harley, rips off his helmet, and strolls through the doors like he owns the place. Every head in the waiting area turns. He drops into the chair next to me, legs stretched out, arms crossed, grinning like this is the funniest thing that's ever happened to him. "So. You finally came around? Ready to do the fake marriage thing to get my parents off my back?" I nod quietly. But this isn't about him. It's about Grandpa. Six months ago, Grandpa's health fell off a cliff. He's been in the hospital ever since, and every single time I visit, he says the same thing — he wants to see me get married. He wants to see me in a wedding dress. He says if he knows someone's taking care of me, he can go in peace. So six months ago, I started pushing Ethan to just sign the damn papers already. Seven trips to City Hall. Seven times I sat in that waiting room. And all seven times, Chloe had some emergency that sent Ethan running. Once it was cramps — he had to rush home and play nurse. Once she locked herself out — he had to go let her in. Once she was craving food from some place across town — and he just had to go stand in line for her. Seven times. Every single one because of Chloe. Every single time, he dropped me without thinking twice. The joke is, I gave him seven chances. And he couldn't even stay long enough to take one photo. Honestly? This time, I'm not even that hurt. Maybe I'm numb. Maybe I saw it coming. But standing here, all I can think about is what Grandpa said to me last week, his hand shaking on mine. "Iris, sweetheart… I don't think I have much time left. I probably won't get to see you in that dress. But promise me — even when you're on your own, you'll be brave. Don't let anyone push you around." I promised him I'd be brave. So this time, I'm done backing down. Ethan, I gave you your chances. Seven of them. Now you're out. Signing the papers with Nathan goes smooth. No drama, no phone calls, no running off. We're about to take the photo when my phone buzzes. Ethan. "Okay okay babe don't be mad. I really couldn't get away this time. But I made all your favorites for dinner! Hurry home~" Nathan glances at my screen, raises an eyebrow, and smirks. "Your boyfriend wants you back. Still wanna do this?" I take a breath. Face straight. "Yes." We finish the paperwork. I walk out of City Hall with a marriage certificate in my hand. Right before we part ways, I turn to Nathan. "Are you free tomorrow? There's something I need you to help me with." Nathan swings one long leg over his Harley and pulls on his helmet. "Hit me up. I might need you to return the favor soon — my parents are gonna want proof too." And just like that, he's gone. I stand there for a second, letting it sink in. Seven years with Ethan. Four years of college, three years after. And it all just… ended. In a waiting room at City Hall. Meanwhile, I've met Nathan exactly once before today — and now we're married. On my way home, another text from Ethan pops up. This time with a photo — the dining table covered in dishes. "Where are you?? Food's ready. If you're not home soon, it's gonna be gone!" $#{2|Not Even Leftovers}$# He really wasn't kidding. I walk in the door and the dining table looks like a war zone. Empty plates, dirty bowls, chopstick wrappers everywhere. Chloe's sitting right there, doing her whole helpless-little-flower act, blinking up at me with those fake sorry eyes. "I'm so sorry, Iris. I was just so hungry, I couldn't wait." I don't care how slow I am — even I can tell she's messing with me on purpose. My blood goes cold. I clench my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms. Chloe and Ethan go way back. Childhood best friends. So in his head, she's always been priority number one. The thing is, the first few years with Ethan were good. Really good. We barely fought, and when we did, he was always the one to cave first. He'd take the blame even when it wasn't his fault. Even Luna used to say she was jealous I landed a guy who treated me like that. But that all stopped six months ago. The second Chloe showed up, he turned into a different person. "Iris, why are you just getting home now? Didn't I tell you to come back early?" Ethan walks out of the kitchen, frowning the second he sees me. He's so used to me dropping everything the minute he texts. "Something came up on the way. Got held up." "What could possibly be more important than dinner?" His voice is flat, but there's an edge to it. Like I owe him an explanation. I'm not about to tell him I just got married. If I've already decided to leave, then starting right now, Ethan is nobody to me. Truth is, I'm only here for my stuff. "It's nothing. Work's sending me on a business trip. I came back to pack." I don't wait for a reaction. I head straight for the bedroom. But when I open the door, I freeze. The bed I made this morning is trashed. The closet's been torn apart — clothes pulled off hangers, drawers hanging open. All of that, I could deal with. But on the nightstand, Grandpa's handmade model building — the one he spent weeks piecing together for me — is snapped in half. Tiny fragments scattered all over the floor, glinting under the light. I lose it. "Who was in this room? Who touched my stuff?!" Ethan walks in behind me. He frowns for maybe half a second, then shrugs it off like it's nothing. "It's just a craft project. I'll get someone to fix it." I stare at him. That tone. That "who cares" voice. Like I don't matter. Like nothing about me matters. And just like that, I know exactly who did it. Because there's only one person Ethan would cover for like this. "It was Chloe, wasn't it." It's not even a question. But the words hit Ethan like a match to gasoline. He's in my face in a second, jaw tight, eyes blazing. "You got any proof it was her? Maybe it just fell over on its own!" "Don't you dare throw accusations around, Iris. That's slander. I'll drag you to court if I have to!" I'm biting the inside of my cheek so hard I can taste blood pooling in my mouth. He's really going to bat for her like this. I say one sentence and suddenly I'm the villain. Six months ago, this man would've torn the world apart for me. I remember the night I got in a car accident — he didn't even grab an umbrella, just sprinted through the rain to get to me. He screamed at the other driver in the middle of the street, threw punches, didn't care who was watching. That man would've done anything for me. So what the hell happened? $#{3|The Slap}$# I don't push it. Like Ethan said — I don't have proof. So I just crouch down and start picking up the pieces, carefully gathering the two broken halves of Grandpa's model. Then Chloe's voice drifts in from the doorway. Soft. Wounded. Oscar-worthy. She limps into the room like she can barely walk. "Ethan, please don't fight with Iris because of me." "I know it wasn't me, but if she needs someone to blame, she can blame me. Nobody's ever liked me anyway. It's fine if Iris doesn't like me either." Then — and I swear she does this on purpose — she hobbles over, crouches down right in front of me, and plants her foot directly on one of the fragments. Grinds it into the floor with a slow twist. And in a voice so low only I can hear it: "Yeah, it was me. So what?" Something snaps inside me. I shove her. Except I don't even touch her — she throws herself backward like she's been hit by a truck. Her bandaged foot slams into the nightstand with surgical precision. And then come the waterworks. "Iris, I was just trying to help…" Before I can even process what just happened, Ethan grabs me by the hair. I've never seen him like this. His face is twisted, eyes burning with pure rage, like he wants to kill me. "Even if you don't like her, you didn't have to hurt her! She's already injured!" He's got my hair in his fist, yanking my head back. I have no choice but to stare up at both of them. A bitter taste crawls up from the back of my throat and spreads across my tongue. My heart feels like it's been stabbed a hundred times. "Are you blind? I didn't even touch her!" Ethan slaps me across the face. The sound cracks through the room. A bright red handprint blooms across my cheek instantly. "You're still lying? I was standing right there, Iris! I saw it with my own eyes!" "First you accuse her, now you push her — I never knew you were this kind of person. You're disgusting!" I can't breathe. I literally can't form words. It doesn't matter what I say. He'll never believe me. Not anymore. He lets go of my hair and looks down at me. Cold. Done. "Nothing to say now, huh? You really are heartless." He looks at me like I'm a disappointment. But me? I feel like I just set down a hundred-pound weight. Whatever tiny thread of feeling I had left for this man — it just dissolved. Gone. Nothing. I stop defending myself. I stop explaining. Chloe, cradled in Ethan's arms like a wounded princess, shoots me one last look. Smug. Victorious. Then she mouths three words so only I can see. I catch every one. "You're a loser." I actually laugh. Fine. You want him? He's yours. "You two deserve each other. A scumbag and a snake — perfect match." Chloe's ankle just got bumped, so Ethan doesn't have time to yell at me. He scoops her up and rushes out to the hospital like she's dying. I pull myself off the floor. In the mirror on the closet door, I see my face — red, swollen, the handprint still crystal clear. You can tell exactly how hard he hit me. I let out a dry laugh and wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth. That slap didn't just break skin. It broke every last fantasy I ever had about him. I take my time. I pack every piece of clothing I own into my suitcase. What I can't carry, I toss in a trash bag and take it to the dumpster. Before I leave, I call a realtor and list the apartment. This place is mine. Grandpa bought it for me with his pension. It was supposed to be my home after I got married. Not anymore. No point keeping it. Something this dirty? I don't want it. $#{4|The Old Man Knows}$# I check into a hotel for the night with my suitcase. From here on out, I'm spending every minute I can with Grandpa. However long he's got left. First thing in the morning, I call Nathan. He sounds half-dead on the phone — clearly still in bed. I have to nag him three times, then call Luna and make her go shake him awake before this man finally drags himself up. On the way to the hospital, Nathan and I get our story straight. Grandpa's already met Ethan. He knows Ethan was supposed to be the one I'm marrying. So if we don't want Grandpa worrying, Nathan has to play the part — no slipping up. But I don't expect what happens next. Nathan doesn't just play the part. He nails it. He and Grandpa hit it off like they've known each other for years. They go from talking about the hard times back in Grandpa's day to AI and self-driving cars. By the time we're getting ready to leave, Grandpa doesn't even want to let him go. He holds my hand, patting the back of it slowly, and says with a little smile: "Iris, sweetheart… this one's good. Way better than that Ethan kid." I cringe a little. The last thing I want is Grandpa finding out I grabbed some random guy and married him on the spot. So I just roll with it. "Grandpa, I think you're mixing people up. That is Ethan." "Girl, I'm old, not stupid. I know a different face when I see one." He sighs. "I just don't know if I'll make it to the wedding…" I pull out the marriage certificate and hand it to him right away. "Grandpa, don't worry — we're already married. The wedding's being planned. You're definitely going to be there." He opens the certificate, holds up his magnifying glass, and reads every single word. Twice. Then he nods, satisfied. "See, I knew it. Not that Ethan boy. It says Nathan Cross right here. Good name." I roll my eyes at him, but I can't help smiling. When I step out of the room, Nathan's waiting in the hallway. And he's not alone. It looks like he's in the middle of some kind of argument. I walk closer and realize it's Ethan — and Chloe's right next to him. I don't know what started it. But then I hear Ethan say something that makes my throat close up. "My girlfriend made a mistake, fine. I'll apologize for her. But you're a grown man — bullying a woman like that? Have you got no shame?" My girlfriend. He called Chloe his girlfriend. So what does that make me? A placeholder? Nathan doesn't even flinch. "If someone does something wrong, they own it. If everybody got a free pass just for being a woman, what's the point of having laws?" Ethan and Chloe both go silent. That's when Ethan spots me. Something flickers in his eyes — panic, maybe. But he buries it fast, puts on his usual face, grabs my arm, and starts talking first. "Iris — perfect timing. Chloe accidentally spilled coffee on this guy and now he's saying his jacket costs thousands of dollars. Can you believe that? Total scam." "You know Luna's a lawyer, right? Let's sue him for extortion!" Chloe nods like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Zero remorse. "Exactly. Sue him for extortion AND emotional damages!" Nathan looks at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. I feel my face go hot. "Friend of yours?" I shake my head instantly. "Not anymore." Before Ethan can even blink, I keep going. "That jacket really is worth thousands. And the lawyer you're talking about? She's his sister." I turn around and walk out of the hospital. I have zero interest in being in the same room as Ethan for one more second. Whatever they work out between them — not my problem. Over the next few weeks, Nathan starts putting together a wedding. I figure we'll just throw on some nice clothes, let Grandpa see it over FaceTime, and call it a day. But Nathan says that's "not up to his standards" and insists on doing it big. He books a venue two blocks from Grandpa's hospital — just in case. I know how these old-money families are — everything has to be a production. I can't talk him out of it, so I give up and go along with it. Meanwhile, Ethan's been texting me every day asking when I'm coming back from my "business trip." I think he's starting to notice I've been pulling away. For the first time in seven years, he's the one chasing. He actually picks a date and says he wants to go sign the papers. Too late. Every time he calls, I tell him I'm swamped with work and hang up. The wedding day comes fast. I'm in my dress, standing in the venue, when I hear a voice behind me. Shocked. Shaking. Barely holding it together. "Iris? I thought you were on a business trip. Why are you in a wedding dress?" (Paywall)
"Tomorrow YOU'RE picking Harper up, but don't take her to the wedding. Take her straight to the Harringtons." The night before my wedding, I caught my fiancé talking to his buddy: "Celia's family's broke. Her parents are gonna sell her to some old dude to pay it off." "I can't just sit there and watch her get screwed over. So Harper's taking her spot." His buddy sounded stunned: "Wait—isn't that guy like ninety? Dude, you can't be serious—" "Chill. He's not gonna make it much longer." "When he kicks it, I don't care if Harper's technically a widow. I'll still marry her." I stood there and listened to every word. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just went back to my room and waited for tomorrow. But later, when Trent showed up begging to get back together, I was five months pregnant: "Like you said—game over. No way out." 9 PM. The rehearsal dinner was already running an hour late. Trent finally rolled up with his crew, Celia tagging along behind him. The second she saw me standing at the altar in my dress, the tears started. "Harper, oh my god, I'm so jealous! You get to marry the guy you love. You're so freaking lucky!" "Not like me—my parents are literally selling me off to some ninety-year-old guy just to pay their debts." "But thank god," she dabbed at her eyes, shooting Trent this loaded look, "someone secretly got me a marriage license today. So that old creep can't have me now." Hearing that smug tone, I went completely still. I thought the bride swap was gonna be the worst part. Turns out Trent had already made it legal with her. My best friend Quinn—tomorrow's maid of honor—didn't know the full story yet, but she'd definitely heard about Celia's "legendary bullsh!t." She leaned in and hissed: "What's SHE even doing here?" "And the fake crying? Is she seriously trying to curse your wedding or what?" "It's okay." I patted Quinn's hand. Tomorrow's wedding wasn't happening anyway. This whole thing was just an act—one big performance for tomorrow's bait-and-switch. The officiant looked at me with this awkward smile: "Miss Reid, since the groom's here now, should we go ahead and start the rehearsal?" But Trent's brow furrowed slightly. "It's getting late. Harper's been running around all day—she's gotta be exhausted." "Let's just skip the run-through. You can walk us through it, yeah?" The officiant glanced between him and me, but before he could say anything, Celia's eyes lit up. She practically skipped over to Trent, batting her lashes: "Oh! I know—how about I stand in for Harper?" "That way she won't be tired. What do you think?" Trent didn't even glance my way. "Perfect. Let's do that." "That b!tch—" Quinn started rolling up her sleeves, ready to fight. I caught her arm smoothly. Whispered: "Not yet. I'll explain everything." I pulled her down from the platform into the front row, then nodded at the officiant: "Let's go with what my fiancé said." Quinn was fuming but sat down, teeth clenched. The music started—our song. The one Trent and I had picked when we first got together. "Made for Each Other" When I was twelve, my parents died in a car crash. The shock sent me into hiding—I disappeared into the woods behind our house for three whole days. No food. No water. Trent was the one who found me. He carried my half-dead body home on his back. Then held my bony hand and promised: "Harper, from now on my home is your home. My parents are your parents." "Don't be scared. I'm here. I'll always protect you." So when we fell in love years later, I genuinely believed fate brought us together. That destiny tangled us up. That we were made for each other. Then Celia showed up. And everything started falling apart... Celia was Trent's boss's daughter. For the past two years, Trent kept using the same excuse: "Can't piss off the boss's daughter." So I had to give way to her. Over and over. My work projects—handed to her. My cat—given to her. Clothes and jewelry I loved—all hers. And what'd she do with them? Took my proposals, presented them as her own, got promoted, then stuck me with the nastiest grunt work. Said she'd take care of my cat while I was away, then went on a ten-day vacation and left it to die of dehydration on her balcony. The clothes and jewelry Trent bought me? Once they were in her hands, she'd rip them to shreds, smash them to pieces—anything to make sure they'd never come back to me. And now that same person was linking arms with Trent, walking toward the altar to our song. Be lying if I said it didn't hurt. My heart was already shattered into a million pieces on the floor. I just didn't have the energy to pick them up anymore. Quinn's grip on my hand got tighter and tighter, yanking me back from memory lane. I turned to look at her. Her eyes were red. Mine probably were too. "Quinn, tomorrow... he's NOT marrying me anymore..." "I'm taking Celia's place. Marrying into the Harrington family." Her eyes went huge. Her mouth opened like she was about to say something, but I gently shook my head: "The Morrisons raised me for twelve years. I'm treating this like payback. After this, we're even. Done." Quinn glared viciously at the two people on the altar—holding hands, facing each other, about to say their vows. Then she turned back to me, eyes full of grief: "Harper... is this even worth it?" "I, Trent Morrison, take you, Celia Lawson, to be my lawfully wedded wife." "I will love you, comfort you, honor you, and protect you—" Ha. He said Celia's name. Guess he actually meant every word this time. I forced a small smile at Quinn: "Worth it? Doesn't matter anymore." "As long as I can get away from Trent—completely, finally get away—I'll do anything." "I do! For better or worse, in sickness and in health, from this day forward, till death do us part, I will cherish you forever—Trent Morrison!" The officiant—probably the first time he'd ever seen something like this—just froze, totally blanked on what to do next. Quinn scowled and snapped at him: "Well? Tell the groom to kiss the bride! What're you waiting for?" "I now pronounce you husband and wife. The groom may—" Before he could finish, Trent was already kissing her. Intense. Passionate. Absolutely revolting. The officiant looked over at me, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief: "Um... Miss Reid..." Suddenly Trent je//rked back and spun around. "Harper! Don't get the wrong idea... I just got too into it. I thought it was you..." I smiled faintly. "It's fine." But the second half I only said to myself— You're betraying me. Making me take her place. But as long as we're done for good, I can accept anything. Everything's fine. The rehearsal ended in this thick cloud of awkwardness. Even the officiant let out this huge breath of relief when he left. Outside, Trent opened the passenger door for Celia, even leaning in to buckle her seatbelt himself. Only then did he turn around to say goodbye to me: "Get some good rest tonight. Ethan's picking you up tomorrow." "Okay." I smiled and waved, still playing the clueless bride-to-be excitedly waiting for her big day. Later that night, I tossed and turned, couldn't sleep. Around midnight, Quinn texted me: [I'm home. You absolutely sure you're gonna be okay tomorrow alone? I'm seriously freaking out here.] Quinn wasn't coming to the wedding anymore—I'd told her not to. After the rehearsal, she wanted to come stay with me. But knowing what was coming tomorrow, I really didn't want her getting dragged into this mess. So I kept reassuring her I'd be fine, then watched her get in a cab. Thinking about that, I texted back: [Relax. If anything crazy happens, you're my first call, okay? You BETTER come save me! That's an order, boss!] Half-joking like that finally got her to ease up a bit. [You're such a dum//bass! Fine, I'll wait for your text. Get some sleep, it's late. Night.] [Night.] The next morning, I walked out in my wedding dress. All by myself. Ethan's car was already waiting outside. When he saw me, his expression looked... off. Uncomfortable. I knew he felt guilty. But he was just a loyal guy following orders. Trent's family was Ethan's family's biggest client—basically their entire livelihood. If Ethan didn't do what Trent said, the consequences would be brutal. "Harper, you look gorgeous." "Thanks." I nodded and slid into the backseat. The car started moving. Outside the window, scenery flew backward. After passing two intersections, the car started heading in the opposite direction from the hotel. Ethan kept nervously checking me in the rearview mirror. I pretended not to notice and picked up my phone. Ding. A message came through. From Celia. [Harper! Trent just gave me this amazing present! He said if I wear it to the wedding, I'll look absolutely stunning~ Don't you think it's gorgeous?] I stared at the emerald jade bracelet in the photo, and my whole body went cold. That bracelet was my mom's—the only thing she left me. Passed down from my great-grandmother. Back then I was too young, so Mrs. Morrison had kept it safe for me. They'd promised—sworn—they'd give it back on my wedding day. How could he just hand it over to Celia like that? My hands shaking, I called Trent. "Trent." I steadied myself, voice ice-cold: "How DARE you give my mother's bracelet to Celia? That's MINE!" "Come on, it's just a bracelet." On the other end, Trent sounded totally casual: "Celia liked it, so just let her have it. Whatever bracelet you want, I can buy you later—" "She likes it, so I have to give her everything?!" "The rehearsal. The bracelet. My husband. And now... I have to take her place marrying some old man?!" Trent went silent. Then: "Wait... you already know?" After a brief silence, he tried reasoning with me: "Harper, look, that old Harrington guy is ninety. He can't even function anymore. He's not gonna do anything to you. This whole marriage thing is just for show." "Celia saved my life. She's so young. I can't just stand by and watch her life get destroyed." Saved his life? "Harper, I only got that license with Celia to keep her parents from selling her off to pay their debts." "Once her family's mess blows over, once the old guy dies, I'll bring you home. We can make everything go back to how it was. Trust me, okay?" "I DON'T NEED YOU TO!!" I couldn't hold back the rage anymore. I screamed: "Trent, I want my mother's bracelet back. Give me back what's MINE—" Before I could finish, Trent hung up. Listening to that dead dial tone, my heart hit rock bottom. Right at that moment, a semi-truck ahead suddenly flipped, triggering a massive chain reaction pileup. Ethan was so desperate to get me to the Harringtons, to get this whole thing over with, that he couldn't brake in time. We slammed straight into the car ahead of us. Next second—BANG! Another car crashed into us from behind. Our car was instantly crushed between two vehicles. Because Ethan had instinctively je//rked the steering wheel, his driver's side door wasn't completely mangled. But I was pinned in the backseat, completely unable to move. He jumped out of the car, desperately yanking at the twisted door, but it was useless. BOOM! Another massive explosion—the overturned truck suddenly burst into flames, only three cars away from us. Ethan totally panicked, clutching his head. Run? I was still trapped in the car—a living, breathing person. Stay? The fire was huge, spreading fast. Soon he'd be dead too. "I'LL GO GET HELP!!" Like he'd made some kind of decision, he turned and sprinted toward the back of the pileup. Watching people scatter and run through the window, hearing the ear-piercing screams and crying. I suddenly went... calm. It's okay. As long as I can finally, completely get away from Trent. Everything's okay...
From international arms dealer, to full-time dad.
Ethan ditched me halfway through signing our marriage license. Seventh time. And once again, it was for the girl he grew up with. I call him. No answer. I text him. Nothing. So I end up calling Chloe's phone — because of course that's where he is. And of course, he picks up. "God, Iris, can you stop? Chloe twisted her ankle. I need to take care of her. Stop blowing up her phone — she needs rest. We'll reschedule." I bite down on my lip so hard I almost taste blood. "That's the seventh time you've rescheduled, Ethan." "So what? It's not like City Hall's going anywhere!" I just stand there. Face blank. Heart in pieces. The clerk behind the counter gives me this look — half pity, half secondhand embarrassment — and asks if I still want to go through with it. I nod. "Yes." And then I call my best friend's brother. ***** After I hang up, I tell the clerk I need a few more minutes. I'm still staring at the floor when Nathan walks in. He pulls up on a Harley, rips off his helmet, and strolls through the doors like he owns the place. Every head in the waiting area turns. He drops into the chair next to me, legs stretched out, arms crossed, grinning like this is the funniest thing that's ever happened to him. "So. You finally came around? Ready to do the fake marriage thing to get my parents off my back?" I nod quietly. But this isn't about him. It's about Grandpa. Six months ago, Grandpa's health fell off a cliff. He's been in the hospital ever since, and every single time I visit, he says the same thing — he wants to see me get married. He wants to see me in a wedding dress. He says if he knows someone's taking care of me, he can go in peace. So six months ago, I started pushing Ethan to just sign the damn papers already. Seven trips to City Hall. Seven times I sat in that waiting room. And all seven times, Chloe had some emergency that sent Ethan running. Once it was cramps — he had to rush home and play nurse. Once she locked herself out — he had to go let her in. Once she was craving food from some place across town — and he just had to go stand in line for her. Seven times. Every single one because of Chloe. Every single time, he dropped me without thinking twice. The joke is, I gave him seven chances. And he couldn't even stay long enough to take one photo. Honestly? This time, I'm not even that hurt. Maybe I'm numb. Maybe I saw it coming. But standing here, all I can think about is what Grandpa said to me last week, his hand shaking on mine. "Iris, sweetheart… I don't think I have much time left. I probably won't get to see you in that dress. But promise me — even when you're on your own, you'll be brave. Don't let anyone push you around." I promised him I'd be brave. So this time, I'm done backing down. Ethan, I gave you your chances. Seven of them. Now you're out. Signing the papers with Nathan goes smooth. No drama, no phone calls, no running off. We're about to take the photo when my phone buzzes. Ethan. "Okay okay babe don't be mad. I really couldn't get away this time. But I made all your favorites for dinner! Hurry home~" Nathan glances at my screen, raises an eyebrow, and smirks. "Your boyfriend wants you back. Still wanna do this?" I take a breath. Face straight. "Yes." We finish the paperwork. I walk out of City Hall with a marriage certificate in my hand. Right before we part ways, I turn to Nathan. "Are you free tomorrow? There's something I need you to help me with." Nathan swings one long leg over his Harley and pulls on his helmet. "Hit me up. I might need you to return the favor soon — my parents are gonna want proof too." And just like that, he's gone. I stand there for a second, letting it sink in. Seven years with Ethan. Four years of college, three years after. And it all just… ended. In a waiting room at City Hall. Meanwhile, I've met Nathan exactly once before today — and now we're married. On my way home, another text from Ethan pops up. This time with a photo — the dining table covered in dishes. "Where are you?? Food's ready. If you're not home soon, it's gonna be gone!" $#{2|Not Even Leftovers}$# He really wasn't kidding. I walk in the door and the dining table looks like a war zone. Empty plates, dirty bowls, chopstick wrappers everywhere. Chloe's sitting right there, doing her whole helpless-little-flower act, blinking up at me with those fake sorry eyes. "I'm so sorry, Iris. I was just so hungry, I couldn't wait." I don't care how slow I am — even I can tell she's messing with me on purpose. My blood goes cold. I clench my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms. Chloe and Ethan go way back. Childhood best friends. So in his head, she's always been priority number one. The thing is, the first few years with Ethan were good. Really good. We barely fought, and when we did, he was always the one to cave first. He'd take the blame even when it wasn't his fault. Even Luna used to say she was jealous I landed a guy who treated me like that. But that all stopped six months ago. The second Chloe showed up, he turned into a different person. "Iris, why are you just getting home now? Didn't I tell you to come back early?" Ethan walks out of the kitchen, frowning the second he sees me. He's so used to me dropping everything the minute he texts. "Something came up on the way. Got held up." "What could possibly be more important than dinner?" His voice is flat, but there's an edge to it. Like I owe him an explanation. I'm not about to tell him I just got married. If I've already decided to leave, then starting right now, Ethan is nobody to me. Truth is, I'm only here for my stuff. "It's nothing. Work's sending me on a business trip. I came back to pack." I don't wait for a reaction. I head straight for the bedroom. But when I open the door, I freeze. The bed I made this morning is trashed. The closet's been torn apart — clothes pulled off hangers, drawers hanging open. All of that, I could deal with. But on the nightstand, Grandpa's handmade model building — the one he spent weeks piecing together for me — is snapped in half. Tiny fragments scattered all over the floor, glinting under the light. I lose it. "Who was in this room? Who touched my stuff?!" Ethan walks in behind me. He frowns for maybe half a second, then shrugs it off like it's nothing. "It's just a craft project. I'll get someone to fix it." I stare at him. That tone. That "who cares" voice. Like I don't matter. Like nothing about me matters. And just like that, I know exactly who did it. Because there's only one person Ethan would cover for like this. "It was Chloe, wasn't it." It's not even a question. But the words hit Ethan like a match to gasoline. He's in my face in a second, jaw tight, eyes blazing. "You got any proof it was her? Maybe it just fell over on its own!" "Don't you dare throw accusations around, Iris. That's slander. I'll drag you to court if I have to!" I'm biting the inside of my cheek so hard I can taste blood pooling in my mouth. He's really going to bat for her like this. I say one sentence and suddenly I'm the villain. Six months ago, this man would've torn the world apart for me. I remember the night I got in a car accident — he didn't even grab an umbrella, just sprinted through the rain to get to me. He screamed at the other driver in the middle of the street, threw punches, didn't care who was watching. That man would've done anything for me. So what the hell happened? $#{3|The Slap}$# I don't push it. Like Ethan said — I don't have proof. So I just crouch down and start picking up the pieces, carefully gathering the two broken halves of Grandpa's model. Then Chloe's voice drifts in from the doorway. Soft. Wounded. Oscar-worthy. She limps into the room like she can barely walk. "Ethan, please don't fight with Iris because of me." "I know it wasn't me, but if she needs someone to blame, she can blame me. Nobody's ever liked me anyway. It's fine if Iris doesn't like me either." Then — and I swear she does this on purpose — she hobbles over, crouches down right in front of me, and plants her foot directly on one of the fragments. Grinds it into the floor with a slow twist. And in a voice so low only I can hear it: "Yeah, it was me. So what?" Something snaps inside me. I shove her. Except I don't even touch her — she throws herself backward like she's been hit by a truck. Her bandaged foot slams into the nightstand with surgical precision. And then come the waterworks. "Iris, I was just trying to help…" Before I can even process what just happened, Ethan grabs me by the hair. I've never seen him like this. His face is twisted, eyes burning with pure rage, like he wants to kill me. "Even if you don't like her, you didn't have to hurt her! She's already injured!" He's got my hair in his fist, yanking my head back. I have no choice but to stare up at both of them. A bitter taste crawls up from the back of my throat and spreads across my tongue. My heart feels like it's been stabbed a hundred times. "Are you blind? I didn't even touch her!" Ethan slaps me across the face. The sound cracks through the room. A bright red handprint blooms across my cheek instantly. "You're still lying? I was standing right there, Iris! I saw it with my own eyes!" "First you accuse her, now you push her — I never knew you were this kind of person. You're disgusting!" I can't breathe. I literally can't form words. It doesn't matter what I say. He'll never believe me. Not anymore. He lets go of my hair and looks down at me. Cold. Done. "Nothing to say now, huh? You really are heartless." He looks at me like I'm a disappointment. But me? I feel like I just set down a hundred-pound weight. Whatever tiny thread of feeling I had left for this man — it just dissolved. Gone. Nothing. I stop defending myself. I stop explaining. Chloe, cradled in Ethan's arms like a wounded princess, shoots me one last look. Smug. Victorious. Then she mouths three words so only I can see. I catch every one. "You're a loser." I actually laugh. Fine. You want him? He's yours. "You two deserve each other. A scumbag and a snake — perfect match." Chloe's ankle just got bumped, so Ethan doesn't have time to yell at me. He scoops her up and rushes out to the hospital like she's dying. I pull myself off the floor. In the mirror on the closet door, I see my face — red, swollen, the handprint still crystal clear. You can tell exactly how hard he hit me. I let out a dry laugh and wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth. That slap didn't just break skin. It broke every last fantasy I ever had about him. I take my time. I pack every piece of clothing I own into my suitcase. What I can't carry, I toss in a trash bag and take it to the dumpster. Before I leave, I call a realtor and list the apartment. This place is mine. Grandpa bought it for me with his pension. It was supposed to be my home after I got married. Not anymore. No point keeping it. Something this dirty? I don't want it. $#{4|The Old Man Knows}$# I check into a hotel for the night with my suitcase. From here on out, I'm spending every minute I can with Grandpa. However long he's got left. First thing in the morning, I call Nathan. He sounds half-dead on the phone — clearly still in bed. I have to nag him three times, then call Luna and make her go shake him awake before this man finally drags himself up. On the way to the hospital, Nathan and I get our story straight. Grandpa's already met Ethan. He knows Ethan was supposed to be the one I'm marrying. So if we don't want Grandpa worrying, Nathan has to play the part — no slipping up. But I don't expect what happens next. Nathan doesn't just play the part. He nails it. He and Grandpa hit it off like they've known each other for years. They go from talking about the hard times back in Grandpa's day to AI and self-driving cars. By the time we're getting ready to leave, Grandpa doesn't even want to let him go. He holds my hand, patting the back of it slowly, and says with a little smile: "Iris, sweetheart… this one's good. Way better than that Ethan kid." I cringe a little. The last thing I want is Grandpa finding out I grabbed some random guy and married him on the spot. So I just roll with it. "Grandpa, I think you're mixing people up. That is Ethan." "Girl, I'm old, not stupid. I know a different face when I see one." He sighs. "I just don't know if I'll make it to the wedding…" I pull out the marriage certificate and hand it to him right away. "Grandpa, don't worry — we're already married. The wedding's being planned. You're definitely going to be there." He opens the certificate, holds up his magnifying glass, and reads every single word. Twice. Then he nods, satisfied. "See, I knew it. Not that Ethan boy. It says Nathan Cross right here. Good name." I roll my eyes at him, but I can't help smiling. When I step out of the room, Nathan's waiting in the hallway. And he's not alone. It looks like he's in the middle of some kind of argument. I walk closer and realize it's Ethan — and Chloe's right next to him. I don't know what started it. But then I hear Ethan say something that makes my throat close up. "My girlfriend made a mistake, fine. I'll apologize for her. But you're a grown man — bullying a woman like that? Have you got no shame?" My girlfriend. He called Chloe his girlfriend. So what does that make me? A placeholder? Nathan doesn't even flinch. "If someone does something wrong, they own it. If everybody got a free pass just for being a woman, what's the point of having laws?" Ethan and Chloe both go silent. That's when Ethan spots me. Something flickers in his eyes — panic, maybe. But he buries it fast, puts on his usual face, grabs my arm, and starts talking first. "Iris — perfect timing. Chloe accidentally spilled coffee on this guy and now he's saying his jacket costs thousands of dollars. Can you believe that? Total scam." "You know Luna's a lawyer, right? Let's sue him for extortion!" Chloe nods like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Zero remorse. "Exactly. Sue him for extortion AND emotional damages!" Nathan looks at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. I feel my face go hot. "Friend of yours?" I shake my head instantly. "Not anymore." Before Ethan can even blink, I keep going. "That jacket really is worth thousands. And the lawyer you're talking about? She's his sister." I turn around and walk out of the hospital. I have zero interest in being in the same room as Ethan for one more second. Whatever they work out between them — not my problem. Over the next few weeks, Nathan starts putting together a wedding. I figure we'll just throw on some nice clothes, let Grandpa see it over FaceTime, and call it a day. But Nathan says that's "not up to his standards" and insists on doing it big. He books a venue two blocks from Grandpa's hospital — just in case. I know how these old-money families are — everything has to be a production. I can't talk him out of it, so I give up and go along with it. Meanwhile, Ethan's been texting me every day asking when I'm coming back from my "business trip." I think he's starting to notice I've been pulling away. For the first time in seven years, he's the one chasing. He actually picks a date and says he wants to go sign the papers. Too late. Every time he calls, I tell him I'm swamped with work and hang up. The wedding day comes fast. I'm in my dress, standing in the venue, when I hear a voice behind me. Shocked. Shaking. Barely holding it together. "Iris? I thought you were on a business trip. Why are you in a wedding dress?" (Paywall)
"Tomorrow YOU'RE picking Harper up, but don't take her to the wedding. Take her straight to the Harringtons." The night before my wedding, I caught my fiancé talking to his buddy: "Celia's family's broke. Her parents are gonna sell her to some old dude to pay it off." "I can't just sit there and watch her get screwed over. So Harper's taking her spot." His buddy sounded stunned: "Wait—isn't that guy like ninety? Dude, you can't be serious—" "Chill. He's not gonna make it much longer." "When he kicks it, I don't care if Harper's technically a widow. I'll still marry her." I stood there and listened to every word. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just went back to my room and waited for tomorrow. But later, when Trent showed up begging to get back together, I was five months pregnant: "Like you said—game over. No way out." 9 PM. The rehearsal dinner was already running an hour late. Trent finally rolled up with his crew, Celia tagging along behind him. The second she saw me standing at the altar in my dress, the tears started. "Harper, oh my god, I'm so jealous! You get to marry the guy you love. You're so freaking lucky!" "Not like me—my parents are literally selling me off to some ninety-year-old guy just to pay their debts." "But thank god," she dabbed at her eyes, shooting Trent this loaded look, "someone secretly got me a marriage license today. So that old creep can't have me now." Hearing that smug tone, I went completely still. I thought the bride swap was gonna be the worst part. Turns out Trent had already made it legal with her. My best friend Quinn—tomorrow's maid of honor—didn't know the full story yet, but she'd definitely heard about Celia's "legendary bullsh!t." She leaned in and hissed: "What's SHE even doing here?" "And the fake crying? Is she seriously trying to curse your wedding or what?" "It's okay." I patted Quinn's hand. Tomorrow's wedding wasn't happening anyway. This whole thing was just an act—one big performance for tomorrow's bait-and-switch. The officiant looked at me with this awkward smile: "Miss Reid, since the groom's here now, should we go ahead and start the rehearsal?" But Trent's brow furrowed slightly. "It's getting late. Harper's been running around all day—she's gotta be exhausted." "Let's just skip the run-through. You can walk us through it, yeah?" The officiant glanced between him and me, but before he could say anything, Celia's eyes lit up. She practically skipped over to Trent, batting her lashes: "Oh! I know—how about I stand in for Harper?" "That way she won't be tired. What do you think?" Trent didn't even glance my way. "Perfect. Let's do that." "That b!tch—" Quinn started rolling up her sleeves, ready to fight. I caught her arm smoothly. Whispered: "Not yet. I'll explain everything." I pulled her down from the platform into the front row, then nodded at the officiant: "Let's go with what my fiancé said." Quinn was fuming but sat down, teeth clenched. The music started—our song. The one Trent and I had picked when we first got together. "Made for Each Other" When I was twelve, my parents died in a car crash. The shock sent me into hiding—I disappeared into the woods behind our house for three whole days. No food. No water. Trent was the one who found me. He carried my half-dead body home on his back. Then held my bony hand and promised: "Harper, from now on my home is your home. My parents are your parents." "Don't be scared. I'm here. I'll always protect you." So when we fell in love years later, I genuinely believed fate brought us together. That destiny tangled us up. That we were made for each other. Then Celia showed up. And everything started falling apart... Celia was Trent's boss's daughter. For the past two years, Trent kept using the same excuse: "Can't piss off the boss's daughter." So I had to give way to her. Over and over. My work projects—handed to her. My cat—given to her. Clothes and jewelry I loved—all hers. And what'd she do with them? Took my proposals, presented them as her own, got promoted, then stuck me with the nastiest grunt work. Said she'd take care of my cat while I was away, then went on a ten-day vacation and left it to die of dehydration on her balcony. The clothes and jewelry Trent bought me? Once they were in her hands, she'd rip them to shreds, smash them to pieces—anything to make sure they'd never come back to me. And now that same person was linking arms with Trent, walking toward the altar to our song. Be lying if I said it didn't hurt. My heart was already shattered into a million pieces on the floor. I just didn't have the energy to pick them up anymore. Quinn's grip on my hand got tighter and tighter, yanking me back from memory lane. I turned to look at her. Her eyes were red. Mine probably were too. "Quinn, tomorrow... he's NOT marrying me anymore..." "I'm taking Celia's place. Marrying into the Harrington family." Her eyes went huge. Her mouth opened like she was about to say something, but I gently shook my head: "The Morrisons raised me for twelve years. I'm treating this like payback. After this, we're even. Done." Quinn glared viciously at the two people on the altar—holding hands, facing each other, about to say their vows. Then she turned back to me, eyes full of grief: "Harper... is this even worth it?" "I, Trent Morrison, take you, Celia Lawson, to be my lawfully wedded wife." "I will love you, comfort you, honor you, and protect you—" Ha. He said Celia's name. Guess he actually meant every word this time. I forced a small smile at Quinn: "Worth it? Doesn't matter anymore." "As long as I can get away from Trent—completely, finally get away—I'll do anything." "I do! For better or worse, in sickness and in health, from this day forward, till death do us part, I will cherish you forever—Trent Morrison!" The officiant—probably the first time he'd ever seen something like this—just froze, totally blanked on what to do next. Quinn scowled and snapped at him: "Well? Tell the groom to kiss the bride! What're you waiting for?" "I now pronounce you husband and wife. The groom may—" Before he could finish, Trent was already kissing her. Intense. Passionate. Absolutely revolting. The officiant looked over at me, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief: "Um... Miss Reid..." Suddenly Trent je//rked back and spun around. "Harper! Don't get the wrong idea... I just got too into it. I thought it was you..." I smiled faintly. "It's fine." But the second half I only said to myself— You're betraying me. Making me take her place. But as long as we're done for good, I can accept anything. Everything's fine. The rehearsal ended in this thick cloud of awkwardness. Even the officiant let out this huge breath of relief when he left. Outside, Trent opened the passenger door for Celia, even leaning in to buckle her seatbelt himself. Only then did he turn around to say goodbye to me: "Get some good rest tonight. Ethan's picking you up tomorrow." "Okay." I smiled and waved, still playing the clueless bride-to-be excitedly waiting for her big day. Later that night, I tossed and turned, couldn't sleep. Around midnight, Quinn texted me: [I'm home. You absolutely sure you're gonna be okay tomorrow alone? I'm seriously freaking out here.] Quinn wasn't coming to the wedding anymore—I'd told her not to. After the rehearsal, she wanted to come stay with me. But knowing what was coming tomorrow, I really didn't want her getting dragged into this mess. So I kept reassuring her I'd be fine, then watched her get in a cab. Thinking about that, I texted back: [Relax. If anything crazy happens, you're my first call, okay? You BETTER come save me! That's an order, boss!] Half-joking like that finally got her to ease up a bit. [You're such a dum//bass! Fine, I'll wait for your text. Get some sleep, it's late. Night.] [Night.] The next morning, I walked out in my wedding dress. All by myself. Ethan's car was already waiting outside. When he saw me, his expression looked... off. Uncomfortable. I knew he felt guilty. But he was just a loyal guy following orders. Trent's family was Ethan's family's biggest client—basically their entire livelihood. If Ethan didn't do what Trent said, the consequences would be brutal. "Harper, you look gorgeous." "Thanks." I nodded and slid into the backseat. The car started moving. Outside the window, scenery flew backward. After passing two intersections, the car started heading in the opposite direction from the hotel. Ethan kept nervously checking me in the rearview mirror. I pretended not to notice and picked up my phone. Ding. A message came through. From Celia. [Harper! Trent just gave me this amazing present! He said if I wear it to the wedding, I'll look absolutely stunning~ Don't you think it's gorgeous?] I stared at the emerald jade bracelet in the photo, and my whole body went cold. That bracelet was my mom's—the only thing she left me. Passed down from my great-grandmother. Back then I was too young, so Mrs. Morrison had kept it safe for me. They'd promised—sworn—they'd give it back on my wedding day. How could he just hand it over to Celia like that? My hands shaking, I called Trent. "Trent." I steadied myself, voice ice-cold: "How DARE you give my mother's bracelet to Celia? That's MINE!" "Come on, it's just a bracelet." On the other end, Trent sounded totally casual: "Celia liked it, so just let her have it. Whatever bracelet you want, I can buy you later—" "She likes it, so I have to give her everything?!" "The rehearsal. The bracelet. My husband. And now... I have to take her place marrying some old man?!" Trent went silent. Then: "Wait... you already know?" After a brief silence, he tried reasoning with me: "Harper, look, that old Harrington guy is ninety. He can't even function anymore. He's not gonna do anything to you. This whole marriage thing is just for show." "Celia saved my life. She's so young. I can't just stand by and watch her life get destroyed." Saved his life? "Harper, I only got that license with Celia to keep her parents from selling her off to pay their debts." "Once her family's mess blows over, once the old guy dies, I'll bring you home. We can make everything go back to how it was. Trust me, okay?" "I DON'T NEED YOU TO!!" I couldn't hold back the rage anymore. I screamed: "Trent, I want my mother's bracelet back. Give me back what's MINE—" Before I could finish, Trent hung up. Listening to that dead dial tone, my heart hit rock bottom. Right at that moment, a semi-truck ahead suddenly flipped, triggering a massive chain reaction pileup. Ethan was so desperate to get me to the Harringtons, to get this whole thing over with, that he couldn't brake in time. We slammed straight into the car ahead of us. Next second—BANG! Another car crashed into us from behind. Our car was instantly crushed between two vehicles. Because Ethan had instinctively je//rked the steering wheel, his driver's side door wasn't completely mangled. But I was pinned in the backseat, completely unable to move. He jumped out of the car, desperately yanking at the twisted door, but it was useless. BOOM! Another massive explosion—the overturned truck suddenly burst into flames, only three cars away from us. Ethan totally panicked, clutching his head. Run? I was still trapped in the car—a living, breathing person. Stay? The fire was huge, spreading fast. Soon he'd be dead too. "I'LL GO GET HELP!!" Like he'd made some kind of decision, he turned and sprinted toward the back of the pileup. Watching people scatter and run through the window, hearing the ear-piercing screams and crying. I suddenly went... calm. It's okay. As long as I can finally, completely get away from Trent. Everything's okay...
Ethan ditched me halfway through signing our marriage license. Seventh time. And once again, it was for the girl he grew up with. I call him. No answer. I text him. Nothing. So I end up calling Chloe's phone — because of course that's where he is. And of course, he picks up. "God, Iris, can you stop? Chloe twisted her ankle. I need to take care of her. Stop blowing up her phone — she needs rest. We'll reschedule." I bite down on my lip so hard I almost taste blood. "That's the seventh time you've rescheduled, Ethan." "So what? It's not like City Hall's going anywhere!" I just stand there. Face blank. Heart in pieces. The clerk behind the counter gives me this look — half pity, half secondhand embarrassment — and asks if I still want to go through with it. I nod. "Yes." And then I call my best friend's brother. ***** After I hang up, I tell the clerk I need a few more minutes. I'm still staring at the floor when Nathan walks in. He pulls up on a Harley, rips off his helmet, and strolls through the doors like he owns the place. Every head in the waiting area turns. He drops into the chair next to me, legs stretched out, arms crossed, grinning like this is the funniest thing that's ever happened to him. "So. You finally came around? Ready to do the fake marriage thing to get my parents off my back?" I nod quietly. But this isn't about him. It's about Grandpa. Six months ago, Grandpa's health fell off a cliff. He's been in the hospital ever since, and every single time I visit, he says the same thing — he wants to see me get married. He wants to see me in a wedding dress. He says if he knows someone's taking care of me, he can go in peace. So six months ago, I started pushing Ethan to just sign the damn papers already. Seven trips to City Hall. Seven times I sat in that waiting room. And all seven times, Chloe had some emergency that sent Ethan running. Once it was cramps — he had to rush home and play nurse. Once she locked herself out — he had to go let her in. Once she was craving food from some place across town — and he just had to go stand in line for her. Seven times. Every single one because of Chloe. Every single time, he dropped me without thinking twice. The joke is, I gave him seven chances. And he couldn't even stay long enough to take one photo. Honestly? This time, I'm not even that hurt. Maybe I'm numb. Maybe I saw it coming. But standing here, all I can think about is what Grandpa said to me last week, his hand shaking on mine. "Iris, sweetheart… I don't think I have much time left. I probably won't get to see you in that dress. But promise me — even when you're on your own, you'll be brave. Don't let anyone push you around." I promised him I'd be brave. So this time, I'm done backing down. Ethan, I gave you your chances. Seven of them. Now you're out. Signing the papers with Nathan goes smooth. No drama, no phone calls, no running off. We're about to take the photo when my phone buzzes. Ethan. "Okay okay babe don't be mad. I really couldn't get away this time. But I made all your favorites for dinner! Hurry home~" Nathan glances at my screen, raises an eyebrow, and smirks. "Your boyfriend wants you back. Still wanna do this?" I take a breath. Face straight. "Yes." We finish the paperwork. I walk out of City Hall with a marriage certificate in my hand. Right before we part ways, I turn to Nathan. "Are you free tomorrow? There's something I need you to help me with." Nathan swings one long leg over his Harley and pulls on his helmet. "Hit me up. I might need you to return the favor soon — my parents are gonna want proof too." And just like that, he's gone. I stand there for a second, letting it sink in. Seven years with Ethan. Four years of college, three years after. And it all just… ended. In a waiting room at City Hall. Meanwhile, I've met Nathan exactly once before today — and now we're married. On my way home, another text from Ethan pops up. This time with a photo — the dining table covered in dishes. "Where are you?? Food's ready. If you're not home soon, it's gonna be gone!" $#{2|Not Even Leftovers}$# He really wasn't kidding. I walk in the door and the dining table looks like a war zone. Empty plates, dirty bowls, chopstick wrappers everywhere. Chloe's sitting right there, doing her whole helpless-little-flower act, blinking up at me with those fake sorry eyes. "I'm so sorry, Iris. I was just so hungry, I couldn't wait." I don't care how slow I am — even I can tell she's messing with me on purpose. My blood goes cold. I clench my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms. Chloe and Ethan go way back. Childhood best friends. So in his head, she's always been priority number one. The thing is, the first few years with Ethan were good. Really good. We barely fought, and when we did, he was always the one to cave first. He'd take the blame even when it wasn't his fault. Even Luna used to say she was jealous I landed a guy who treated me like that. But that all stopped six months ago. The second Chloe showed up, he turned into a different person. "Iris, why are you just getting home now? Didn't I tell you to come back early?" Ethan walks out of the kitchen, frowning the second he sees me. He's so used to me dropping everything the minute he texts. "Something came up on the way. Got held up." "What could possibly be more important than dinner?" His voice is flat, but there's an edge to it. Like I owe him an explanation. I'm not about to tell him I just got married. If I've already decided to leave, then starting right now, Ethan is nobody to me. Truth is, I'm only here for my stuff. "It's nothing. Work's sending me on a business trip. I came back to pack." I don't wait for a reaction. I head straight for the bedroom. But when I open the door, I freeze. The bed I made this morning is trashed. The closet's been torn apart — clothes pulled off hangers, drawers hanging open. All of that, I could deal with. But on the nightstand, Grandpa's handmade model building — the one he spent weeks piecing together for me — is snapped in half. Tiny fragments scattered all over the floor, glinting under the light. I lose it. "Who was in this room? Who touched my stuff?!" Ethan walks in behind me. He frowns for maybe half a second, then shrugs it off like it's nothing. "It's just a craft project. I'll get someone to fix it." I stare at him. That tone. That "who cares" voice. Like I don't matter. Like nothing about me matters. And just like that, I know exactly who did it. Because there's only one person Ethan would cover for like this. "It was Chloe, wasn't it." It's not even a question. But the words hit Ethan like a match to gasoline. He's in my face in a second, jaw tight, eyes blazing. "You got any proof it was her? Maybe it just fell over on its own!" "Don't you dare throw accusations around, Iris. That's slander. I'll drag you to court if I have to!" I'm biting the inside of my cheek so hard I can taste blood pooling in my mouth. He's really going to bat for her like this. I say one sentence and suddenly I'm the villain. Six months ago, this man would've torn the world apart for me. I remember the night I got in a car accident — he didn't even grab an umbrella, just sprinted through the rain to get to me. He screamed at the other driver in the middle of the street, threw punches, didn't care who was watching. That man would've done anything for me. So what the hell happened? $#{3|The Slap}$# I don't push it. Like Ethan said — I don't have proof. So I just crouch down and start picking up the pieces, carefully gathering the two broken halves of Grandpa's model. Then Chloe's voice drifts in from the doorway. Soft. Wounded. Oscar-worthy. She limps into the room like she can barely walk. "Ethan, please don't fight with Iris because of me." "I know it wasn't me, but if she needs someone to blame, she can blame me. Nobody's ever liked me anyway. It's fine if Iris doesn't like me either." Then — and I swear she does this on purpose — she hobbles over, crouches down right in front of me, and plants her foot directly on one of the fragments. Grinds it into the floor with a slow twist. And in a voice so low only I can hear it: "Yeah, it was me. So what?" Something snaps inside me. I shove her. Except I don't even touch her — she throws herself backward like she's been hit by a truck. Her bandaged foot slams into the nightstand with surgical precision. And then come the waterworks. "Iris, I was just trying to help…" Before I can even process what just happened, Ethan grabs me by the hair. I've never seen him like this. His face is twisted, eyes burning with pure rage, like he wants to kill me. "Even if you don't like her, you didn't have to hurt her! She's already injured!" He's got my hair in his fist, yanking my head back. I have no choice but to stare up at both of them. A bitter taste crawls up from the back of my throat and spreads across my tongue. My heart feels like it's been stabbed a hundred times. "Are you blind? I didn't even touch her!" Ethan slaps me across the face. The sound cracks through the room. A bright red handprint blooms across my cheek instantly. "You're still lying? I was standing right there, Iris! I saw it with my own eyes!" "First you accuse her, now you push her — I never knew you were this kind of person. You're disgusting!" I can't breathe. I literally can't form words. It doesn't matter what I say. He'll never believe me. Not anymore. He lets go of my hair and looks down at me. Cold. Done. "Nothing to say now, huh? You really are heartless." He looks at me like I'm a disappointment. But me? I feel like I just set down a hundred-pound weight. Whatever tiny thread of feeling I had left for this man — it just dissolved. Gone. Nothing. I stop defending myself. I stop explaining. Chloe, cradled in Ethan's arms like a wounded princess, shoots me one last look. Smug. Victorious. Then she mouths three words so only I can see. I catch every one. "You're a loser." I actually laugh. Fine. You want him? He's yours. "You two deserve each other. A scumbag and a snake — perfect match." Chloe's ankle just got bumped, so Ethan doesn't have time to yell at me. He scoops her up and rushes out to the hospital like she's dying. I pull myself off the floor. In the mirror on the closet door, I see my face — red, swollen, the handprint still crystal clear. You can tell exactly how hard he hit me. I let out a dry laugh and wipe the blood from the corner of my mouth. That slap didn't just break skin. It broke every last fantasy I ever had about him. I take my time. I pack every piece of clothing I own into my suitcase. What I can't carry, I toss in a trash bag and take it to the dumpster. Before I leave, I call a realtor and list the apartment. This place is mine. Grandpa bought it for me with his pension. It was supposed to be my home after I got married. Not anymore. No point keeping it. Something this dirty? I don't want it. $#{4|The Old Man Knows}$# I check into a hotel for the night with my suitcase. From here on out, I'm spending every minute I can with Grandpa. However long he's got left. First thing in the morning, I call Nathan. He sounds half-dead on the phone — clearly still in bed. I have to nag him three times, then call Luna and make her go shake him awake before this man finally drags himself up. On the way to the hospital, Nathan and I get our story straight. Grandpa's already met Ethan. He knows Ethan was supposed to be the one I'm marrying. So if we don't want Grandpa worrying, Nathan has to play the part — no slipping up. But I don't expect what happens next. Nathan doesn't just play the part. He nails it. He and Grandpa hit it off like they've known each other for years. They go from talking about the hard times back in Grandpa's day to AI and self-driving cars. By the time we're getting ready to leave, Grandpa doesn't even want to let him go. He holds my hand, patting the back of it slowly, and says with a little smile: "Iris, sweetheart… this one's good. Way better than that Ethan kid." I cringe a little. The last thing I want is Grandpa finding out I grabbed some random guy and married him on the spot. So I just roll with it. "Grandpa, I think you're mixing people up. That is Ethan." "Girl, I'm old, not stupid. I know a different face when I see one." He sighs. "I just don't know if I'll make it to the wedding…" I pull out the marriage certificate and hand it to him right away. "Grandpa, don't worry — we're already married. The wedding's being planned. You're definitely going to be there." He opens the certificate, holds up his magnifying glass, and reads every single word. Twice. Then he nods, satisfied. "See, I knew it. Not that Ethan boy. It says Nathan Cross right here. Good name." I roll my eyes at him, but I can't help smiling. When I step out of the room, Nathan's waiting in the hallway. And he's not alone. It looks like he's in the middle of some kind of argument. I walk closer and realize it's Ethan — and Chloe's right next to him. I don't know what started it. But then I hear Ethan say something that makes my throat close up. "My girlfriend made a mistake, fine. I'll apologize for her. But you're a grown man — bullying a woman like that? Have you got no shame?" My girlfriend. He called Chloe his girlfriend. So what does that make me? A placeholder? Nathan doesn't even flinch. "If someone does something wrong, they own it. If everybody got a free pass just for being a woman, what's the point of having laws?" Ethan and Chloe both go silent. That's when Ethan spots me. Something flickers in his eyes — panic, maybe. But he buries it fast, puts on his usual face, grabs my arm, and starts talking first. "Iris — perfect timing. Chloe accidentally spilled coffee on this guy and now he's saying his jacket costs thousands of dollars. Can you believe that? Total scam." "You know Luna's a lawyer, right? Let's sue him for extortion!" Chloe nods like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Zero remorse. "Exactly. Sue him for extortion AND emotional damages!" Nathan looks at me, the corner of his mouth twitching. I feel my face go hot. "Friend of yours?" I shake my head instantly. "Not anymore." Before Ethan can even blink, I keep going. "That jacket really is worth thousands. And the lawyer you're talking about? She's his sister." I turn around and walk out of the hospital. I have zero interest in being in the same room as Ethan for one more second. Whatever they work out between them — not my problem. Over the next few weeks, Nathan starts putting together a wedding. I figure we'll just throw on some nice clothes, let Grandpa see it over FaceTime, and call it a day. But Nathan says that's "not up to his standards" and insists on doing it big. He books a venue two blocks from Grandpa's hospital — just in case. I know how these old-money families are — everything has to be a production. I can't talk him out of it, so I give up and go along with it. Meanwhile, Ethan's been texting me every day asking when I'm coming back from my "business trip." I think he's starting to notice I've been pulling away. For the first time in seven years, he's the one chasing. He actually picks a date and says he wants to go sign the papers. Too late. Every time he calls, I tell him I'm swamped with work and hang up. The wedding day comes fast. I'm in my dress, standing in the venue, when I hear a voice behind me. Shocked. Shaking. Barely holding it together. "Iris? I thought you were on a business trip. Why are you in a wedding dress?" (Paywall)
Snow was falling on the already covered ground as Carissa Young hurried to her car. She and her boyfriend, Kyle Mathers, had been invited to the big holiday bash held by businessman John Evans. His daughter, Hailey, had been one of Carissa’s best friends growing up and had quickly become friends with Kyle. That invitation meant Carissa had to find an appropriate dress for the occasion, which she found far more difficult than she had expected. Carissa was a kindergarten teacher. She shopped mostly at second-hand stores and thrift shops, both to cut costs and make her meager paycheck stretch, and she could not see paying a lot for clothing that would soon be ruined. Her wardrobe consisted of fun and functional pieces that were covered in paint stains and well-worn. She did not own a single thing that would have worked for any holiday party, much less one of the caliber of the celebrations Mr. Evans always held. She hurried to her car, got in, and started it. The heater hit Carissa in the face at full blast with cold air, making her even more frustrated than she had been. She hated shopping, and there was only one store left in town before she was officially out of options that she could afford. Carissa drove to the last shop in town and parked. The store would be closing in thirty minutes. That filled her with dread as she raced inside, slipping in the slush on the sidewalk as she yanked on the door. Carissa stepped in, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights in the store. “May I help you find something?” a young woman wearing a name tag asked as she approached Carissa. “Thank you, Tammy,” Carissa replied, reading the name tag. “I need to find a dress for a fancy holiday party. The problem is, I don’t like flashy things, and the dress must be affordable.” Tammy thought for a minute and smiled, “You know, we have some nice things that are on the sale rack. Our manager moved quite a few of our holiday lines there today. There are several dresses that should work if we have them in your size.” “That sounds perfect,” Carissa said with a sigh of relief. Tammy led the way to the clearance rack and helped Carissa choose a few things to try on. She set up the dressing room and left Carissa to try on the dresses. “Since you are the only customer right now, I’ll stay close. If you need anything, just yell,” Tammy said with a bright smile. “Would you mind giving your opinion?” Carissa asked. “I normally ask my friend to join me, but she had a meeting and wasn’t sure if she could make it, so I am on my own. I teach kindergarten. I wouldn’t know fashion if it walked up and bit my backside.” “Sure thing,” Tammy said with a giggle. “I have been in your place more times than I can count. I can dress a stranger, but when it comes to my own outfits, I always have doubts.” “Thank you,” Carissa breathed as she stepped into the dressing room. After closing the door, Carissa turned to study the dresses that had been chosen. There was a classic, little black sheath dress, a bright red dress with ruching along both sides, a navy blue mini dress covered in sparkles, and a dark green velvet dress with a deep V-neckline and a flared skirt. Carissa hoped the green one would fit; it was her favorite, and although it was less flashy, she could add jewelry and make it pop. "Try the green one first!!" Tammy yelled to her from somewhere in the store. That made Carissa laugh. She made a mental note to come back to this store and shop with Tammy if she needed another dress or anything else for a special occasion. Carissa slipped into the green velvet dress and zipped it up. It fit her like a glove. She was on the tall side, making the dress fall just above her knees. That made the dress a little short, but it was still tasteful. The deep green made the green in her hazel eye pop. Her long brunette curls tumbled down her back, setting off the green. “Tammy?” Carissa called out as she opened the fitting room door. “What do you think? As far as I am concerned, this is the one.” “Oh, wow,” Tammy said as she appraised Carissa in the dress. “Perfect. All you need are the right shoes and jewelry. You might have jewelry tucked away that you can use, but you need s*xy shoes, which I doubt you have.” “All of my shoes are things I can wear to work,” Carissa sighed. “Can you help me find the right ones?” “I would love to,” Tammy said, clasping her hands in front of her as she took in Carissa in the dress. “You need heels, but you are tall enough that you don’t need super high ones. Maybe a cute kitten heel or a mid-height heel. I suggest a basic black. That way, you can wear them with almost anything later on.” Carissa nodded silently as she followed Tammy to the shoe display. Tammy looked at Carissa’s bare feet and chose two styles of shoes for her without asking what size she needed. Tammy turned to face her, holding up one shoe, then the other. She alternated between the two before she handed one to Carissa. “Try this on and then have a look in the mirror over there,” Tammy instructed. Carissa took the shoebox and sat on the bench to slip them on. They were simple black pumps with thin heels. They were higher than a kitten heel, but not as tall as some stilettos that she had seen and even attempted to wear. She didn’t know how Tammy had done it, but the shoes were the perfect size. Carissa smiled as she stood and stepped in front of the mirror. “It’s perfect!” Carissa giggled with excitement. “The dress, the shoes, it's all perfect.” “You are stunning. You should wear that shade of green as often as you can,” Tammy said with a smile. “Do you need anything else?” “This is it,” Carissa grinned as she took a final look in the mirror. “I already know which jewelry I’ll wear with it.” “Slip the shoes off, and I will take them to the front for you while you change,” Tammy said. Carissa gave her the shoes before she hurriedly changed back into her clothing. When she reached the counter, Tammy was waiting with a smile on her face to ring up the dress and shoes. Carissa was happy about that. The snow was picking up, and she was anxious to get home to her boyfriend before the roads got any worse. Moments later, Carissa was stepping onto the sidewalk into the falling snow. She lived only ten minutes away on a good day, but today, she would be lucky if she made it in thirty. - Carissa pulled into the driveway, surprised to find not only her boyfriend Kyle’s truck, but also the SUV belonging to their friend Hailey Evans parked beside it. Carissa parked behind Kyle. She could not help but notice that a couple of inches of snow covered both vehicles. It was not uncommon for Hailey to be at the house, but Carissa was worried about it today because of the weather. She grabbed her bags and made her way inside, dodging patches of ice and piles of snow that were drifting. Carissa opened the door to be greeted by a delectable aroma coming from the kitchen. She smiled as she closed the door behind her. “Honey! I’m home!” Carissa called out as she removed her coat and hung it by the door. “We’re in the kitchen!” Hailey yelled back. Carissa picked up the bag and took it to the kitchen, where she found Hailey cooking while Kyle sat at the kitchen island watching. She gave Kyle a quick kiss before sliding onto the stool beside him. She inhaled deeply, trying to determine what Hailey was cooking. “What are you making, Hail? It smells amazing,” Carissa said. Hailey flashed one of her thousand-watt smiles at Carissa and said, “It is a recipe I found yesterday. It is steak with mushrooms, onions, and bell peppers. I am making a rice pilaf to go with it.” “I am so happy that you love to cook, and you like to break into my house to do it,” Carissa laughed. “I saw the bag. Did you find a dress or do we need to raid my closet tomorrow before the party at Dad’s?” Hailey asked. “I found a dress,” Carissa said proudly. “I love the color. It is plain, but it is velvet, so it makes it perfect for the party.” Carissa stood and pulled the dress out of the bag. She held it against herself and asked, “What do you think?” “It is perfect for you,” Hailey said with a smile. “It is classy and dressy, but not too flashy or bright. You look great in that color.” Kyle studied the dress and Carissa as she held it before he said, “I love it. It makes the green in your eyes pop. I will be the envy of every man at the party.” “Dinner is almost ready,” Hailey announced. “Get cleaned up and put your dress away. Hurry because I will be ready to start serving any second.” “Sure thing, Mom,” Carissa teased her friend. Carissa stuffed the dress in the bag and jogged to the bedroom. She slipped out of the clothing she had worn all day in the classroom and put on a sweatshirt and lounge pants. She padded back into the kitchen to find Hailey filling plates and placing them on the kitchen island, where they often ate. “Hail, why don’t you spend the night here tonight?” Carissa asked as she accepted a plate, smiling. “The snow is really coming down. It is supposed to stop in a couple of hours, so the roads will be cleared by morning. Your dad would kill me if I made you drive home in this weather.” “Are you sure?” Hailey asked. “Kyle was telling me how he was hoping for a quiet night alone with you.” “I’m sure,” Carissa said as she took Kyle’s hand and smiled at him. “You are my best friend. I wouldn’t know what to do without you. I will make it up to Kyle with an extra special night alone.” Kyle grinned at Carissa and said, “Hailey, you need to stay if it means I get an extra special night alone with Carrie.” “See!” Carissa laughed. “Besides that, I have brand new cartons of ice cream in the freezer, all the fixings for nachos, and at least two packages of brownie mix. The three of us can pick a few movies and make a night of it. You can borrow some of my clothes like always and relax tonight before the party at your dad’s tomorrow night.” “Oooh! That one movie we all wanted to see is now streaming. It’s perfect for tonight,” Kyle exclaimed. “How can I say no to any of that?” Hailey giggled as she filled her plate and sat at the island beside Carissa. “Maybe we can do a trial run of your hair and makeup for tomorrow. I am thinking a plum smoky eye for you to make the green in your eyes pop even more.” “When you ladies are doing that, I will take a nap,” Kyle said as he took a big bite of dinner. “Oh, God,” he moaned. “Hailey, this is delicious.” “Thank you,” Hailey said with a smile. “You can take a nap if you want, but I am thinking that some mascara and the right shade of warm eyeliner would make those blue eyes of yours be the talk of the town.” “Thanks, but I’ll pass. I would forget about it and have it smeared all over my face within minutes,” Kyle said as he ate. “That is sort of like your offer to lend me a pair of heels because they would make my butt look good. They very well might, but I don’t want to risk the broken ankle. My hat’s off to anyone who wears makeup or high heels. I am not strong enough for either of those things.” Carissa and Hailey laughed at Kyle's response. Hailey had always teased Carissa’s boyfriends without mercy. Their friendship had thrived, and the loving and friendly teasing they dished out to one another was included when either dated someone. Some had been offended by it, and the relationships had ended soon after starting. That was part of why Carrisa knew that Kyle was the right man for her. He had not only accepted it but thrived, often teasing the two women as they teased him. That is why the friendship expanded to include Kyle. As Carissa sat at the kitchen island, listening to the banter, she realized how much she loved the two people she was sharing dinner with. They were her family. That was why Carissa was hoping this year, for Christmas, she would get an engagement ring from Kyle. Maybe she would get lucky, and he would propose at the party the next night. “You OK, Carrie?” Kyle asked as he rubbed her leg. “You are awfully quiet considering that you and Hailey still have plans to work out for the party.” Carry smiled and replied, “I’m fine. I’m tired, and my mind is wandering a bit.” Hailey looked at her friend and frowned, “Then hurry and eat. I will make a double batch of brownies while you sit there and supervise. After that, we can sit in the living room, watch that movie, and pig out while you fall asleep on Kyle. How does that sound?” “Perfect,” Carissa murmured. “It sounds perfect.” Chapter 2 Carissa could barely keep her eyes open as she cuddled with Kyle on the sofa. Hailey had taken the loveseat and was busy describing what the party would be like this year. The theme was winter wonderland, and Hailey’s father was going all out. She was excitedly showing pictures of the decorations and even some of the desserts that would be served, thanks to her father’s kitchen staff, who had made some in advance to test the new recipes. “That fudge marble cake looks so good. I hope I can get a slice of it tomorrow,” Carissa said as she scrolled through the photos on Hailey’s phone. “It is fantastic!” Hailey replied excitedly. “Dad’s new pastry chef, Melody, made that. I will message her and see if she can make an extra one for the party.” “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Carissa insisted as Hailey typed away on her phone. “It's nothing,” Hailey said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “This is literally what Melody is paid to do.” Her phone beeped, and she turned it so Carissa could see the screen. “See! She’s happy to do it. Melody is asking if there is anything else we want at the party. Cookies? Cakes? Pies? She can do any of it.” Carissa shook her head and said, “I can’t think of anything. Can you, Kyle?” “If she is willing to take requests, I would love some butter cookies and some kind of cookie with a lot of nuts in it, like pecans or walnuts,” Kyle said, eager for the desserts. Hailey typed on her phone while Kyle spoke. She smirked at him as she waited for a reply. When her cellphone dinged, she grinned and stuck her tongue out at Kyle as she showed him the screen. “She is happy to do it,” Hailey said. She looked at Carissa and tipped her head to the side as she studied her friend. “Are you sure you don’t want something special? The cake isn’t special, and Melody was already considering making two instead of one. Your request just confirmed it.” “I’m sure,” Carissa said. She yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand before continuing. “I already feel a little out of place going to this party. I know we have attended them since we were kids, but most of them were before your dad became such a big deal in the business world. I have the feeling that this year, most, if not all, the guests will be out of my league. I work with five-year-olds, not millionaires.” “I’ll be right beside you all night,” Kyle said, kissing Carissa’s head. “Thanks to my family and clerking in Mr Evans’ law office, I know some of the people. They are just like us, only with nicer cars, so try not to worry.” “Don’t worry at all. If you start to feel uncomfortable, we can sneak off with plates filled to overflowing and pig out while we watch TV on the opposite side of the house,” Hailey said with a grin. “We might even invite Kyle to join us, but I don’t know. A secret girl meeting might be in order.” “It might be,” Carissa said through another yawn. “That’s it, young lady,” Kyle said with a chuckle as he stood and pulled Carissa to her feet. “It is bedtime for you. I’ll help Hailey make the bed in the guest room.” “But…” Carissa tried to protest, being interrupted by another yawn. “No buts,” Kyle said, pulling Carissa close and kissing her tenderly. He broke the kiss and smiled at her, saying, “You need your sleep. You were up early because today was the last day of school before winter break, and I know you were on your feet all day. You had parties and parents and who knows what all to deal with on top of shopping after work and finding your dress. I will tuck you in and come to bed soon, OK?” Carissa looked at Hailey, who shrugged at her. Hailey said, “Sorry, Care. I agree with Kyle. You already said you were up before five this morning, and we have the party tomorrow night. I can do wonders with makeup, but the bigger the bags you have under your eyes from the lack of sleep, the harder it is to hide them.” “Fine,” Carissa relented with a sigh. “I will go to bed, but I do it under protest. It makes me feel like a bad hostess.” “Hostess?” Hailey laughed. “You and I have been friends since the first day of kindergarten. I am closer to being your sister than a guest.” “You have a point,” Carissa grinned, pulling away from Kyle to hug Hailey. “Thank you for dinner and baking the brownies. Leave the dishes, and I will do them in the morning when I make breakfast.” “Will do,” Hailey agreed as they ended their hug. “See you in the morning. We didn’t get around to it tonight, so at breakfast, we need to figure out your hair and makeup. We can head to Dad’s as soon as the roads are cleared and get ready there. How does that sound?” “Good,” Carissa said through another yawn. “I threw clothes in the dryer this morning before work. There are pajamas for you in there. I will see you in the morning.” “See you in the morning,” Hailey called after her as Kyle looped his arm around Carissa’s waist and guided her toward the bedroom. Kyle walked Carissa down the hallway to their bedroom and opened the door. The lamp on the nightstand was on, allowing them to see as he led her to the bed. Kyle kissed her deeply, pulling her close to press against him. The kiss left Carissa breathless and panting when he pulled away from her. “Wow,” Carissa breathed. “Are you going to continue that thought when you come to bed?” “Only if you are awake,” Kyle grinned as he pulled the covers back on her side of the bed. “Do you want one of my T-shirts to sleep in tonight?” “Please,” Carissa sighed as she began to undress. Kyle went to the dresser to retrieve the shirt for her, only to turn around and see her in nothing but her panties. He swallowed hard as she took the shirt from his hand. “Thanks.” “No, thank you,” Kyle said, his eyes scanning up and down Carissa’s body. “You are so $exy, even when you aren’t trying to be. Maybe we could have a little fun in the morning before we get out of bed,” Kyle said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he gave her a crooked grin. “That will depend on how late you stay up watching movies tonight,” Carissa giggled as she pulled the shirt over her head. “You might think sleep is more important than s*x.” “Maybe, but not likely,” Kyle said as Carissa sat on the bed. He took the covers in his hand and said, “Lie down so I can tuck you in. That way, you will get plenty of sleep, and Hailey can quit worrying about extra work to hide that you are tired.” “OK, OK,” Carissa laughed as she snuggled down into the bed, Kyle covering her and gently tucking the blankets around her. “I love you. You are so good to me. You always have been.” “I love you too,” Kyle said as he kissed her forehead. “You are so sweet, I have to be good to you. That’s the only thing you deserve.” Kyle gave her a final peck on the lips before turning off the light on the nightstand and leaving their bedroom. Carissa was drifting off almost as soon as Kyle turned off the lamp. Her eyes were already closed when she heard the door shut, and Kyle’s footsteps pad back to the living room. Carissa’s last thought before sleep took her was of how wonderful it would feel when Kyle joined her in bed and pulled her close. - Carissa woke up with a start. The clock on her nightstand said it was just after 2:00 AM, and Kyle was not in bed. She sat up and listened carefully, unable to hear anything with the door closed. Carissa climbed out of bed and pulled on her robe to fend off the chill in the house as she went to the door. She opened it and stepped into the hallway to see Kyle closing the guest room door. “Kyle? Why are you coming out of Hailey’s room? Is something wrong?” Carissa asked. “I was helping her make up the bed, remember?” Kyle said in a hushed tone as he approached Carissa and ushered her back into the bedroom. “Hailey is wound up about the party and kept finding things to watch on TV. I finally said I had to go to bed, and she could use the TV in the guest room. It’s small, but it works.” “Yeah, Hailey can get that way about the parties her dad throws,” Carissa sighed as she took off her robe and tossed it on the chair in the corner before crawling into bed. “She has done that for as long as I can remember. She is convinced that she will meet a guy, they will instantly fall madly in love, and he will be her knight in shining armor.” “I’m glad you don’t want a knight in shining armor because, with me, you got a fool in tin foil,” Kyle grinned as he climbed into bed and pulled Carissa close. Carissa giggled, “That might be true, but you are my fool, and I love you.” Kyle replied with a chuckle. “I love you too.” He kissed her tenderly, then said, “I love you, Carrie. Sleep well. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.” Chapter 3 The world was silent in the way only a blanket of snow could create. Carissa was lying in bed with Kyle, who was still sleeping. She watched him as he slept. Kyle had striking good looks with his dark hair and blue eyes. His chiseled jaw had a bit of stubble, giving him a scruffy, rugged look. That thought made Carissa smile. They might have been born and raised in Montana, but Kyle hated the outdoors and was far from rugged. Carissa slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Kyle. She hurried to pull on sweatpants and a hoodie before padding to the kitchen in bare feet. Carissa took an elastic hairband from a basket she kept on top of the refrigerator and pulled her long curls into a loose, messy bun. She wanted to make a good breakfast for all of them and to thank Hailey for dinner the night before. In no time, Carissa had biscuits baking in the oven and sausage sizzling on the stove. She had everything ready to make scrambled eggs and gravy when the sausage was finished. While Carissa waited, she turned her attention to the notepad on the counter. The to-do list for the day seemed to be growing, and that made her wrinkle her nose. She would admit she enjoyed the parties Hailey’s dad threw during the holidays, but she hated the preparation and anxiety before she arrived at his house. Growing up, she always felt out of place around the people she looked at as the rich friends of her best friend’s father, as if they looked down on her or felt sorry for her. She did not grow up in poverty. Her parents were teachers, but they did not have the same money as most of the other guests. Now that her parents had retired and moved to the warmer climate of Louisiana, Carissa was on her own. She had to rely on Hailey and Kyle to be with her and keep her calm. Carissa sighed before turning back to the skillet of sausage. She flipped the patties and sighed again before checking on the progress of the biscuits. When she opened the oven, she was greeted by the delectable aroma of freshly baked biscuits. That made her stomach rumble in anticipation of breakfast. She set the tray on the counter to cook, telling herself that she could wait until everyone was awake. She went back to the list and scowled. Hailey would drive her SUV to her father’s as soon as they had eaten breakfast. Carissa and Kyle would quickly follow in Kyle’s truck. They would all dress and get ready for the party at the house beforehand. It was something she and Hailey had done for years. When they were kids, Carissa would even spend the night with Hailey so they could have all day to get ready together. “Breakfast smells good,” Hailey said, stretching as she shuffled into the kitchen. “I could go for some biscuits and gravy.” Carissa laughed, “That’s good, because I am making scrambled eggs and gravy as soon as the sausage is done.” “Oh, yummy,” Hailey said as she hopped onto the counter. She studied Carissa and said, “You are worried about the party, aren’t you?” “Yeah,” Carissa admitted with a sigh. “I know it’s silly, but I always feel like I am out of place there. Your dad has always treated me like a second daughter, but still, being around all his rich friends bugs me.” “You say that about every party, and I always tell you the same thing. Dad and I want you there. We want your parents there, too, but they were smart enough to move south to escape our lovely Montana winters. That means you are it, and things would not be the same without you. The same rules apply as always; if anyone, and I do mean anyone, says anything derogatory to you, tell Dad or me, and they are out of there. Got it?” Hailey asked, smiling at her friend. “Got it,” Carissa sighed. The pair fell silent as Carissa took the sausage out of the skillet and started the gravy. Hailey hopped off the counter and placed a dishtowel in the basket that Carissa always used for bread. She put the biscuits in it and set it on the kitchen island before she set plates and utensils on the island where they would eat. “Thanks for doing the dishes after I told you not to do them,” Carissa said with a smile. “You’re welcome. You were exhausted last night, and I know that when I cook dinner, you always make breakfast if I spend the night. It only seemed fair that you had a clean kitchen this morning,” Hailey said as Carissa scrambled the eggs. “That and you knew I would be stressing out for no reason about the party,” Carissa said, wrinkling her nose, irritated by her anxiety and dread for an event that she always enjoyed after she arrived. “That too,” Hailey giggled as Kyle walked into the kitchen. Carissa turned to look at her boyfriend, who was dressed only in low-slung lounge pants. He was running his hand through his disheveled dark hair. That action showed off his perfectly chiseled physique, from his broad shoulders to his sculpted abs to his defined V-line that disappeared into the top of his pants. Carissa glanced over to see Hailey ogling Kyle as he yawned. She couldn’t blame her friend. Kyle was gorgeous, and he took pride in his looks. He smiled sleepily at Carissa before he slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her. “Good morning. Breakfast smells great,” Kyle said, his voice husky with sleep. “Good morning,” Carissa said, returning his kiss. “Have a seat. Everything is ready, and we need to hurry. The roads might still be icy this morning, so we need to leave as soon as we can.” “That works for me,” Kyle said as he took a biscuit from the basket and bit into it as Carissa and Hailey moved the rest of the food to the kitchen island. “That gives you less chance to get cold feet and try to back out.” Kyle furrowed his brows at Carissa as she sat beside him. “Why do you do that anyway? I have only been going to these parties since we started dating, but I think they are awesome.” “The parties that John throws are always amazing, and I enjoy them after I get there,” Carissa said as she served herself. “You know how I am. I start overthinking things and running through worst-case what-ifs in my head, which makes me anxious. I have always done it. Hailey can vouch for me.” “It’s true. Carrie has always been like this,” Hailey confirmed as he spooned gravy onto her biscuits. “That is why it’s good that you are driving her today. She can’t make a U-turn and skip out on me.” “I have never done that, and I never would,” Carissa said as she twisted her mouth. “I forgot to make coffee, didn’t I?” “You did, but that’s OK,” Kyle said, kissing her cheek. “We can treat ourselves by getting coffee at that shop you like so much on the way to John’s.” “Ooooh, and some of their pastries to go! We can eat them on the way,” Hailey grinned. “I promise to get cookies or donuts and eat only when I am at stop signs.” Carissa smiled at her friend but said nothing as Hailey and Kyle talked about the different coffees and sweets they might get. This was typical for them, so it did not bother Carissa, but something was. She could not shake the feeling that the day would not go as planned and might end in disaster. Chapter 4 John Evans was in his home office, finishing the last bit of work he needed to complete before Christmas. His annual holiday party was that night, and he was excited about it as always. The holiday parties were something he and his late wife, Helen, had started before they were even married. They began by inviting only a few friends and family to their home. As John’s success had grown, so had the size of the parties. Helen had been the mastermind behind the celebrations. She loved planning every detail. Helen planned the menu to include a favorite food of each of the guests. That always led to far more food being prepared than needed, but it was important that their friends and family were happy. John stared into the fire roaring in the fireplace opposite his desk. His mind drifted to Helen’s last party. Her cancer had reached a point where they knew that nothing else could be done, and her time was short. Helen had made John promise to keep up with the tradition of the parties. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he kept his promise. Carissa’s parents had come to his rescue after Helen’s death. They had supported him and Hailey and helped them navigate the world without the love of his life. Carissa’s parents were the ones who helped him put together the holiday parties after Helen’s passing, giving him more responsibility with each passing year. This was the first year they had not helped him in some way, but since they had retired and moved to Louisiana, he could not expect them to return to help. The couple had called and given him suggestions and words of encouragement, but that was all they could do. John sniffed and wiped his eyes. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and return to the present, rather than staying in the past, where he would be filled with sadness. As if on cue to help him focus on other things, his cell phone rang. He picked it up off the desk and smiled when he saw his daughter, Hailey, calling him. “Hello, sweetheart. Are you leaving Carrie’s house?” John asked his daughter when he answered the call. “Already left. We are at that little coffee shop we like in town. You want me to get something for you? It might be cold when we get there, but you should be able to nuke it,” Hailey said. John chuckled, “Thanks for the offer, but have you seen the new coffee machine? It can make anything, and there are rarely lines to get it.” “Oh, I did forget about that. It was put in the day before yesterday, so I haven’t had a chance to try it out yet. Can we use it today? Like, can people have fancy coffees at the party along with the bar and nonalcoholic stuff?” Hailey asked. “I am counting on it,” John said, looking outside at the snowy landscape. “Hail, I want you, Carrie, and Kyle to be careful driving to the house. The roads are still a mess. If you have any problems, promise me that you will go back to Carrie’s until it is safe. Getting to the party is not worth losing your life.” “I promise we will be careful, Dad. We checked the weather reports and the Department of Transportation maps to see how bad the roads are. They still have a little snow on them, but they have been cleared for the most part. As long as we are careful and drive a little slower, we should be fine,” Hailey assured her father. “Ope, I’m almost up to order. Be there soon. Love you!” Before John could reply and tell Hailey he loved her, she had ended the call. He frowned at the phone in his hand. A knot was forming in the pit of his stomach. Hailey would be driving on snowy roads, which led his mind to worst-case scenarios. A light tap on the open door made him look up to see Alice walking in with a smile. Alice had been hired to help with the household and Hailey when Helen had become ill. She had become family, and John would be lost without her. “I’m sorry to disturb you, John,” Alice said softly. “Would you like а cup of coffee? Jaz is trying to teach me how to use that fancy machine you bought. I have already made coffee for everyone in the kitchen and for those setting up for the party. That leaves the two of us, and if I have anymore, I will turn into a hummingbird.” “Thank you. Alice. Coffee would be wonderful,” John replied, thankful for her interruption in his thoughts. “What would you like?” Alice asked, her eyes twinkling as she smiled. “Something Christmassy,” John grinned. “I trust you to surprise me.” “I will be in with it in a few minutes,” Alice said with a nod before turning and strolling from the room. John smiled and shook his head as Alice left the room. The woman looked like the quintessential grandmother in her mid-length dresses, cardigans, and her gray hair piled in a bun. However, she was anything but that. Alice was possibly more proficient with computers and electronics than John was. She ran several miles daily and, when the weather permitted, was often outside gardening or even playing basketball with household staff. Over the years, Alice had been a nurse, nanny, cook, housekeeper, accountant, driver, and had even helped with maintenance from time to time when no one else was available. His cellphone rang again, making him jump. He sighed, then looked to see it was his friend Andrew Fenn. Drew’s family owned the largest construction company in Montana and often used John’s law firm. Drew was invited to the party every year, but he rarely attended. “Hello, my friend!” John exclaimed as he answered the phone. “How are you this fine morning now that the snow has stopped falling?” “Hey, John,” Drew replied, sounding tired. “The blue sky is making my view of the mountains even more beautiful than usual.” “You sound like something is wrong,” John said softly. “I take it you are once again standing me up at my own party.” Drew sighed and said, “I am. Snow filled at least one of the passes overnight, which means I am not going anywhere for a while.” “I was hoping you would be here. The last time we talked, you mentioned doing some type of private school for your employees’ children. My daughter’s best friend, Carissa, will be here later and most likely spend the night here at the house before driving home in the morning. She is a kindergarten teacher and the perfect person to bounce your ideas off of,” John said. “Carrie is like my second daughter. I’ve told you about her and her parents before. If you came to visit more often, I’m sure you would have met all of them by now.” “I get it,” Drew chuckled. “I have been neglecting my friend duties.” He sighed loudly and asked, “If I fly into the Bozeman airport, do you think Alice could pick me up?” “I’m sure she would, and if she can’t, I’ll find someone else to pick you up,” John grinned as Alice walked in with his coffee and placed it before him on the desk. “Hey, she just walked in, let me ask her.” Alice raised an eyebrow at her boss and folded her arms over her chest. John smiled at the woman and asked, “Alice, if Drew Fenn can fly into the Bozeman airport, can you pick him up?” “Of course,” Alice replied, dropping her arms to her side and taking on a serious expression. “When do I need to be there to meet him?” John grinned at Alice as he spoke into the phone. “Alice says she is happy to do it and just needs to know when to be there.” Drew sighed again. “It will take a little while to get the plane ready. How about I call you with an ETA before we take off?” “That would be fine. We will see you later today,” John said, not hiding his happiness at his friend finally attending a party he hosted. “Yeah, see you later,” Drew said before he ended the call. “Is Drew finally coming to one of your famous holiday parties?” Alice asked with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “He is,” John said as he picked up his coffee and took a sip. He was hit with mocha and peppermint. It was delicious and exactly what he had asked for. He pointed to the mug and said, “This is amazing. I hope you remember how you did this because it might be my new favorite coffee.” “I remember. I also wrote it down,” Alice said with a warm smile. “Would you like me to prepare a room for Drew before I pick him up? He might not want to fly home tonight after the party. Plus, the latest forecast shows we might get more snow tonight. We don’t want him flying in bad weather.” “Please, and I will do my best to talk him into staying the night,” John said. ”It will be safer for everyone if he does. The last thing I want is for you or anyone else to be driving in bad weather.” “Does that mean you would also like a room prepared for Carrie and Kyle?” Alice asked with a smile. “And rooms for anyone else who is uncomfortable driving back into Bozeman if it is snowing again when the party ends.” “I will get right on that,” Alice said with a nod. “Would you like another coffee before I get started?” “Maybe later,” John said with a tired smile. “I have the feeling I will need several more before bedtime.” “I have the feeling we will both need several more cups of coffee before tonight is over.” “And if there is drama to go with the party, we might need something stronger,” John said with a crooked grin. “Amen to that!” Alice laughed. “I’ll provide the glasses if you provide the whiskey.” “Deal!” John chuckled. “I’m going to start with the bedrooms,” Alice said as she turned and stepped toward the door. “I’ll check on you later to see if you need more coffee.” “Thanks, Alice!” John called after her as she left his office. John leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee as he stared into the fireplace. The dancing flames helped to ease his anxiety over his daughter and her friends being out on the roads. They learned to drive on those roads and knew how to drive in the worst conditions. John looked at the clock on the wall above the door and sighed. In the next hour, Hailey, Carissa, and Kyle would be arriving, and he could finally relax and enjoy the day. Chapter 5 Carissa gripped the armrest on the passenger door of Kyle’s truck as they followed Hailey’s SUV. The road leading to Hailey’s house was full of twists, turns, and switchbacks. It could be treacherous even in the best of conditions. What made things worse was that Kyle was not the best driver. Carissa hated to ride with him and always offered to drive, but when they were together, Kyle insisted on driving. He would insist on it even when Carissa knew the route, and he did not. It was one of the things she found least attractive about her boyfriend, but she did her best to overlook it. “Why are you holding on for dear life, Carrie? Riding with me isn’t that scary, is it?” Kyle asked in a teasing tone. “Just nervous because of the road conditions,” Carissa sighed with a tight smile. “But, to be fair, you don’t have the best driving record. You have totaled three vehicles in two years.” “True, but that last one was not my fault,” Kyle said defensively. “I spun out on the wet road and was fine until another car did the same thing and hit me.” “Still, I will be nervous until we get to John’s house. I love driving this road in the summer with all the flowers and wildlife. Winter is another story. It feels so cold and lonely. The one saving grace is that I know Alice will have either steaming mugs of coffee or cocoa waiting for us when we get there,” Carissa said with a smile. “I still don’t understand something,” Kyle said as he kept his eyes glued to the road. “If you and Hailey are such good friends and her dad and your parents have known each other for so long, why didn’t he give you some high-class job in his law firm or other businesses after you graduated from college? I’m sure if you had wanted, he would have called in a few favors and gotten you a job with one of his buddies if you had preferred.” “I’m sure John would have if I had wanted that, but I didn’t, and I still don’t,” Carissa said with a shrug. “I don’t ever remember a time when I did not want to be a teacher. The subject and the age groups changed as I got older, but I knew I was meant to be a teacher. It might not be glamorous, and I will never get rich doing it, but I love what I do.” “Yeah, I guess,” Kyle mumbled. Carissa looked at him questioningly, trying to understand why he was saying this. “Where is this coming from?” Carissa asked. “I applied to law school, and I was accepted. I start after the first of the year,” Kyle said before letting out an explosive breath. Carissa was stunned. Kyle had not said a word to her about going to law school. He worked at John’s law firm as a paralegal. He seemed happy with that and the frequent promotions he had received. Kyle lived with Carissa, and he covered part of the bills. With him going back to school, it would be difficult for them, and he should have said something before now. “Law school?” Carissa questioned, hoping she had misunderstood him. “That is in Missoula. That is a three-hour drive from here. How is this going to work? Did you get a scholarship or a housing allowance or something?” “No. But I have looked at apartments online. I found one that is pretty reasonable and near one of the elementary schools, so it would be close to work for you,” Kyle said. Carissa gaped at him in utter dismay. Kyle had planned everything without her, including her new job and home. She turned to stare out the windshield, shaking her head as they approached the Evans estate. “I can’t just pick up and move to a different school in the middle of the year like that,” Carissa said. “We need to talk about this, but not now. All I want to do today is enjoy the party. After the way you dropped this on me, I don’t know if it will be possible, but I want to try.” “I’m sorry. I would have told you sooner, but I didn’t know how,” Kyle said as they followed Hailey up the long driveway toward the garage. “You should have told me as soon as you started thinking of it. Then you should have told me when you applied, and then you should have told me when you had the acceptance letter in your hand,” Carissa spat. “Instead, you waited until my school was out on winter break and are expecting me to drop everything to follow you to a city over two hundred miles away.” The truck fell silent as Hailey pulled into the garage ahead of them. Kyle pulled up to the door to the left of where she had entered. They had done this many times before. Hailey would use her remote to open the garage door where she always parked her SUV. She would then open the bay beside her from the inside to allow Carissa and now Kyle to park out of the weather. “I said I am sorry,” Kyle said as the door opened in front of his truck. “I admit I should have told you sooner. I also agree that we should talk about this later.” Kyle pulled into the garage, parked, and whispered, “I really am sorry. I love you, Carrie. We will figure this out, and if we can’t, I’ll put law school off until we can.” Carissa looked at Kyle. He was sad and worried. He could never hide how he felt because his facial expressions always gave it away. She wanted to be mad at him, but seeing how broken he looked made her heart hurt. “I love you too,” Carissa sighed. She looked at Hailey’s reflection in the side mirror as she unloaded the back of her SUV. “Come on. We need to help Hailey take things inside and take our bags to whichever room Alice will have undoubtedly assigned us. After that, we can help Alice if she needs it.” Kyle said nothing as he and Carissa got out of his truck. Carissa retrieved her bags from the backseat, leaving Kyle to get his. She went to where Hailey was sorting through shopping bags in the back of her SUV and gave her friend a forced smile. Hailey looked at Carissa and furrowed her brow, asking, “Are you OK? Did Kyle do something dumb again?” “Yes, and I don’t want to talk about it right now,” Carissa said as she held out her hand to take some of the shopping bags. “Yeah, OK,” Hailey said, not pushing as she handed a few bags to her friend. Carissa took the bags. She gave one last glance at Kyle before hurrying to the door leading into the house and disappearing inside. “What did you do?” Hailey whispered to Kyle after the door closed, and Carissa could not hear them. “I told her about law school just before we got here,” Kyle admitted. “You what?” Hailey hissed. “Why would you do that? I thought you were going to wait until tomorrow or something?” “I don’t know,” Kyle said, running his hand through his hair. “We were talking about how Carrie could probably get a job that pays more than teaching if she asked your dad, and, of course, she wants to stick with teaching. That led me to tell her that I wasn’t happy with just being a paralegal and that I had been accepted to law school.” Kyle gave Hailey a defeated look and continued, “I then told her that I had already looked at apartments in Missoula for us, and one was near a school where she could work. That went over about as well as you can expect.” “Kyle, for a smart man, you can be a complete idiot sometimes,” Hailey said with a scowl. “Help me take the rest of this stuff in. Maybe between the two of us, we can smooth things over with Carrie, so her day isn’t totally ruined. This is the first Christmas since her parents moved, and she can’t visit them until spring break. This is rough on her.” Hailey pushed several shopping bags into Kyle’s arms before taking the rest herself. She slammed the back hatch closed and gave an exasperated sigh. “Come on. We need to get inside. Most of this stuff is for the party, and Alice and the other staff are waiting for it,” Hailey said as she led the way to the door leading inside. Kyle said nothing as he followed her. He knew he had made what was most likely the biggest mistake of his life. Now, all he could do was try to fix it. Chapter 6 Carissa felt the warmth of the house as she stepped through the door. She closed it behind her and turned to see Alice waiting for her, smiling her warm, welcoming smile. When Carissa saw the woman, her shoulders dropped, and she let out a deep sigh. “Carrie, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” Alice asked as she hurried to take the bags from Carissa. Carissa tried to smile as she shrugged and replied, “Everything, but there's nothing you can fix.” “Kyle did something, didn’t he?” Alice asked as she hugged Carissa. “He did, and what’s worse is that I’m not sure he even understands that what he did was wrong,” Carissa said as they walked. Alice made a sound that was remarkably close to a growl. Carissa was surprised to hear something so fearsome from Alice that it made her pause before hurrying to keep pace with the woman. “Sorry,” Alice said, looking embarrassed. “I know he is your boyfriend, and you love him, but I have always felt you deserve better than him. He should cherish you, and instead, you are a possession that he shows off when he thinks he will gain from it.” “You sound like my mom,” Carissa sighed as she and Alice walked into the kitchen to drop off some of the bags before continuing. “Your mother is a smart woman,” Alice said, her eyes twinkling as they turned into the hallway that led to the room that had been prepared for Carissa and Kyle. “I made up your favorite room for you. Would you like me to make up a separate one for Kyle? Sleeping alone might be a good reminder of what it would be like without you.” That made Carissa giggle. Alice always seemed to know just what to say. “Thanks, but it’s OK,” Carissa said as they entered the bedroom. “We will figure it out. It might end up with me moving to Missoula before the end of winter break and trying to find a job teaching there, but we will work it out.” “Excuse me?” Alice asked as she took Carissa’s bag and placed it on the bed. “What do you mean by that?” Carissa dropped onto the bed and said, “What I mean by that is that Kyle applied to law school and was accepted. He starts in January. Don’t ask me why, then, and not in the fall like normal, but that’s what he is doing. He has already looked for apartments for us and has it all planned how I will just pick up and move with him in a matter of a couple of weeks. None of this would be bad, except he just told me. As in, we were in the driveway pulling up to the house. He has known for months and not said a word.” “Again, I know you love him, but that man needs to be left in the forest for the wolves to eat,” Alice scowled. She tried to smile as she changed the subject. “Did you find a dress for the party, or are you borrowing one from Hailey?” Carissa lit up as she thought of the dress. She grabbed the bag and said, “I found one! It isn’t fancy, but I love the color, and it fits perfectly. I brought plenty of jewelry, and with the right hair and makeup, I think it will be perfect.” She got to her feet, pulled the dark green velvet dress from the bag, and held it up to herself. Carissa chewed on her lower lip as Alice studied the dress. She was holding her breath when Alice smiled at her and nodded. “I love it, Carrie. That is one of your best colors. The style might be simple, but the velvet makes it perfect for tonight’s party,” Alice said, still smiling. Carry let out an exaggerated sigh and laughed, “You had me worried at first.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that,” Alice laughed. “I’m sure Hailey will help you get ready as always. But if you need any help, yell, and I will come running. I do have to drive into Bozeman later to pick up someone who is flying in for the party, but that shouldn’t take long.” “Thanks,” Carissa said as she laid the dress on the bed. “Hailey has already planned everything she wants to do to me, so hopefully, it won’t take long. She even helped me pack my makeup and jewelry, so I didn’t forget anything.” “Well, to be on the safe side, I will check with you before I go into town. If you have forgotten something, like your mascara or eyeliner, I can swing by the store and pick it up for you,” Alice offered with a smile. “Knock, knock,” Hailey said from the doorway. She stepped in with Kyle trailing behind her. “Sorry, we got waylaid in the kitchen on the way here. Carrie, are you ready to start making ourselves even prettier than we already are?” Carissa frowned as she looked over Hailey’s shoulder at Kyle. He stood picking lint off his shirt. Kyle was acting as if he had not said anything or blown Carissa’s life to bits, leaving it for her to pick up. Alice did not miss Carissa’s expression and tried to remove the one thing that was causing her distress. Alice broke the tension by saying, “Kyle, why don’t you come with me? John bought us an absurdly large and extravagant coffee machine. Why don’t we have а-'cup before we bring some to the ladies? That will give them a chance to start getting ready and leave plenty of time for me to pick up anything they might need when I run into town later.” “Um, yeah, sure,” Kyle muttered as he set his bag beside the door. “If you girls need anything before we bring your coffees, let me know,” Alice said as she hugged the women. She turned and marched toward the door, glaring at Kyle. “You, kitchen, now,” Alice ordered the man. Kyle’s eyes grew wide at her order, but he did not argue. He turned and hurried toward the kitchen ahead of Alice. She closed the door as she left the room, leaving Hailey and Carissa alone. “Do you want to talk about it?” Hailey asked. “Yes and no,” Carissa sighed as she dropped back onto the bed. “I need to figure out what to do about what Kyle said and has planned, but at the same time, I just want to enjoy the day.” “When he told me, I yelled at him. He should have told you from the start,” Hailey said as she sat on the bed beside Carissa. “You knew?” Carissa asked, not believing her ears. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me?” “I found out last week, and he begged me not to tell you. Kyle said he was going to tell you the day I found out, and clearly, he did not. The big jerk.” “You should have told me,” Carissa quietly said. She felt betrayed by one of her oldest friends. “I know I should have, I am kicking myself for not saying anything,” Hailey insisted. “But, I also did not want to be the meddling friend who looked like they were trying to break up your relationship. Please don’t be mad at me. I was caught in the middle, and no matter what I did, I was going to be the bad guy in someone’s story.” “You’re not the bad guy,” Carissa sighed as she took her friend’s hand. “Kyle put you in a no-win situation, and you did what you thought was best. I’m not mad at you. I am mad at him. I also have to figure out what to do about this mess.” “Well, I say the first step should be you taking a nice, long, relaxing shower. That way, you can wash your hair, and we can make those curls of yours the star of the night. After that, we can think of ways to punish Kyle for what he has done. Maybe by the time the party rolls around, we will have made it to the part where we look at the logical ways to deal with the problems that Kyle had created.” “I like that idea,” Carissa said with a forced smile as she rose to her feet. “If I am still in the shower after an hour, come in and rescue me.” Hailey laughed, “You got it. While you shower, I will go to my room to get my stuff. By the time you’re out of the shower, I should have everything we need laid out and ready for us to use.” “Hurry,” Carissa giggled as she strode toward the in-suite bathroom. “I don’t want to miss out on the coffee Alice promised us.” Hailey was already out the door when she yelled back, “I’ll be back in two minutes! Enjoy your shower!” - Alice was silent as she walked Kyle to the breakfast nook where the coffee machine had been installed. Three staff members who were assisting with the party were gathered around it. One look at the scowl on Alice’s face was all it took for them to scurry back into the kitchen to avoid what was coming. “What would you like, Kyle?” Alice asked. “We can make almost anything with this contraption.” Kyle looked at Alice and smirked, “I’ll make it easy on you. I’ll have an americano.” “Fine. If that’s what you want,” Alice said as she started to make his coffee. Kyle’s eyes narrowed as he watched Alice work. He watched her deftly operate the coffee machine, which looked remarkably similar to the one at the coffee shop he preferred in town. “Is something wrong, Alice?” Kyle asked, not understanding the can of worms he was opening with that question. “Is something wrong?” Alice repeated, not bothering to look at him. “Kyle, Carrie told me about the conversation the two of you had before you arrived. What you did was sneaky and underhanded. If you are committed to someone, they should be included in major decisions, especially when they are also impacted by it. You cut Carrie out of the decision and expect her to lose everything she has worked so hard for, to follow you to Missoula. I know you claim to love Carissa, but doing that is not how you show your love.” “Carrie won’t lose anything,” Kyle argued. “The only thing she will have to do is teach at a different school. I have already found an apartment near one of the city's best schools. She will be fine. Carrie might not like it, but it won’t last forever, and then we can move back here or stay in Missoula, whichever one she wants to do.” Alice finished his coffee and gave it to him. He took a sip and nodded approvingly. “Thanks for the coffee, Alice,” Kyle said with an oily grin. “If you don’t mind, I will see if I can find John and have a chat with him about work.” He did not wait for Alice to respond before he walked away. Alice bit her tongue. She wanted to tell Kyle off, and although it was not her place, she would thoroughly enjoy it. Alice waited until he was well out of hearing range before she spoke. Alice murmured under her breath, “Leaving him in the forest for the wolves to eat is too good for him, and it might make the wolves sick. The last thing we need are wolves grumbling about bellyaches.” Chapter 7 The shower was not as long as Carissa had planned. She had washed her hair first, then started thinking about everything she would need to do to get ready for the party. That had led to her anxiety building and getting out of the shower after only a few minutes. That way, they would have plenty of time, especially when it came to taming her long curls. “That was fast,” Hailey said as Carissa stepped into the bedroom, wrapped in a plush robe. “I thought you were going to stay in there and relax.”
From international arms dealer, to full-time dad.
From international arms dealer, to full-time dad.
"Slow down or we're going to have an accident!" I screamed as my brother swerved around the semi, just as a biker crested the hill, heading straight for us. Then everything went black. When I wake up, I'm staring into the stormy eyes of Eagle, VP of the Soldiers of Retribution MC. My reckless brother fled the crash, leaving me to face the consequences. Now Eagle's demanding answers, his grip bruising my arm. "Give me the driver's name," he growls, but I can't betray my own brother, even if he abandoned me. Trapped in their clubhouse, I expect violence. Instead, I get something worse: a peck that sears my soul. Eagle's touch ignites a fire I can't control, even as his threats send chills down my spine. The Soldiers don't take betrayal lightly, and my loyalty to Ron might cost me everything—including my heart. ——————— Leona "Slow down or we're going to have an accident." My brother, Ron, was all over the road and getting on my last nerve. He was a reckless driver by choice, so I knew that my words were wasted, but someday he was going to regret not listening to me. "Relax, Sis." He swerved around another vehicle, which were far and few on the country road, and I clutched the dashboard to keep from being thrown against the door. "I've never had an accident." I rolled my eyes. Never say never, I wanted to tell him. "Yet," I stressed with a tight mouth. We were coming up fast on a semi, a rare sight on this road, and I held my breath, waiting for Ron's next move. It was a two-lane country road and there was a hill ahead of us. "What the heck are you doing?" I cried out when Ron pulled into the oncoming lane. I glared at him as if he were crazy, which he was. "Ron!" I screamed, panicked. "It's clear," he laughed my concern away. "I checked. See?" It was clear, and he accelerated to go around the semi. Just as we were even with the cab of the truck we were trying to pass, a motorcycle crested the hill, coming from the opposite direction, and headed straight for us. I let out a scream when I realized that our only course was to back off and move back behind the semi again. "Ron?" I said in a warning tone when it didn't appear that he was slowing down. "I got time!" I stared at the road ahead of us, my eyes rounding in fear as the motorcyclist got closer. "Ron!" This wasn't happening! "We're going to hit him!" Panic overwhelmed me as our window of making a life-saving decision narrowed. My gaze focused on the biker. I couldn't see his face because of his visor, but I got the sense that he was braking. Because of the speed he was going his bike wobbled slightly and I gasped, thinking that I was about to see him lose control. His options weren't great. "Ron..." My heart moved up into my throat. I was certain that I was about to see a man die, and in a horrible way. "God!" Ron cursed, finally realizing that he wasn't going to make it. He slammed on the brakes, allowing the semi to continue past us, but it was too late for the biker. Everything happened in a blur after that. Ron swore again. I screamed and braced myself. The motorcyclist veered off the road, losing control on the gravel shoulder and skidding into the wet grass. I turned in my seat to watch where he ended up, crying out when his bike slammed into a small tree. "Ohmygod! Stop the car!" I demanded as Ron continued down the road, along with the semi, each of them acting as if nothing had happened. "Ron, stop the car!" I grabbed at the door handle, fully prepared to exit the moving vehicle. "He could be hurt!" He could be dead! In sheer desperation I grabbed the wheel. Cursing beneath his breath, Ron swerved over to the shoulder, braking hard enough to send me slamming into the dash. He glared at me, I glared back, his mouth opening as if to say something. "Don't say a word, dumbhip!" I swore as I opened the door and jumped out. I ran to the biker. His bike had hit the tree head on, and it was obvious that he'd been thrown. The bike was destroyed. I only prayed that the man had survived. I crouched down next to him, taking note of the twisted way in which he was resting on the damp ground. Oh my God! "Is he okay?" I could hear the nervousness in Ron's voice as he hovered close by. "It was a accident!" he whined. "He should have slowed down!" He was already making excuses for his bad behavior, one of his familiar traits. "You were the one in the wrong!" I snapped, shooting him a look of anger. I was so mad I was shaking. A low moan indicated that the man on the ground was alive. "Help me turn him over. And be careful!" When Ron didn't move, I glanced back at him. He was slowly backing up, a look of horror on his thin face. He shook his head. "No..." His eyes met mine. "Do you know who he is? He's with the Soldiers of Retribution!" The fear in his wild eyes held me momentarily frozen. I'd heard of the local MC, had seen them riding around town, but had never been close to any of them. I returned my gaze to the motionless man on the ground, taking in the words on the back of his leather jacket. "So?" I said after a while. "He's hurt. We have to help him." Ron continued to shake his head, his backward steps never faltering as they took him back to his car. "Come on. We have to leave him. They'll kill us..." I snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Get a grip, Ron. It was an accident, as you pointed out. We're not going to leave an injured man on the side of the road. It could be hours before anyone else comes along. Now help me turn him over so I can see how hurt he is." Ron hesitated and then reluctantly walked back to me. Together we managed to turn the huge man over until he was on his back. His low groan of pain sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted his cracked visor to get a look at his face. "Okay, we've turned him over, now let's go." "Are you serious right now? Jesus, Ron!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving him!" I said harshly, running my eyes over the man as I tried to assess his injuries. The blood on his forehead and the side of his face revealed that he had a head injury. "We have to go!" Ron reached down, grabbed my arm, and tried to haul me to my feet. "Before anyone comes!" "What is wrong with you?" I snarled, jerking my arm away and falling back to the ground. "Call an ambulance!" The man groaned again, louder this time. "After we leave here, we'll call for an ambulance. You don't want to get on the bad side of the Soldiers." "Then you go!" I yelled, furious and fed up with him. I wasn't familiar with the reputation of the Soldiers of Retribution, but I'd never seen or heard anything negative about them. In fact, just the opposite. But something had my brother spooked. "I'll call you when I get home." I couldn't keep the disgust out of my tone. I returned my attention to the man on the ground and caught my breath. His eyes were open and he was staring up at me, pain etched on his chiseled features. He wet his lips. "Can you move?" I asked him worriedly. "God, that hurt." He ignored me. "Call..." For the first time I noticed that he'd reached for something in his jacket and was struggling to get it out. Behind me I heard Ron take off. I shook my head with deep disappointment and realized that his running away was only going to cause him more problems. "Here, let me." I gently moved the man's hand aside and dug out his phone. "Who do you want me to call?" He started to say something, cleared his throat, and whispered, "Eagle..." "Eagle. Okay." I went down his contact list until I found Eagle and hit his number. "Shouldn't I call 911, too?" I caught the slight nod of his head that indicated yes. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I asked as Eagle's number rang. "Take my helmet off." I put his phone on my shoulder and did as he asked. "Where the heck are you, Brother? You're late." I cleared my throat. "Um, hello?" There was clear surprise in the silence I was met with. "Your brother has been in an accident." "Who the heck is this?" "Leona. We—" "What happened?" "It was a car accident." "God!" His breathing picked up, and I could tell that he was on the move. "Where are you, Leo?" Leo? I could hear the frown in his voice. "Down on the old farmer's road by the abandoned Kent farm." "Have you called 911?" "He, ah, asked me to call you first." "Call for an ambulance," he growled. "We're on our way." He hung up and I met the slightly dazed eyes of the man on the ground. His lips were pressed tightly together, an indication that he was in pain. I dialed 911, gave directions, and then hung up. "Are you in any pain?" I realized how stupid that sounded, but felt that conversation would keep him from passing out on me. He groaned. "God, lady, I hit a tree." His brown eyes moved over me as he tried to sit up. "Nice boyfriend you have, leaving you to fend for yourself." I wasn't about to inform him that Ron was my reckless, chicken-hearted eighteen-year-old brother. The less I said about him, the better. I watched him struggle for a minute before I bent to help him into a sitting position against the tree. "Do you feel like anything is broken?" He shook his head. "Just had the wind knocked out of me." "You might have a concussion," I offered when he brought his hand up to his head. He brought his hand down and looked at the blood. "Been worse." His gaze fell on his bike. He groaned. "Bike's history." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "My name is Leona." "Heard when you were talking to Eagle." He tried to stretch his leg out and winced in pain. "Thanks for staying. Name's Brew." Brew? Maybe it was short for something. I could hear motorcycles approaching in the distance. "That was fast," I murmured. "Clubhouse is just down the road," he explained. I knew the only thing down the road was Toby's salvage yard because we'd passed it earlier. Ron had told me that it had been sold a while back. "You must be the new owners." He groaned and laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "Yeah." I could tell that he didn't want to talk. I wished that there was something more I could do and was thankful when several motorcycles crested the hill in the distance, racing our way. The closer they got, the more nervous I got. The four men were big and kind of frightening-looking. They pulled up next to us, gravel and rocks crunching beneath the tires of their huge bikes. I stood up next to Brew's head as they rushed over to us. "The God, Brother, what happened?" The one asking the question crouched next to Brew. He glanced up at me. "You with him?" He was a formidable sight. His short hair matched the scruff on his tight jaw. Beautiful gray eyes peered up at me as he waited for an answer. There was a black tattoo around his thickly corded neck and down his left arm, his sleeveless shirt and cut revealing how muscular his arms were. I hadn't had the chance to get an idea of his height when he'd first arrived, but I could tell that he was built solid beneath his clothes. His faded jeans stretched tightly over his thighs. "No," I managed to get out from beneath his intense stare. "I, um, was in the car—" "Where the heck is it?" one of the other guys asked. They scanned the area before pinning their frowns back on me. "Gone," Brew muttered, drawing gray eyes back to him. For the first time I noticed that he was holding his left side. He'd grown paler. I was glad that I could hear the ambulance coming. "prick took off." Gray Eyes swung his gaze back up to me. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You want to tell me who he is?" Not really. I sensed it would be bad for Ron. Gray Eyes looked like he wanted to hurt someone. "Black Camaro," Brew uttered in a weakening voice. "We passed a Camaro," a tall blonde barked. The four men swapped looks, and Gray Eyes gave a jerk of his head. "Go." "Wait!" I called out as three of them turned at once to head for their bikes. "Are you going to hurt him? It was an accident!" Brew snorted. I knew that I was stretching the truth, but I didn't like the looks on their rugged faces. Gray Eyes stood up. "An accident, huh?" He was taller than I'd expected. "Why'd he run off then?" I swallowed, stepping back so I wouldn't have to crane my neck so much. "He was, um, afraid." "What kind of chicken mess leaves his girlfriend to handle his mess?" Yeah, chicken mess, that was my brother. I stared into the guy's beautiful eyes and took a calming breath. He crossed his arms in a move that could have been taken as threatening. "You gonna tell me who the heck he is?" I shook my head. "Not if you're going to hurt him." His brows shot up. "Hit and run." I silently agreed with him that it looked bad. "You don't think he deserves to pay for hitting someone and leaving them on the side of a road? For leaving his woman to face the consequences?" What? "Why should I face the consequences? I wasn't driving. And I stayed behind to help your friend." "Brother." He sucked in a deep breath and released it through his nose like an angry bull. I got the sense that he didn't like the fact that I wasn't cooperating. He leaned in close and muttered the words, "I want a name." I leaned back nervously, a little frightened by his imposing stature. I didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of man he was, or what he was capable of doing. He might be good to look at, but everything else about him was big and hard and kind of scary. "Don't scare her, Eagle." Eagle turned his head to look at Brew, then turned it back to pin those quick-silver eyes on me. He wanted a name? Playing stupid, I gave him a name. "Leona." Eagle God, she was cute, but I didn't have time to pursue my interest when Brew was groaning in pain. There was no telling how severe his injuries were. His bike was toast, the twisted, broken metal showing how hard he must have hit the tree against which he was resting. I was glad to see the ambulance come up over the hill. I narrowed my gaze on Leo, trying to intimidate her into telling me who the driver of the car that had hit Brew had been. I was good at intimidating people, especially civilians, but she was holding strong, standing there as if she could stare me down and win. Whoever the guy was, I knew he must be someone special to her. She was protecting him. Well, that was too bad. For her. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had a name. Whoever had hit Brew and then taken off was going to pay, one way or another. Soldiers of Retribution hadn't earned their name from ignoring the wrongs done to the club or its members, but I decided to let it go for now. When the ambulance pulled over and two EMTs jumped out, I stood out of the way. "What happened?" one of them asked. I glanced down at Brew. He'd grown pale and was close to losing consciousness. He didn't look capable of answering any questions, so I turned my attention to Leo, crossed my arms and raised a brow. "It was a car accident," she said. "I think he hit the tree headfirst." God, I thought. Brew was lucky to be alive. For the first time I noticed that his brain bucket was cracked and shattered. "Get the cervical collar," one EMT said to the other. "Did anyone call the sheriff?" "The chicken-mess driver drove off," I responded, getting a glare from Leo. Regret filled her eyes, but she kept them focused on mine without fear. "Hit and run? God!" A few minutes passed as they took Brew's vitals and fitted him with a neck brace. Then the one who'd retrieved the neck brace returned to the ambulance and came back with a stretcher. He lowered it to the ground, they carefully lifted Brew on top of it, and then raised it again. "We're taking him to Mid-Coast." I nodded. "He wakes, tell him his brothers will be there soon." I waited until he acknowledged that he'd heard me before turning back to the woman. "I want the name of the driver." She took a breath, which did wonders for her boobs when they stretched against the tee she was wearing. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her jaw just enough to let me know she was going to remain stubborn. "I'm sorry, I can't do that unless you promise not to hurt him." I frowned. "He someone special to you?" "Yes." "Boyfriend?" "No." That was all she offered. "God, woman." I was getting angry over our word play. I noticed that the change in my tone of voice caused her to take a little step back, and, using her fear to my advantage, I moved toward her menacingly. For every step I took closer to her she took one backwards. I almost grinned when her eyes began darting around the area as if she were looking for someone to help her. "You know who we are?" "I've heard of you." "Then you know we're the good guys." A burst of laughter escaped her. "It doesn't look like it right now." "You think this is funny?" She shook her head. "No!" Her backside came up against the tree Brew had slammed into, the breath rushing from between her parted lips. "I tend to laugh when I get nervous. And you're scaring me." "Oh, yeah?" I stopped when I was almost flush against her. A deep breath would have had me brushing against her boobs. "I can scare you a lot more if you don't give me what I want." "I don't appreciate you threatening me. I stayed with your brother. Made the calls for help. Is this how you repay an innocent bystander?" "You're hardly a bystander." I noticed the green of her eyes had little flakes of gold in them, and her lashes were thick and long, natural. The same color as her chestnut hair. I fought to keep from touching the silky waves, realizing that my thoughts of Brew were dulling and being replaced with inappropriate thoughts about Leo. "And I doubt anything about you is innocent." My gaze dropped to her lips, which were covered with a thin gloss. They were plump and tempting. God... My phone vibrated and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for the interruption. It was Lynx. "Did you catch up to him?" "No. He must have turned off somewhere." I kept my eyes on Leo's. "Head to Mid-Coast then. I'll meet you there." "Got it." Once he was off, I hit Wolfe's number. He started right in with, "Buck already called, Brother. You get the name of the driver from the witness?" My lips turned down, frustration evident in my tone, "No. She's not cooperating." "She still with you?" "Yup." "Bring her to the clubhouse. She goes nowhere until we get to the truth. For all we know this could be connected to those pricks the Maniacs and the trouble that went down in New York." I sucked in a deep breath because I sensed that this wasn't going to go over particularly well with the woman. Wolfe was right though--we needed to make sure that Brew hadn't been targeted because he used to ride with the Maniacs. Little Miss Leo may have been innocent, but whoever had been driving that car wasn't, and she was protecting them. "Will do." Wolfe hung up, but I pretended that I was still talking to him. "I'll lock her hip up in the basement." The clubhouse didn't have a basement, but Leo didn't know that. I'd said that part for her, rewarded when worry filled her eyes and she turned pale when she realized I was talking about her. I grinned, enjoying the color of alarm on her pretty face. "Looks like you're coming with me, darlin'." She shook her head and looked like she was going to bolt. "Look around you, Leo. You see anyone else you can hitch a ride with?" "God," I heard her low murmur. "My mama taught me to never go off with strangers. I'll walk." Knowing the area, I snorted. The clubhouse was down the road, about half a mile. After that it was a couple of miles to reach Georgetown. "It's settled then. You're coming with me." "So you can lock me up somewhere? I don't think so." She sank away from me as I stepped closer. I saw her wince as the bark of the tree dug into her back. "You ready to tell me who you're protecting?" She didn't respond but I could see the stubbornness in her eyes. "Then you have two choices. You can either sit behind me and hold on, or I'll put you in front of me and trust me, you won't like what you feel." She blinked. And blinked some more. My grin was suggestive, and once she figured out what I meant, she blushed and stuttered, "Y-You're a pig!" I shrugged. "Just being truthful. I'm a hip man and having one up against me gets me hard." I paused to emphasize. "Every time." I turned and headed for my bike with a grin on my face. "Better make up your mind, before I make it up for you." I climbed on and sat there waiting. I was surprised at the patience I was showing when I wasn't normally a patient man. Only I'd underestimated her stubbornness, and perseverance. When a car crested the hill, her eyes lit up, and I knew instinctively what she was going to do. She was going to cause trouble, that's what. She stepped away from the tree and headed toward the road excitedly. I jumped off my bike and intercepted her. I caught her up against me. "Let me go!" she demanded. The feel of her soft boobs rubbing against me reminded me that I'd been getting a oral job from Jezzie before we'd been interrupted by Leo's call. I still had a slight buzz from that. I inhaled Leo's intoxicating scent, something sweet and fresh, and exotic. The interest I'd pushed aside earlier came back with a vengeance. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and I gave in to a need I didn't know I had. I wanted to find out if her plump lips were as soft as they looked. I had to taste her. I slammed my mouth down on hers and pecked her hard. Leo struggled to get away for a second before it turned into something different and then she pecked me back. The small hands that had been pushing against my chest were now fisting my cut and holding me tightly. Her sweet mouth moved hungrily against mine, her moans of submission music to my ears. When our tongues meshed, all warm and wet, I lost it. The groan that escaped me sounded like one coming from a bear. An unexplainable need of arousal uncurled in my gut as my shaft rose to the occasion. Jesus, I should feel guilty for getting so turned on by Leo when Jillian was the one that I wanted. Jillian was the woman I'd been watching and waiting to make a move on, but the timing had never seemed right. Friends. We were still just friends. This woman meant nothing to me and yet having her in my arms was making me feel everything. The car's horn should have startled us apart. I reminded myself why I was pecking her in the first place and pulled away, anger close to the surface. Anger at myself for feeling guilty over how much I liked pecking Leo. I shouldn't like pecking another woman. God, I didn't even peck the sweet tarts. I slept them, though. I had needs and they were there for relief, and that was all. Until I made Jillian mine. God! I glared down at the little spitfire in my arms. She was flushed with heat, her eyes glossy. Her lips were swollen and wet. I'd done that to her, and I wondered what she saw on my face. God, I should never have pecked her, but the situation had called for drastic measures. To make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I curled my hand around the softness of her upper arm and pulled her with me. "Come on." She tried to pull away and I swung on her like a vicious dog. "I'm done!" I snarled in her face. She flinched but I kept going. "Now get your hip on my bike!" She stared at me for a minute and then wordlessly went to my bike. I waited for her to climb on before joining her. "You ever ridden before?" I swung my leg over. "No." "We don't have far to go. Just hold on and lean into any turns I take." I waited for her to wrap her arms around me, but it never happened. Her little hands tentatively clutched at my sides. I started my bike and reached down for her hands, wrapping her arms around me. I ignored her huff and crossed one hand over the other. "Don't let go." "Don't worry," came her snarky response. "I'm looking forward to being locked up in the basement." Grinning, I took off.
"Tomorrow YOU'RE picking Harper up, but don't take her to the wedding. Take her straight to the Harringtons." The night before my wedding, I caught my fiancé talking to his buddy: "Celia's family's broke. Her parents are gonna sell her to some old dude to pay it off." "I can't just sit there and watch her get screwed over. So Harper's taking her spot." His buddy sounded stunned: "Wait—isn't that guy like ninety? Dude, you can't be serious—" "Chill. He's not gonna make it much longer." "When he kicks it, I don't care if Harper's technically a widow. I'll still marry her." I stood there and listened to every word. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just went back to my room and waited for tomorrow. But later, when Trent showed up begging to get back together, I was five months pregnant: "Like you said—game over. No way out." 9 PM. The rehearsal dinner was already running an hour late. Trent finally rolled up with his crew, Celia tagging along behind him. The second she saw me standing at the altar in my dress, the tears started. "Harper, oh my god, I'm so jealous! You get to marry the guy you love. You're so freaking lucky!" "Not like me—my parents are literally selling me off to some ninety-year-old guy just to pay their debts." "But thank god," she dabbed at her eyes, shooting Trent this loaded look, "someone secretly got me a marriage license today. So that old creep can't have me now." Hearing that smug tone, I went completely still. I thought the bride swap was gonna be the worst part. Turns out Trent had already made it legal with her. My best friend Quinn—tomorrow's maid of honor—didn't know the full story yet, but she'd definitely heard about Celia's "legendary bullsh!t." She leaned in and hissed: "What's SHE even doing here?" "And the fake crying? Is she seriously trying to curse your wedding or what?" "It's okay." I patted Quinn's hand. Tomorrow's wedding wasn't happening anyway. This whole thing was just an act—one big performance for tomorrow's bait-and-switch. The officiant looked at me with this awkward smile: "Miss Reid, since the groom's here now, should we go ahead and start the rehearsal?" But Trent's brow furrowed slightly. "It's getting late. Harper's been running around all day—she's gotta be exhausted." "Let's just skip the run-through. You can walk us through it, yeah?" The officiant glanced between him and me, but before he could say anything, Celia's eyes lit up. She practically skipped over to Trent, batting her lashes: "Oh! I know—how about I stand in for Harper?" "That way she won't be tired. What do you think?" Trent didn't even glance my way. "Perfect. Let's do that." "That b!tch—" Quinn started rolling up her sleeves, ready to fight. I caught her arm smoothly. Whispered: "Not yet. I'll explain everything." I pulled her down from the platform into the front row, then nodded at the officiant: "Let's go with what my fiancé said." Quinn was fuming but sat down, teeth clenched. The music started—our song. The one Trent and I had picked when we first got together. "Made for Each Other" When I was twelve, my parents died in a car crash. The shock sent me into hiding—I disappeared into the woods behind our house for three whole days. No food. No water. Trent was the one who found me. He carried my half-dead body home on his back. Then held my bony hand and promised: "Harper, from now on my home is your home. My parents are your parents." "Don't be scared. I'm here. I'll always protect you." So when we fell in love years later, I genuinely believed fate brought us together. That destiny tangled us up. That we were made for each other. Then Celia showed up. And everything started falling apart... Celia was Trent's boss's daughter. For the past two years, Trent kept using the same excuse: "Can't piss off the boss's daughter." So I had to give way to her. Over and over. My work projects—handed to her. My cat—given to her. Clothes and jewelry I loved—all hers. And what'd she do with them? Took my proposals, presented them as her own, got promoted, then stuck me with the nastiest grunt work. Said she'd take care of my cat while I was away, then went on a ten-day vacation and left it to die of dehydration on her balcony. The clothes and jewelry Trent bought me? Once they were in her hands, she'd rip them to shreds, smash them to pieces—anything to make sure they'd never come back to me. And now that same person was linking arms with Trent, walking toward the altar to our song. Be lying if I said it didn't hurt. My heart was already shattered into a million pieces on the floor. I just didn't have the energy to pick them up anymore. Quinn's grip on my hand got tighter and tighter, yanking me back from memory lane. I turned to look at her. Her eyes were red. Mine probably were too. "Quinn, tomorrow... he's NOT marrying me anymore..." "I'm taking Celia's place. Marrying into the Harrington family." Her eyes went huge. Her mouth opened like she was about to say something, but I gently shook my head: "The Morrisons raised me for twelve years. I'm treating this like payback. After this, we're even. Done." Quinn glared viciously at the two people on the altar—holding hands, facing each other, about to say their vows. Then she turned back to me, eyes full of grief: "Harper... is this even worth it?" "I, Trent Morrison, take you, Celia Lawson, to be my lawfully wedded wife." "I will love you, comfort you, honor you, and protect you—" Ha. He said Celia's name. Guess he actually meant every word this time. I forced a small smile at Quinn: "Worth it? Doesn't matter anymore." "As long as I can get away from Trent—completely, finally get away—I'll do anything." "I do! For better or worse, in sickness and in health, from this day forward, till death do us part, I will cherish you forever—Trent Morrison!" The officiant—probably the first time he'd ever seen something like this—just froze, totally blanked on what to do next. Quinn scowled and snapped at him: "Well? Tell the groom to kiss the bride! What're you waiting for?" "I now pronounce you husband and wife. The groom may—" Before he could finish, Trent was already kissing her. Intense. Passionate. Absolutely revolting. The officiant looked over at me, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief: "Um... Miss Reid..." Suddenly Trent je//rked back and spun around. "Harper! Don't get the wrong idea... I just got too into it. I thought it was you..." I smiled faintly. "It's fine." But the second half I only said to myself— You're betraying me. Making me take her place. But as long as we're done for good, I can accept anything. Everything's fine. The rehearsal ended in this thick cloud of awkwardness. Even the officiant let out this huge breath of relief when he left. Outside, Trent opened the passenger door for Celia, even leaning in to buckle her seatbelt himself. Only then did he turn around to say goodbye to me: "Get some good rest tonight. Ethan's picking you up tomorrow." "Okay." I smiled and waved, still playing the clueless bride-to-be excitedly waiting for her big day. Later that night, I tossed and turned, couldn't sleep. Around midnight, Quinn texted me: [I'm home. You absolutely sure you're gonna be okay tomorrow alone? I'm seriously freaking out here.] Quinn wasn't coming to the wedding anymore—I'd told her not to. After the rehearsal, she wanted to come stay with me. But knowing what was coming tomorrow, I really didn't want her getting dragged into this mess. So I kept reassuring her I'd be fine, then watched her get in a cab. Thinking about that, I texted back: [Relax. If anything crazy happens, you're my first call, okay? You BETTER come save me! That's an order, boss!] Half-joking like that finally got her to ease up a bit. [You're such a dum//bass! Fine, I'll wait for your text. Get some sleep, it's late. Night.] [Night.] The next morning, I walked out in my wedding dress. All by myself. Ethan's car was already waiting outside. When he saw me, his expression looked... off. Uncomfortable. I knew he felt guilty. But he was just a loyal guy following orders. Trent's family was Ethan's family's biggest client—basically their entire livelihood. If Ethan didn't do what Trent said, the consequences would be brutal. "Harper, you look gorgeous." "Thanks." I nodded and slid into the backseat. The car started moving. Outside the window, scenery flew backward. After passing two intersections, the car started heading in the opposite direction from the hotel. Ethan kept nervously checking me in the rearview mirror. I pretended not to notice and picked up my phone. Ding. A message came through. From Celia. [Harper! Trent just gave me this amazing present! He said if I wear it to the wedding, I'll look absolutely stunning~ Don't you think it's gorgeous?] I stared at the emerald jade bracelet in the photo, and my whole body went cold. That bracelet was my mom's—the only thing she left me. Passed down from my great-grandmother. Back then I was too young, so Mrs. Morrison had kept it safe for me. They'd promised—sworn—they'd give it back on my wedding day. How could he just hand it over to Celia like that? My hands shaking, I called Trent. "Trent." I steadied myself, voice ice-cold: "How DARE you give my mother's bracelet to Celia? That's MINE!" "Come on, it's just a bracelet." On the other end, Trent sounded totally casual: "Celia liked it, so just let her have it. Whatever bracelet you want, I can buy you later—" "She likes it, so I have to give her everything?!" "The rehearsal. The bracelet. My husband. And now... I have to take her place marrying some old man?!" Trent went silent. Then: "Wait... you already know?" After a brief silence, he tried reasoning with me: "Harper, look, that old Harrington guy is ninety. He can't even function anymore. He's not gonna do anything to you. This whole marriage thing is just for show." "Celia saved my life. She's so young. I can't just stand by and watch her life get destroyed." Saved his life? "Harper, I only got that license with Celia to keep her parents from selling her off to pay their debts." "Once her family's mess blows over, once the old guy dies, I'll bring you home. We can make everything go back to how it was. Trust me, okay?" "I DON'T NEED YOU TO!!" I couldn't hold back the rage anymore. I screamed: "Trent, I want my mother's bracelet back. Give me back what's MINE—" Before I could finish, Trent hung up. Listening to that dead dial tone, my heart hit rock bottom. Right at that moment, a semi-truck ahead suddenly flipped, triggering a massive chain reaction pileup. Ethan was so desperate to get me to the Harringtons, to get this whole thing over with, that he couldn't brake in time. We slammed straight into the car ahead of us. Next second—BANG! Another car crashed into us from behind. Our car was instantly crushed between two vehicles. Because Ethan had instinctively je//rked the steering wheel, his driver's side door wasn't completely mangled. But I was pinned in the backseat, completely unable to move. He jumped out of the car, desperately yanking at the twisted door, but it was useless. BOOM! Another massive explosion—the overturned truck suddenly burst into flames, only three cars away from us. Ethan totally panicked, clutching his head. Run? I was still trapped in the car—a living, breathing person. Stay? The fire was huge, spreading fast. Soon he'd be dead too. "I'LL GO GET HELP!!" Like he'd made some kind of decision, he turned and sprinted toward the back of the pileup. Watching people scatter and run through the window, hearing the ear-piercing screams and crying. I suddenly went... calm. It's okay. As long as I can finally, completely get away from Trent. Everything's okay...
"Tomorrow YOU'RE picking Harper up, but don't take her to the wedding. Take her straight to the Harringtons." The night before my wedding, I caught my fiancé talking to his buddy: "Celia's family's broke. Her parents are gonna sell her to some old dude to pay it off." "I can't just sit there and watch her get screwed over. So Harper's taking her spot." His buddy sounded stunned: "Wait—isn't that guy like ninety? Dude, you can't be serious—" "Chill. He's not gonna make it much longer." "When he kicks it, I don't care if Harper's technically a widow. I'll still marry her." I stood there and listened to every word. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. Just went back to my room and waited for tomorrow. But later, when Trent showed up begging to get back together, I was five months pregnant: "Like you said—game over. No way out." 9 PM. The rehearsal dinner was already running an hour late. Trent finally rolled up with his crew, Celia tagging along behind him. The second she saw me standing at the altar in my dress, the tears started. "Harper, oh my god, I'm so jealous! You get to marry the guy you love. You're so freaking lucky!" "Not like me—my parents are literally selling me off to some ninety-year-old guy just to pay their debts." "But thank god," she dabbed at her eyes, shooting Trent this loaded look, "someone secretly got me a marriage license today. So that old creep can't have me now." Hearing that smug tone, I went completely still. I thought the bride swap was gonna be the worst part. Turns out Trent had already made it legal with her. My best friend Quinn—tomorrow's maid of honor—didn't know the full story yet, but she'd definitely heard about Celia's "legendary bullsh!t." She leaned in and hissed: "What's SHE even doing here?" "And the fake crying? Is she seriously trying to curse your wedding or what?" "It's okay." I patted Quinn's hand. Tomorrow's wedding wasn't happening anyway. This whole thing was just an act—one big performance for tomorrow's bait-and-switch. The officiant looked at me with this awkward smile: "Miss Reid, since the groom's here now, should we go ahead and start the rehearsal?" But Trent's brow furrowed slightly. "It's getting late. Harper's been running around all day—she's gotta be exhausted." "Let's just skip the run-through. You can walk us through it, yeah?" The officiant glanced between him and me, but before he could say anything, Celia's eyes lit up. She practically skipped over to Trent, batting her lashes: "Oh! I know—how about I stand in for Harper?" "That way she won't be tired. What do you think?" Trent didn't even glance my way. "Perfect. Let's do that." "That b!tch—" Quinn started rolling up her sleeves, ready to fight. I caught her arm smoothly. Whispered: "Not yet. I'll explain everything." I pulled her down from the platform into the front row, then nodded at the officiant: "Let's go with what my fiancé said." Quinn was fuming but sat down, teeth clenched. The music started—our song. The one Trent and I had picked when we first got together. "Made for Each Other" When I was twelve, my parents died in a car crash. The shock sent me into hiding—I disappeared into the woods behind our house for three whole days. No food. No water. Trent was the one who found me. He carried my half-dead body home on his back. Then held my bony hand and promised: "Harper, from now on my home is your home. My parents are your parents." "Don't be scared. I'm here. I'll always protect you." So when we fell in love years later, I genuinely believed fate brought us together. That destiny tangled us up. That we were made for each other. Then Celia showed up. And everything started falling apart... Celia was Trent's boss's daughter. For the past two years, Trent kept using the same excuse: "Can't piss off the boss's daughter." So I had to give way to her. Over and over. My work projects—handed to her. My cat—given to her. Clothes and jewelry I loved—all hers. And what'd she do with them? Took my proposals, presented them as her own, got promoted, then stuck me with the nastiest grunt work. Said she'd take care of my cat while I was away, then went on a ten-day vacation and left it to die of dehydration on her balcony. The clothes and jewelry Trent bought me? Once they were in her hands, she'd rip them to shreds, smash them to pieces—anything to make sure they'd never come back to me. And now that same person was linking arms with Trent, walking toward the altar to our song. Be lying if I said it didn't hurt. My heart was already shattered into a million pieces on the floor. I just didn't have the energy to pick them up anymore. Quinn's grip on my hand got tighter and tighter, yanking me back from memory lane. I turned to look at her. Her eyes were red. Mine probably were too. "Quinn, tomorrow... he's NOT marrying me anymore..." "I'm taking Celia's place. Marrying into the Harrington family." Her eyes went huge. Her mouth opened like she was about to say something, but I gently shook my head: "The Morrisons raised me for twelve years. I'm treating this like payback. After this, we're even. Done." Quinn glared viciously at the two people on the altar—holding hands, facing each other, about to say their vows. Then she turned back to me, eyes full of grief: "Harper... is this even worth it?" "I, Trent Morrison, take you, Celia Lawson, to be my lawfully wedded wife." "I will love you, comfort you, honor you, and protect you—" Ha. He said Celia's name. Guess he actually meant every word this time. I forced a small smile at Quinn: "Worth it? Doesn't matter anymore." "As long as I can get away from Trent—completely, finally get away—I'll do anything." "I do! For better or worse, in sickness and in health, from this day forward, till death do us part, I will cherish you forever—Trent Morrison!" The officiant—probably the first time he'd ever seen something like this—just froze, totally blanked on what to do next. Quinn scowled and snapped at him: "Well? Tell the groom to kiss the bride! What're you waiting for?" "I now pronounce you husband and wife. The groom may—" Before he could finish, Trent was already kissing her. Intense. Passionate. Absolutely revolting. The officiant looked over at me, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief: "Um... Miss Reid..." Suddenly Trent je//rked back and spun around. "Harper! Don't get the wrong idea... I just got too into it. I thought it was you..." I smiled faintly. "It's fine." But the second half I only said to myself— You're betraying me. Making me take her place. But as long as we're done for good, I can accept anything. Everything's fine. The rehearsal ended in this thick cloud of awkwardness. Even the officiant let out this huge breath of relief when he left. Outside, Trent opened the passenger door for Celia, even leaning in to buckle her seatbelt himself. Only then did he turn around to say goodbye to me: "Get some good rest tonight. Ethan's picking you up tomorrow." "Okay." I smiled and waved, still playing the clueless bride-to-be excitedly waiting for her big day. Later that night, I tossed and turned, couldn't sleep. Around midnight, Quinn texted me: [I'm home. You absolutely sure you're gonna be okay tomorrow alone? I'm seriously freaking out here.] Quinn wasn't coming to the wedding anymore—I'd told her not to. After the rehearsal, she wanted to come stay with me. But knowing what was coming tomorrow, I really didn't want her getting dragged into this mess. So I kept reassuring her I'd be fine, then watched her get in a cab. Thinking about that, I texted back: [Relax. If anything crazy happens, you're my first call, okay? You BETTER come save me! That's an order, boss!] Half-joking like that finally got her to ease up a bit. [You're such a dum//bass! Fine, I'll wait for your text. Get some sleep, it's late. Night.] [Night.] The next morning, I walked out in my wedding dress. All by myself. Ethan's car was already waiting outside. When he saw me, his expression looked... off. Uncomfortable. I knew he felt guilty. But he was just a loyal guy following orders. Trent's family was Ethan's family's biggest client—basically their entire livelihood. If Ethan didn't do what Trent said, the consequences would be brutal. "Harper, you look gorgeous." "Thanks." I nodded and slid into the backseat. The car started moving. Outside the window, scenery flew backward. After passing two intersections, the car started heading in the opposite direction from the hotel. Ethan kept nervously checking me in the rearview mirror. I pretended not to notice and picked up my phone. Ding. A message came through. From Celia. [Harper! Trent just gave me this amazing present! He said if I wear it to the wedding, I'll look absolutely stunning~ Don't you think it's gorgeous?] I stared at the emerald jade bracelet in the photo, and my whole body went cold. That bracelet was my mom's—the only thing she left me. Passed down from my great-grandmother. Back then I was too young, so Mrs. Morrison had kept it safe for me. They'd promised—sworn—they'd give it back on my wedding day. How could he just hand it over to Celia like that? My hands shaking, I called Trent. "Trent." I steadied myself, voice ice-cold: "How DARE you give my mother's bracelet to Celia? That's MINE!" "Come on, it's just a bracelet." On the other end, Trent sounded totally casual: "Celia liked it, so just let her have it. Whatever bracelet you want, I can buy you later—" "She likes it, so I have to give her everything?!" "The rehearsal. The bracelet. My husband. And now... I have to take her place marrying some old man?!" Trent went silent. Then: "Wait... you already know?" After a brief silence, he tried reasoning with me: "Harper, look, that old Harrington guy is ninety. He can't even function anymore. He's not gonna do anything to you. This whole marriage thing is just for show." "Celia saved my life. She's so young. I can't just stand by and watch her life get destroyed." Saved his life? "Harper, I only got that license with Celia to keep her parents from selling her off to pay their debts." "Once her family's mess blows over, once the old guy dies, I'll bring you home. We can make everything go back to how it was. Trust me, okay?" "I DON'T NEED YOU TO!!" I couldn't hold back the rage anymore. I screamed: "Trent, I want my mother's bracelet back. Give me back what's MINE—" Before I could finish, Trent hung up. Listening to that dead dial tone, my heart hit rock bottom. Right at that moment, a semi-truck ahead suddenly flipped, triggering a massive chain reaction pileup. Ethan was so desperate to get me to the Harringtons, to get this whole thing over with, that he couldn't brake in time. We slammed straight into the car ahead of us. Next second—BANG! Another car crashed into us from behind. Our car was instantly crushed between two vehicles. Because Ethan had instinctively je//rked the steering wheel, his driver's side door wasn't completely mangled. But I was pinned in the backseat, completely unable to move. He jumped out of the car, desperately yanking at the twisted door, but it was useless. BOOM! Another massive explosion—the overturned truck suddenly burst into flames, only three cars away from us. Ethan totally panicked, clutching his head. Run? I was still trapped in the car—a living, breathing person. Stay? The fire was huge, spreading fast. Soon he'd be dead too. "I'LL GO GET HELP!!" Like he'd made some kind of decision, he turned and sprinted toward the back of the pileup. Watching people scatter and run through the window, hearing the ear-piercing screams and crying. I suddenly went... calm. It's okay. As long as I can finally, completely get away from Trent. Everything's okay...
💔He took my vrrg!nity... then said, "I'm a werewolf. This isn't going to work." 🚗So I ran desperately. Pregnant. Alone. His texts? "Get an ab0rtion. I don't want a half-breed." 🌙Then I walked into a small-town diner. Where a cowboy with sky-blue eyes sat down across from me. Tanned skin. Tattoos. Hands that looked like they could break a man in half. He leaned in close. "What pack are you running from?" I froze. "I'm... human." He smiled. Slow. Dangerous. "Then why do you smell like one of us?" 🐺Dane Black. Alpha. And the way he looks at me? Like I'm already HIS. Without thinking, I slipped my hand onto my belly...
"Slow down or we're going to have an accident!" I screamed as my brother swerved around the semi, just as a biker crested the hill, heading straight for us. Then everything went black. When I wake up, I'm staring into the stormy eyes of Eagle, VP of the Soldiers of Retribution MC. My reckless brother fled the crash, leaving me to face the consequences. Now Eagle's demanding answers, his grip bruising my arm. "Give me the driver's name," he growls, but I can't betray my own brother, even if he abandoned me. Trapped in their clubhouse, I expect violence. Instead, I get something worse: a peck that sears my soul. Eagle's touch ignites a fire I can't control, even as his threats send chills down my spine. The Soldiers don't take betrayal lightly, and my loyalty to Ron might cost me everything—including my heart. ——————— Leona "Slow down or we're going to have an accident." My brother, Ron, was all over the road and getting on my last nerve. He was a reckless driver by choice, so I knew that my words were wasted, but someday he was going to regret not listening to me. "Relax, Sis." He swerved around another vehicle, which were far and few on the country road, and I clutched the dashboard to keep from being thrown against the door. "I've never had an accident." I rolled my eyes. Never say never, I wanted to tell him. "Yet," I stressed with a tight mouth. We were coming up fast on a semi, a rare sight on this road, and I held my breath, waiting for Ron's next move. It was a two-lane country road and there was a hill ahead of us. "What the heck are you doing?" I cried out when Ron pulled into the oncoming lane. I glared at him as if he were crazy, which he was. "Ron!" I screamed, panicked. "It's clear," he laughed my concern away. "I checked. See?" It was clear, and he accelerated to go around the semi. Just as we were even with the cab of the truck we were trying to pass, a motorcycle crested the hill, coming from the opposite direction, and headed straight for us. I let out a scream when I realized that our only course was to back off and move back behind the semi again. "Ron?" I said in a warning tone when it didn't appear that he was slowing down. "I got time!" I stared at the road ahead of us, my eyes rounding in fear as the motorcyclist got closer. "Ron!" This wasn't happening! "We're going to hit him!" Panic overwhelmed me as our window of making a life-saving decision narrowed. My gaze focused on the biker. I couldn't see his face because of his visor, but I got the sense that he was braking. Because of the speed he was going his bike wobbled slightly and I gasped, thinking that I was about to see him lose control. His options weren't great. "Ron..." My heart moved up into my throat. I was certain that I was about to see a man die, and in a horrible way. "God!" Ron cursed, finally realizing that he wasn't going to make it. He slammed on the brakes, allowing the semi to continue past us, but it was too late for the biker. Everything happened in a blur after that. Ron swore again. I screamed and braced myself. The motorcyclist veered off the road, losing control on the gravel shoulder and skidding into the wet grass. I turned in my seat to watch where he ended up, crying out when his bike slammed into a small tree. "Ohmygod! Stop the car!" I demanded as Ron continued down the road, along with the semi, each of them acting as if nothing had happened. "Ron, stop the car!" I grabbed at the door handle, fully prepared to exit the moving vehicle. "He could be hurt!" He could be dead! In sheer desperation I grabbed the wheel. Cursing beneath his breath, Ron swerved over to the shoulder, braking hard enough to send me slamming into the dash. He glared at me, I glared back, his mouth opening as if to say something. "Don't say a word, dumbhip!" I swore as I opened the door and jumped out. I ran to the biker. His bike had hit the tree head on, and it was obvious that he'd been thrown. The bike was destroyed. I only prayed that the man had survived. I crouched down next to him, taking note of the twisted way in which he was resting on the damp ground. Oh my God! "Is he okay?" I could hear the nervousness in Ron's voice as he hovered close by. "It was a accident!" he whined. "He should have slowed down!" He was already making excuses for his bad behavior, one of his familiar traits. "You were the one in the wrong!" I snapped, shooting him a look of anger. I was so mad I was shaking. A low moan indicated that the man on the ground was alive. "Help me turn him over. And be careful!" When Ron didn't move, I glanced back at him. He was slowly backing up, a look of horror on his thin face. He shook his head. "No..." His eyes met mine. "Do you know who he is? He's with the Soldiers of Retribution!" The fear in his wild eyes held me momentarily frozen. I'd heard of the local MC, had seen them riding around town, but had never been close to any of them. I returned my gaze to the motionless man on the ground, taking in the words on the back of his leather jacket. "So?" I said after a while. "He's hurt. We have to help him." Ron continued to shake his head, his backward steps never faltering as they took him back to his car. "Come on. We have to leave him. They'll kill us..." I snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Get a grip, Ron. It was an accident, as you pointed out. We're not going to leave an injured man on the side of the road. It could be hours before anyone else comes along. Now help me turn him over so I can see how hurt he is." Ron hesitated and then reluctantly walked back to me. Together we managed to turn the huge man over until he was on his back. His low groan of pain sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted his cracked visor to get a look at his face. "Okay, we've turned him over, now let's go." "Are you serious right now? Jesus, Ron!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving him!" I said harshly, running my eyes over the man as I tried to assess his injuries. The blood on his forehead and the side of his face revealed that he had a head injury. "We have to go!" Ron reached down, grabbed my arm, and tried to haul me to my feet. "Before anyone comes!" "What is wrong with you?" I snarled, jerking my arm away and falling back to the ground. "Call an ambulance!" The man groaned again, louder this time. "After we leave here, we'll call for an ambulance. You don't want to get on the bad side of the Soldiers." "Then you go!" I yelled, furious and fed up with him. I wasn't familiar with the reputation of the Soldiers of Retribution, but I'd never seen or heard anything negative about them. In fact, just the opposite. But something had my brother spooked. "I'll call you when I get home." I couldn't keep the disgust out of my tone. I returned my attention to the man on the ground and caught my breath. His eyes were open and he was staring up at me, pain etched on his chiseled features. He wet his lips. "Can you move?" I asked him worriedly. "God, that hurt." He ignored me. "Call..." For the first time I noticed that he'd reached for something in his jacket and was struggling to get it out. Behind me I heard Ron take off. I shook my head with deep disappointment and realized that his running away was only going to cause him more problems. "Here, let me." I gently moved the man's hand aside and dug out his phone. "Who do you want me to call?" He started to say something, cleared his throat, and whispered, "Eagle..." "Eagle. Okay." I went down his contact list until I found Eagle and hit his number. "Shouldn't I call 911, too?" I caught the slight nod of his head that indicated yes. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I asked as Eagle's number rang. "Take my helmet off." I put his phone on my shoulder and did as he asked. "Where the heck are you, Brother? You're late." I cleared my throat. "Um, hello?" There was clear surprise in the silence I was met with. "Your brother has been in an accident." "Who the heck is this?" "Leona. We—" "What happened?" "It was a car accident." "God!" His breathing picked up, and I could tell that he was on the move. "Where are you, Leo?" Leo? I could hear the frown in his voice. "Down on the old farmer's road by the abandoned Kent farm." "Have you called 911?" "He, ah, asked me to call you first." "Call for an ambulance," he growled. "We're on our way." He hung up and I met the slightly dazed eyes of the man on the ground. His lips were pressed tightly together, an indication that he was in pain. I dialed 911, gave directions, and then hung up. "Are you in any pain?" I realized how stupid that sounded, but felt that conversation would keep him from passing out on me. He groaned. "God, lady, I hit a tree." His brown eyes moved over me as he tried to sit up. "Nice boyfriend you have, leaving you to fend for yourself." I wasn't about to inform him that Ron was my reckless, chicken-hearted eighteen-year-old brother. The less I said about him, the better. I watched him struggle for a minute before I bent to help him into a sitting position against the tree. "Do you feel like anything is broken?" He shook his head. "Just had the wind knocked out of me." "You might have a concussion," I offered when he brought his hand up to his head. He brought his hand down and looked at the blood. "Been worse." His gaze fell on his bike. He groaned. "Bike's history." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "My name is Leona." "Heard when you were talking to Eagle." He tried to stretch his leg out and winced in pain. "Thanks for staying. Name's Brew." Brew? Maybe it was short for something. I could hear motorcycles approaching in the distance. "That was fast," I murmured. "Clubhouse is just down the road," he explained. I knew the only thing down the road was Toby's salvage yard because we'd passed it earlier. Ron had told me that it had been sold a while back. "You must be the new owners." He groaned and laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "Yeah." I could tell that he didn't want to talk. I wished that there was something more I could do and was thankful when several motorcycles crested the hill in the distance, racing our way. The closer they got, the more nervous I got. The four men were big and kind of frightening-looking. They pulled up next to us, gravel and rocks crunching beneath the tires of their huge bikes. I stood up next to Brew's head as they rushed over to us. "The God, Brother, what happened?" The one asking the question crouched next to Brew. He glanced up at me. "You with him?" He was a formidable sight. His short hair matched the scruff on his tight jaw. Beautiful gray eyes peered up at me as he waited for an answer. There was a black tattoo around his thickly corded neck and down his left arm, his sleeveless shirt and cut revealing how muscular his arms were. I hadn't had the chance to get an idea of his height when he'd first arrived, but I could tell that he was built solid beneath his clothes. His faded jeans stretched tightly over his thighs. "No," I managed to get out from beneath his intense stare. "I, um, was in the car—" "Where the heck is it?" one of the other guys asked. They scanned the area before pinning their frowns back on me. "Gone," Brew muttered, drawing gray eyes back to him. For the first time I noticed that he was holding his left side. He'd grown paler. I was glad that I could hear the ambulance coming. "prick took off." Gray Eyes swung his gaze back up to me. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You want to tell me who he is?" Not really. I sensed it would be bad for Ron. Gray Eyes looked like he wanted to hurt someone. "Black Camaro," Brew uttered in a weakening voice. "We passed a Camaro," a tall blonde barked. The four men swapped looks, and Gray Eyes gave a jerk of his head. "Go." "Wait!" I called out as three of them turned at once to head for their bikes. "Are you going to hurt him? It was an accident!" Brew snorted. I knew that I was stretching the truth, but I didn't like the looks on their rugged faces. Gray Eyes stood up. "An accident, huh?" He was taller than I'd expected. "Why'd he run off then?" I swallowed, stepping back so I wouldn't have to crane my neck so much. "He was, um, afraid." "What kind of chicken mess leaves his girlfriend to handle his mess?" Yeah, chicken mess, that was my brother. I stared into the guy's beautiful eyes and took a calming breath. He crossed his arms in a move that could have been taken as threatening. "You gonna tell me who the heck he is?" I shook my head. "Not if you're going to hurt him." His brows shot up. "Hit and run." I silently agreed with him that it looked bad. "You don't think he deserves to pay for hitting someone and leaving them on the side of a road? For leaving his woman to face the consequences?" What? "Why should I face the consequences? I wasn't driving. And I stayed behind to help your friend." "Brother." He sucked in a deep breath and released it through his nose like an angry bull. I got the sense that he didn't like the fact that I wasn't cooperating. He leaned in close and muttered the words, "I want a name." I leaned back nervously, a little frightened by his imposing stature. I didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of man he was, or what he was capable of doing. He might be good to look at, but everything else about him was big and hard and kind of scary. "Don't scare her, Eagle." Eagle turned his head to look at Brew, then turned it back to pin those quick-silver eyes on me. He wanted a name? Playing stupid, I gave him a name. "Leona." Eagle God, she was cute, but I didn't have time to pursue my interest when Brew was groaning in pain. There was no telling how severe his injuries were. His bike was toast, the twisted, broken metal showing how hard he must have hit the tree against which he was resting. I was glad to see the ambulance come up over the hill. I narrowed my gaze on Leo, trying to intimidate her into telling me who the driver of the car that had hit Brew had been. I was good at intimidating people, especially civilians, but she was holding strong, standing there as if she could stare me down and win. Whoever the guy was, I knew he must be someone special to her. She was protecting him. Well, that was too bad. For her. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had a name. Whoever had hit Brew and then taken off was going to pay, one way or another. Soldiers of Retribution hadn't earned their name from ignoring the wrongs done to the club or its members, but I decided to let it go for now. When the ambulance pulled over and two EMTs jumped out, I stood out of the way. "What happened?" one of them asked. I glanced down at Brew. He'd grown pale and was close to losing consciousness. He didn't look capable of answering any questions, so I turned my attention to Leo, crossed my arms and raised a brow. "It was a car accident," she said. "I think he hit the tree headfirst." God, I thought. Brew was lucky to be alive. For the first time I noticed that his brain bucket was cracked and shattered. "Get the cervical collar," one EMT said to the other. "Did anyone call the sheriff?" "The chicken-mess driver drove off," I responded, getting a glare from Leo. Regret filled her eyes, but she kept them focused on mine without fear. "Hit and run? God!" A few minutes passed as they took Brew's vitals and fitted him with a neck brace. Then the one who'd retrieved the neck brace returned to the ambulance and came back with a stretcher. He lowered it to the ground, they carefully lifted Brew on top of it, and then raised it again. "We're taking him to Mid-Coast." I nodded. "He wakes, tell him his brothers will be there soon." I waited until he acknowledged that he'd heard me before turning back to the woman. "I want the name of the driver." She took a breath, which did wonders for her boobs when they stretched against the tee she was wearing. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her jaw just enough to let me know she was going to remain stubborn. "I'm sorry, I can't do that unless you promise not to hurt him." I frowned. "He someone special to you?" "Yes." "Boyfriend?" "No." That was all she offered. "God, woman." I was getting angry over our word play. I noticed that the change in my tone of voice caused her to take a little step back, and, using her fear to my advantage, I moved toward her menacingly. For every step I took closer to her she took one backwards. I almost grinned when her eyes began darting around the area as if she were looking for someone to help her. "You know who we are?" "I've heard of you." "Then you know we're the good guys." A burst of laughter escaped her. "It doesn't look like it right now." "You think this is funny?" She shook her head. "No!" Her backside came up against the tree Brew had slammed into, the breath rushing from between her parted lips. "I tend to laugh when I get nervous. And you're scaring me." "Oh, yeah?" I stopped when I was almost flush against her. A deep breath would have had me brushing against her boobs. "I can scare you a lot more if you don't give me what I want." "I don't appreciate you threatening me. I stayed with your brother. Made the calls for help. Is this how you repay an innocent bystander?" "You're hardly a bystander." I noticed the green of her eyes had little flakes of gold in them, and her lashes were thick and long, natural. The same color as her chestnut hair. I fought to keep from touching the silky waves, realizing that my thoughts of Brew were dulling and being replaced with inappropriate thoughts about Leo. "And I doubt anything about you is innocent." My gaze dropped to her lips, which were covered with a thin gloss. They were plump and tempting. God... My phone vibrated and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for the interruption. It was Lynx. "Did you catch up to him?" "No. He must have turned off somewhere." I kept my eyes on Leo's. "Head to Mid-Coast then. I'll meet you there." "Got it." Once he was off, I hit Wolfe's number. He started right in with, "Buck already called, Brother. You get the name of the driver from the witness?" My lips turned down, frustration evident in my tone, "No. She's not cooperating." "She still with you?" "Yup." "Bring her to the clubhouse. She goes nowhere until we get to the truth. For all we know this could be connected to those pricks the Maniacs and the trouble that went down in New York." I sucked in a deep breath because I sensed that this wasn't going to go over particularly well with the woman. Wolfe was right though--we needed to make sure that Brew hadn't been targeted because he used to ride with the Maniacs. Little Miss Leo may have been innocent, but whoever had been driving that car wasn't, and she was protecting them. "Will do." Wolfe hung up, but I pretended that I was still talking to him. "I'll lock her hip up in the basement." The clubhouse didn't have a basement, but Leo didn't know that. I'd said that part for her, rewarded when worry filled her eyes and she turned pale when she realized I was talking about her. I grinned, enjoying the color of alarm on her pretty face. "Looks like you're coming with me, darlin'." She shook her head and looked like she was going to bolt. "Look around you, Leo. You see anyone else you can hitch a ride with?" "God," I heard her low murmur. "My mama taught me to never go off with strangers. I'll walk." Knowing the area, I snorted. The clubhouse was down the road, about half a mile. After that it was a couple of miles to reach Georgetown. "It's settled then. You're coming with me." "So you can lock me up somewhere? I don't think so." She sank away from me as I stepped closer. I saw her wince as the bark of the tree dug into her back. "You ready to tell me who you're protecting?" She didn't respond but I could see the stubbornness in her eyes. "Then you have two choices. You can either sit behind me and hold on, or I'll put you in front of me and trust me, you won't like what you feel." She blinked. And blinked some more. My grin was suggestive, and once she figured out what I meant, she blushed and stuttered, "Y-You're a pig!" I shrugged. "Just being truthful. I'm a hip man and having one up against me gets me hard." I paused to emphasize. "Every time." I turned and headed for my bike with a grin on my face. "Better make up your mind, before I make it up for you." I climbed on and sat there waiting. I was surprised at the patience I was showing when I wasn't normally a patient man. Only I'd underestimated her stubbornness, and perseverance. When a car crested the hill, her eyes lit up, and I knew instinctively what she was going to do. She was going to cause trouble, that's what. She stepped away from the tree and headed toward the road excitedly. I jumped off my bike and intercepted her. I caught her up against me. "Let me go!" she demanded. The feel of her soft boobs rubbing against me reminded me that I'd been getting a oral job from Jezzie before we'd been interrupted by Leo's call. I still had a slight buzz from that. I inhaled Leo's intoxicating scent, something sweet and fresh, and exotic. The interest I'd pushed aside earlier came back with a vengeance. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and I gave in to a need I didn't know I had. I wanted to find out if her plump lips were as soft as they looked. I had to taste her. I slammed my mouth down on hers and pecked her hard. Leo struggled to get away for a second before it turned into something different and then she pecked me back. The small hands that had been pushing against my chest were now fisting my cut and holding me tightly. Her sweet mouth moved hungrily against mine, her moans of submission music to my ears. When our tongues meshed, all warm and wet, I lost it. The groan that escaped me sounded like one coming from a bear. An unexplainable need of arousal uncurled in my gut as my shaft rose to the occasion. Jesus, I should feel guilty for getting so turned on by Leo when Jillian was the one that I wanted. Jillian was the woman I'd been watching and waiting to make a move on, but the timing had never seemed right. Friends. We were still just friends. This woman meant nothing to me and yet having her in my arms was making me feel everything. The car's horn should have startled us apart. I reminded myself why I was pecking her in the first place and pulled away, anger close to the surface. Anger at myself for feeling guilty over how much I liked pecking Leo. I shouldn't like pecking another woman. God, I didn't even peck the sweet tarts. I slept them, though. I had needs and they were there for relief, and that was all. Until I made Jillian mine. God! I glared down at the little spitfire in my arms. She was flushed with heat, her eyes glossy. Her lips were swollen and wet. I'd done that to her, and I wondered what she saw on my face. God, I should never have pecked her, but the situation had called for drastic measures. To make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I curled my hand around the softness of her upper arm and pulled her with me. "Come on." She tried to pull away and I swung on her like a vicious dog. "I'm done!" I snarled in her face. She flinched but I kept going. "Now get your hip on my bike!" She stared at me for a minute and then wordlessly went to my bike. I waited for her to climb on before joining her. "You ever ridden before?" I swung my leg over. "No." "We don't have far to go. Just hold on and lean into any turns I take." I waited for her to wrap her arms around me, but it never happened. Her little hands tentatively clutched at my sides. I started my bike and reached down for her hands, wrapping her arms around me. I ignored her huff and crossed one hand over the other. "Don't let go." "Don't worry," came her snarky response. "I'm looking forward to being locked up in the basement." Grinning, I took off.
"Slow down or we're going to have an accident!" I screamed as my brother swerved around the semi, just as a biker crested the hill, heading straight for us. Then everything went black. When I wake up, I'm staring into the stormy eyes of Eagle, VP of the Soldiers of Retribution MC. My reckless brother fled the crash, leaving me to face the consequences. Now Eagle's demanding answers, his grip bruising my arm. "Give me the driver's name," he growls, but I can't betray my own brother, even if he abandoned me. Trapped in their clubhouse, I expect violence. Instead, I get something worse: a peck that sears my soul. Eagle's touch ignites a fire I can't control, even as his threats send chills down my spine. The Soldiers don't take betrayal lightly, and my loyalty to Ron might cost me everything—including my heart. ——————— Leona "Slow down or we're going to have an accident." My brother, Ron, was all over the road and getting on my last nerve. He was a reckless driver by choice, so I knew that my words were wasted, but someday he was going to regret not listening to me. "Relax, Sis." He swerved around another vehicle, which were far and few on the country road, and I clutched the dashboard to keep from being thrown against the door. "I've never had an accident." I rolled my eyes. Never say never, I wanted to tell him. "Yet," I stressed with a tight mouth. We were coming up fast on a semi, a rare sight on this road, and I held my breath, waiting for Ron's next move. It was a two-lane country road and there was a hill ahead of us. "What the heck are you doing?" I cried out when Ron pulled into the oncoming lane. I glared at him as if he were crazy, which he was. "Ron!" I screamed, panicked. "It's clear," he laughed my concern away. "I checked. See?" It was clear, and he accelerated to go around the semi. Just as we were even with the cab of the truck we were trying to pass, a motorcycle crested the hill, coming from the opposite direction, and headed straight for us. I let out a scream when I realized that our only course was to back off and move back behind the semi again. "Ron?" I said in a warning tone when it didn't appear that he was slowing down. "I got time!" I stared at the road ahead of us, my eyes rounding in fear as the motorcyclist got closer. "Ron!" This wasn't happening! "We're going to hit him!" Panic overwhelmed me as our window of making a life-saving decision narrowed. My gaze focused on the biker. I couldn't see his face because of his visor, but I got the sense that he was braking. Because of the speed he was going his bike wobbled slightly and I gasped, thinking that I was about to see him lose control. His options weren't great. "Ron..." My heart moved up into my throat. I was certain that I was about to see a man die, and in a horrible way. "God!" Ron cursed, finally realizing that he wasn't going to make it. He slammed on the brakes, allowing the semi to continue past us, but it was too late for the biker. Everything happened in a blur after that. Ron swore again. I screamed and braced myself. The motorcyclist veered off the road, losing control on the gravel shoulder and skidding into the wet grass. I turned in my seat to watch where he ended up, crying out when his bike slammed into a small tree. "Ohmygod! Stop the car!" I demanded as Ron continued down the road, along with the semi, each of them acting as if nothing had happened. "Ron, stop the car!" I grabbed at the door handle, fully prepared to exit the moving vehicle. "He could be hurt!" He could be dead! In sheer desperation I grabbed the wheel. Cursing beneath his breath, Ron swerved over to the shoulder, braking hard enough to send me slamming into the dash. He glared at me, I glared back, his mouth opening as if to say something. "Don't say a word, dumbhip!" I swore as I opened the door and jumped out. I ran to the biker. His bike had hit the tree head on, and it was obvious that he'd been thrown. The bike was destroyed. I only prayed that the man had survived. I crouched down next to him, taking note of the twisted way in which he was resting on the damp ground. Oh my God! "Is he okay?" I could hear the nervousness in Ron's voice as he hovered close by. "It was a accident!" he whined. "He should have slowed down!" He was already making excuses for his bad behavior, one of his familiar traits. "You were the one in the wrong!" I snapped, shooting him a look of anger. I was so mad I was shaking. A low moan indicated that the man on the ground was alive. "Help me turn him over. And be careful!" When Ron didn't move, I glanced back at him. He was slowly backing up, a look of horror on his thin face. He shook his head. "No..." His eyes met mine. "Do you know who he is? He's with the Soldiers of Retribution!" The fear in his wild eyes held me momentarily frozen. I'd heard of the local MC, had seen them riding around town, but had never been close to any of them. I returned my gaze to the motionless man on the ground, taking in the words on the back of his leather jacket. "So?" I said after a while. "He's hurt. We have to help him." Ron continued to shake his head, his backward steps never faltering as they took him back to his car. "Come on. We have to leave him. They'll kill us..." I snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Get a grip, Ron. It was an accident, as you pointed out. We're not going to leave an injured man on the side of the road. It could be hours before anyone else comes along. Now help me turn him over so I can see how hurt he is." Ron hesitated and then reluctantly walked back to me. Together we managed to turn the huge man over until he was on his back. His low groan of pain sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted his cracked visor to get a look at his face. "Okay, we've turned him over, now let's go." "Are you serious right now? Jesus, Ron!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving him!" I said harshly, running my eyes over the man as I tried to assess his injuries. The blood on his forehead and the side of his face revealed that he had a head injury. "We have to go!" Ron reached down, grabbed my arm, and tried to haul me to my feet. "Before anyone comes!" "What is wrong with you?" I snarled, jerking my arm away and falling back to the ground. "Call an ambulance!" The man groaned again, louder this time. "After we leave here, we'll call for an ambulance. You don't want to get on the bad side of the Soldiers." "Then you go!" I yelled, furious and fed up with him. I wasn't familiar with the reputation of the Soldiers of Retribution, but I'd never seen or heard anything negative about them. In fact, just the opposite. But something had my brother spooked. "I'll call you when I get home." I couldn't keep the disgust out of my tone. I returned my attention to the man on the ground and caught my breath. His eyes were open and he was staring up at me, pain etched on his chiseled features. He wet his lips. "Can you move?" I asked him worriedly. "God, that hurt." He ignored me. "Call..." For the first time I noticed that he'd reached for something in his jacket and was struggling to get it out. Behind me I heard Ron take off. I shook my head with deep disappointment and realized that his running away was only going to cause him more problems. "Here, let me." I gently moved the man's hand aside and dug out his phone. "Who do you want me to call?" He started to say something, cleared his throat, and whispered, "Eagle..." "Eagle. Okay." I went down his contact list until I found Eagle and hit his number. "Shouldn't I call 911, too?" I caught the slight nod of his head that indicated yes. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I asked as Eagle's number rang. "Take my helmet off." I put his phone on my shoulder and did as he asked. "Where the heck are you, Brother? You're late." I cleared my throat. "Um, hello?" There was clear surprise in the silence I was met with. "Your brother has been in an accident." "Who the heck is this?" "Leona. We—" "What happened?" "It was a car accident." "God!" His breathing picked up, and I could tell that he was on the move. "Where are you, Leo?" Leo? I could hear the frown in his voice. "Down on the old farmer's road by the abandoned Kent farm." "Have you called 911?" "He, ah, asked me to call you first." "Call for an ambulance," he growled. "We're on our way." He hung up and I met the slightly dazed eyes of the man on the ground. His lips were pressed tightly together, an indication that he was in pain. I dialed 911, gave directions, and then hung up. "Are you in any pain?" I realized how stupid that sounded, but felt that conversation would keep him from passing out on me. He groaned. "God, lady, I hit a tree." His brown eyes moved over me as he tried to sit up. "Nice boyfriend you have, leaving you to fend for yourself." I wasn't about to inform him that Ron was my reckless, chicken-hearted eighteen-year-old brother. The less I said about him, the better. I watched him struggle for a minute before I bent to help him into a sitting position against the tree. "Do you feel like anything is broken?" He shook his head. "Just had the wind knocked out of me." "You might have a concussion," I offered when he brought his hand up to his head. He brought his hand down and looked at the blood. "Been worse." His gaze fell on his bike. He groaned. "Bike's history." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "My name is Leona." "Heard when you were talking to Eagle." He tried to stretch his leg out and winced in pain. "Thanks for staying. Name's Brew." Brew? Maybe it was short for something. I could hear motorcycles approaching in the distance. "That was fast," I murmured. "Clubhouse is just down the road," he explained. I knew the only thing down the road was Toby's salvage yard because we'd passed it earlier. Ron had told me that it had been sold a while back. "You must be the new owners." He groaned and laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "Yeah." I could tell that he didn't want to talk. I wished that there was something more I could do and was thankful when several motorcycles crested the hill in the distance, racing our way. The closer they got, the more nervous I got. The four men were big and kind of frightening-looking. They pulled up next to us, gravel and rocks crunching beneath the tires of their huge bikes. I stood up next to Brew's head as they rushed over to us. "The God, Brother, what happened?" The one asking the question crouched next to Brew. He glanced up at me. "You with him?" He was a formidable sight. His short hair matched the scruff on his tight jaw. Beautiful gray eyes peered up at me as he waited for an answer. There was a black tattoo around his thickly corded neck and down his left arm, his sleeveless shirt and cut revealing how muscular his arms were. I hadn't had the chance to get an idea of his height when he'd first arrived, but I could tell that he was built solid beneath his clothes. His faded jeans stretched tightly over his thighs. "No," I managed to get out from beneath his intense stare. "I, um, was in the car—" "Where the heck is it?" one of the other guys asked. They scanned the area before pinning their frowns back on me. "Gone," Brew muttered, drawing gray eyes back to him. For the first time I noticed that he was holding his left side. He'd grown paler. I was glad that I could hear the ambulance coming. "prick took off." Gray Eyes swung his gaze back up to me. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You want to tell me who he is?" Not really. I sensed it would be bad for Ron. Gray Eyes looked like he wanted to hurt someone. "Black Camaro," Brew uttered in a weakening voice. "We passed a Camaro," a tall blonde barked. The four men swapped looks, and Gray Eyes gave a jerk of his head. "Go." "Wait!" I called out as three of them turned at once to head for their bikes. "Are you going to hurt him? It was an accident!" Brew snorted. I knew that I was stretching the truth, but I didn't like the looks on their rugged faces. Gray Eyes stood up. "An accident, huh?" He was taller than I'd expected. "Why'd he run off then?" I swallowed, stepping back so I wouldn't have to crane my neck so much. "He was, um, afraid." "What kind of chicken mess leaves his girlfriend to handle his mess?" Yeah, chicken mess, that was my brother. I stared into the guy's beautiful eyes and took a calming breath. He crossed his arms in a move that could have been taken as threatening. "You gonna tell me who the heck he is?" I shook my head. "Not if you're going to hurt him." His brows shot up. "Hit and run." I silently agreed with him that it looked bad. "You don't think he deserves to pay for hitting someone and leaving them on the side of a road? For leaving his woman to face the consequences?" What? "Why should I face the consequences? I wasn't driving. And I stayed behind to help your friend." "Brother." He sucked in a deep breath and released it through his nose like an angry bull. I got the sense that he didn't like the fact that I wasn't cooperating. He leaned in close and muttered the words, "I want a name." I leaned back nervously, a little frightened by his imposing stature. I didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of man he was, or what he was capable of doing. He might be good to look at, but everything else about him was big and hard and kind of scary. "Don't scare her, Eagle." Eagle turned his head to look at Brew, then turned it back to pin those quick-silver eyes on me. He wanted a name? Playing stupid, I gave him a name. "Leona." Eagle God, she was cute, but I didn't have time to pursue my interest when Brew was groaning in pain. There was no telling how severe his injuries were. His bike was toast, the twisted, broken metal showing how hard he must have hit the tree against which he was resting. I was glad to see the ambulance come up over the hill. I narrowed my gaze on Leo, trying to intimidate her into telling me who the driver of the car that had hit Brew had been. I was good at intimidating people, especially civilians, but she was holding strong, standing there as if she could stare me down and win. Whoever the guy was, I knew he must be someone special to her. She was protecting him. Well, that was too bad. For her. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had a name. Whoever had hit Brew and then taken off was going to pay, one way or another. Soldiers of Retribution hadn't earned their name from ignoring the wrongs done to the club or its members, but I decided to let it go for now. When the ambulance pulled over and two EMTs jumped out, I stood out of the way. "What happened?" one of them asked. I glanced down at Brew. He'd grown pale and was close to losing consciousness. He didn't look capable of answering any questions, so I turned my attention to Leo, crossed my arms and raised a brow. "It was a car accident," she said. "I think he hit the tree headfirst." God, I thought. Brew was lucky to be alive. For the first time I noticed that his brain bucket was cracked and shattered. "Get the cervical collar," one EMT said to the other. "Did anyone call the sheriff?" "The chicken-mess driver drove off," I responded, getting a glare from Leo. Regret filled her eyes, but she kept them focused on mine without fear. "Hit and run? God!" A few minutes passed as they took Brew's vitals and fitted him with a neck brace. Then the one who'd retrieved the neck brace returned to the ambulance and came back with a stretcher. He lowered it to the ground, they carefully lifted Brew on top of it, and then raised it again. "We're taking him to Mid-Coast." I nodded. "He wakes, tell him his brothers will be there soon." I waited until he acknowledged that he'd heard me before turning back to the woman. "I want the name of the driver." She took a breath, which did wonders for her boobs when they stretched against the tee she was wearing. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her jaw just enough to let me know she was going to remain stubborn. "I'm sorry, I can't do that unless you promise not to hurt him." I frowned. "He someone special to you?" "Yes." "Boyfriend?" "No." That was all she offered. "God, woman." I was getting angry over our word play. I noticed that the change in my tone of voice caused her to take a little step back, and, using her fear to my advantage, I moved toward her menacingly. For every step I took closer to her she took one backwards. I almost grinned when her eyes began darting around the area as if she were looking for someone to help her. "You know who we are?" "I've heard of you." "Then you know we're the good guys." A burst of laughter escaped her. "It doesn't look like it right now." "You think this is funny?" She shook her head. "No!" Her backside came up against the tree Brew had slammed into, the breath rushing from between her parted lips. "I tend to laugh when I get nervous. And you're scaring me." "Oh, yeah?" I stopped when I was almost flush against her. A deep breath would have had me brushing against her boobs. "I can scare you a lot more if you don't give me what I want." "I don't appreciate you threatening me. I stayed with your brother. Made the calls for help. Is this how you repay an innocent bystander?" "You're hardly a bystander." I noticed the green of her eyes had little flakes of gold in them, and her lashes were thick and long, natural. The same color as her chestnut hair. I fought to keep from touching the silky waves, realizing that my thoughts of Brew were dulling and being replaced with inappropriate thoughts about Leo. "And I doubt anything about you is innocent." My gaze dropped to her lips, which were covered with a thin gloss. They were plump and tempting. God... My phone vibrated and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for the interruption. It was Lynx. "Did you catch up to him?" "No. He must have turned off somewhere." I kept my eyes on Leo's. "Head to Mid-Coast then. I'll meet you there." "Got it." Once he was off, I hit Wolfe's number. He started right in with, "Buck already called, Brother. You get the name of the driver from the witness?" My lips turned down, frustration evident in my tone, "No. She's not cooperating." "She still with you?" "Yup." "Bring her to the clubhouse. She goes nowhere until we get to the truth. For all we know this could be connected to those pricks the Maniacs and the trouble that went down in New York." I sucked in a deep breath because I sensed that this wasn't going to go over particularly well with the woman. Wolfe was right though--we needed to make sure that Brew hadn't been targeted because he used to ride with the Maniacs. Little Miss Leo may have been innocent, but whoever had been driving that car wasn't, and she was protecting them. "Will do." Wolfe hung up, but I pretended that I was still talking to him. "I'll lock her hip up in the basement." The clubhouse didn't have a basement, but Leo didn't know that. I'd said that part for her, rewarded when worry filled her eyes and she turned pale when she realized I was talking about her. I grinned, enjoying the color of alarm on her pretty face. "Looks like you're coming with me, darlin'." She shook her head and looked like she was going to bolt. "Look around you, Leo. You see anyone else you can hitch a ride with?" "God," I heard her low murmur. "My mama taught me to never go off with strangers. I'll walk." Knowing the area, I snorted. The clubhouse was down the road, about half a mile. After that it was a couple of miles to reach Georgetown. "It's settled then. You're coming with me." "So you can lock me up somewhere? I don't think so." She sank away from me as I stepped closer. I saw her wince as the bark of the tree dug into her back. "You ready to tell me who you're protecting?" She didn't respond but I could see the stubbornness in her eyes. "Then you have two choices. You can either sit behind me and hold on, or I'll put you in front of me and trust me, you won't like what you feel." She blinked. And blinked some more. My grin was suggestive, and once she figured out what I meant, she blushed and stuttered, "Y-You're a pig!" I shrugged. "Just being truthful. I'm a hip man and having one up against me gets me hard." I paused to emphasize. "Every time." I turned and headed for my bike with a grin on my face. "Better make up your mind, before I make it up for you." I climbed on and sat there waiting. I was surprised at the patience I was showing when I wasn't normally a patient man. Only I'd underestimated her stubbornness, and perseverance. When a car crested the hill, her eyes lit up, and I knew instinctively what she was going to do. She was going to cause trouble, that's what. She stepped away from the tree and headed toward the road excitedly. I jumped off my bike and intercepted her. I caught her up against me. "Let me go!" she demanded. The feel of her soft boobs rubbing against me reminded me that I'd been getting a oral job from Jezzie before we'd been interrupted by Leo's call. I still had a slight buzz from that. I inhaled Leo's intoxicating scent, something sweet and fresh, and exotic. The interest I'd pushed aside earlier came back with a vengeance. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and I gave in to a need I didn't know I had. I wanted to find out if her plump lips were as soft as they looked. I had to taste her. I slammed my mouth down on hers and pecked her hard. Leo struggled to get away for a second before it turned into something different and then she pecked me back. The small hands that had been pushing against my chest were now fisting my cut and holding me tightly. Her sweet mouth moved hungrily against mine, her moans of submission music to my ears. When our tongues meshed, all warm and wet, I lost it. The groan that escaped me sounded like one coming from a bear. An unexplainable need of arousal uncurled in my gut as my shaft rose to the occasion. Jesus, I should feel guilty for getting so turned on by Leo when Jillian was the one that I wanted. Jillian was the woman I'd been watching and waiting to make a move on, but the timing had never seemed right. Friends. We were still just friends. This woman meant nothing to me and yet having her in my arms was making me feel everything. The car's horn should have startled us apart. I reminded myself why I was pecking her in the first place and pulled away, anger close to the surface. Anger at myself for feeling guilty over how much I liked pecking Leo. I shouldn't like pecking another woman. God, I didn't even peck the sweet tarts. I slept them, though. I had needs and they were there for relief, and that was all. Until I made Jillian mine. God! I glared down at the little spitfire in my arms. She was flushed with heat, her eyes glossy. Her lips were swollen and wet. I'd done that to her, and I wondered what she saw on my face. God, I should never have pecked her, but the situation had called for drastic measures. To make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I curled my hand around the softness of her upper arm and pulled her with me. "Come on." She tried to pull away and I swung on her like a vicious dog. "I'm done!" I snarled in her face. She flinched but I kept going. "Now get your hip on my bike!" She stared at me for a minute and then wordlessly went to my bike. I waited for her to climb on before joining her. "You ever ridden before?" I swung my leg over. "No." "We don't have far to go. Just hold on and lean into any turns I take." I waited for her to wrap her arms around me, but it never happened. Her little hands tentatively clutched at my sides. I started my bike and reached down for her hands, wrapping her arms around me. I ignored her huff and crossed one hand over the other. "Don't let go." "Don't worry," came her snarky response. "I'm looking forward to being locked up in the basement." Grinning, I took off.
"Slow down or we're going to have an accident!" I screamed as my brother swerved around the semi, just as a biker crested the hill, heading straight for us. Then everything went black. When I wake up, I'm staring into the stormy eyes of Eagle, VP of the Soldiers of Retribution MC. My reckless brother fled the crash, leaving me to face the consequences. Now Eagle's demanding answers, his grip bruising my arm. "Give me the driver's name," he growls, but I can't betray my own brother, even if he abandoned me. Trapped in their clubhouse, I expect violence. Instead, I get something worse: a peck that sears my soul. Eagle's touch ignites a fire I can't control, even as his threats send chills down my spine. The Soldiers don't take betrayal lightly, and my loyalty to Ron might cost me everything—including my heart. ——————— Leona "Slow down or we're going to have an accident." My brother, Ron, was all over the road and getting on my last nerve. He was a reckless driver by choice, so I knew that my words were wasted, but someday he was going to regret not listening to me. "Relax, Sis." He swerved around another vehicle, which were far and few on the country road, and I clutched the dashboard to keep from being thrown against the door. "I've never had an accident." I rolled my eyes. Never say never, I wanted to tell him. "Yet," I stressed with a tight mouth. We were coming up fast on a semi, a rare sight on this road, and I held my breath, waiting for Ron's next move. It was a two-lane country road and there was a hill ahead of us. "What the heck are you doing?" I cried out when Ron pulled into the oncoming lane. I glared at him as if he were crazy, which he was. "Ron!" I screamed, panicked. "It's clear," he laughed my concern away. "I checked. See?" It was clear, and he accelerated to go around the semi. Just as we were even with the cab of the truck we were trying to pass, a motorcycle crested the hill, coming from the opposite direction, and headed straight for us. I let out a scream when I realized that our only course was to back off and move back behind the semi again. "Ron?" I said in a warning tone when it didn't appear that he was slowing down. "I got time!" I stared at the road ahead of us, my eyes rounding in fear as the motorcyclist got closer. "Ron!" This wasn't happening! "We're going to hit him!" Panic overwhelmed me as our window of making a life-saving decision narrowed. My gaze focused on the biker. I couldn't see his face because of his visor, but I got the sense that he was braking. Because of the speed he was going his bike wobbled slightly and I gasped, thinking that I was about to see him lose control. His options weren't great. "Ron..." My heart moved up into my throat. I was certain that I was about to see a man die, and in a horrible way. "God!" Ron cursed, finally realizing that he wasn't going to make it. He slammed on the brakes, allowing the semi to continue past us, but it was too late for the biker. Everything happened in a blur after that. Ron swore again. I screamed and braced myself. The motorcyclist veered off the road, losing control on the gravel shoulder and skidding into the wet grass. I turned in my seat to watch where he ended up, crying out when his bike slammed into a small tree. "Ohmygod! Stop the car!" I demanded as Ron continued down the road, along with the semi, each of them acting as if nothing had happened. "Ron, stop the car!" I grabbed at the door handle, fully prepared to exit the moving vehicle. "He could be hurt!" He could be dead! In sheer desperation I grabbed the wheel. Cursing beneath his breath, Ron swerved over to the shoulder, braking hard enough to send me slamming into the dash. He glared at me, I glared back, his mouth opening as if to say something. "Don't say a word, dumbhip!" I swore as I opened the door and jumped out. I ran to the biker. His bike had hit the tree head on, and it was obvious that he'd been thrown. The bike was destroyed. I only prayed that the man had survived. I crouched down next to him, taking note of the twisted way in which he was resting on the damp ground. Oh my God! "Is he okay?" I could hear the nervousness in Ron's voice as he hovered close by. "It was a accident!" he whined. "He should have slowed down!" He was already making excuses for his bad behavior, one of his familiar traits. "You were the one in the wrong!" I snapped, shooting him a look of anger. I was so mad I was shaking. A low moan indicated that the man on the ground was alive. "Help me turn him over. And be careful!" When Ron didn't move, I glanced back at him. He was slowly backing up, a look of horror on his thin face. He shook his head. "No..." His eyes met mine. "Do you know who he is? He's with the Soldiers of Retribution!" The fear in his wild eyes held me momentarily frozen. I'd heard of the local MC, had seen them riding around town, but had never been close to any of them. I returned my gaze to the motionless man on the ground, taking in the words on the back of his leather jacket. "So?" I said after a while. "He's hurt. We have to help him." Ron continued to shake his head, his backward steps never faltering as they took him back to his car. "Come on. We have to leave him. They'll kill us..." I snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Get a grip, Ron. It was an accident, as you pointed out. We're not going to leave an injured man on the side of the road. It could be hours before anyone else comes along. Now help me turn him over so I can see how hurt he is." Ron hesitated and then reluctantly walked back to me. Together we managed to turn the huge man over until he was on his back. His low groan of pain sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted his cracked visor to get a look at his face. "Okay, we've turned him over, now let's go." "Are you serious right now? Jesus, Ron!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving him!" I said harshly, running my eyes over the man as I tried to assess his injuries. The blood on his forehead and the side of his face revealed that he had a head injury. "We have to go!" Ron reached down, grabbed my arm, and tried to haul me to my feet. "Before anyone comes!" "What is wrong with you?" I snarled, jerking my arm away and falling back to the ground. "Call an ambulance!" The man groaned again, louder this time. "After we leave here, we'll call for an ambulance. You don't want to get on the bad side of the Soldiers." "Then you go!" I yelled, furious and fed up with him. I wasn't familiar with the reputation of the Soldiers of Retribution, but I'd never seen or heard anything negative about them. In fact, just the opposite. But something had my brother spooked. "I'll call you when I get home." I couldn't keep the disgust out of my tone. I returned my attention to the man on the ground and caught my breath. His eyes were open and he was staring up at me, pain etched on his chiseled features. He wet his lips. "Can you move?" I asked him worriedly. "God, that hurt." He ignored me. "Call..." For the first time I noticed that he'd reached for something in his jacket and was struggling to get it out. Behind me I heard Ron take off. I shook my head with deep disappointment and realized that his running away was only going to cause him more problems. "Here, let me." I gently moved the man's hand aside and dug out his phone. "Who do you want me to call?" He started to say something, cleared his throat, and whispered, "Eagle..." "Eagle. Okay." I went down his contact list until I found Eagle and hit his number. "Shouldn't I call 911, too?" I caught the slight nod of his head that indicated yes. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I asked as Eagle's number rang. "Take my helmet off." I put his phone on my shoulder and did as he asked. "Where the heck are you, Brother? You're late." I cleared my throat. "Um, hello?" There was clear surprise in the silence I was met with. "Your brother has been in an accident." "Who the heck is this?" "Leona. We—" "What happened?" "It was a car accident." "God!" His breathing picked up, and I could tell that he was on the move. "Where are you, Leo?" Leo? I could hear the frown in his voice. "Down on the old farmer's road by the abandoned Kent farm." "Have you called 911?" "He, ah, asked me to call you first." "Call for an ambulance," he growled. "We're on our way." He hung up and I met the slightly dazed eyes of the man on the ground. His lips were pressed tightly together, an indication that he was in pain. I dialed 911, gave directions, and then hung up. "Are you in any pain?" I realized how stupid that sounded, but felt that conversation would keep him from passing out on me. He groaned. "God, lady, I hit a tree." His brown eyes moved over me as he tried to sit up. "Nice boyfriend you have, leaving you to fend for yourself." I wasn't about to inform him that Ron was my reckless, chicken-hearted eighteen-year-old brother. The less I said about him, the better. I watched him struggle for a minute before I bent to help him into a sitting position against the tree. "Do you feel like anything is broken?" He shook his head. "Just had the wind knocked out of me." "You might have a concussion," I offered when he brought his hand up to his head. He brought his hand down and looked at the blood. "Been worse." His gaze fell on his bike. He groaned. "Bike's history." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "My name is Leona." "Heard when you were talking to Eagle." He tried to stretch his leg out and winced in pain. "Thanks for staying. Name's Brew." Brew? Maybe it was short for something. I could hear motorcycles approaching in the distance. "That was fast," I murmured. "Clubhouse is just down the road," he explained. I knew the only thing down the road was Toby's salvage yard because we'd passed it earlier. Ron had told me that it had been sold a while back. "You must be the new owners." He groaned and laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "Yeah." I could tell that he didn't want to talk. I wished that there was something more I could do and was thankful when several motorcycles crested the hill in the distance, racing our way. The closer they got, the more nervous I got. The four men were big and kind of frightening-looking. They pulled up next to us, gravel and rocks crunching beneath the tires of their huge bikes. I stood up next to Brew's head as they rushed over to us. "The God, Brother, what happened?" The one asking the question crouched next to Brew. He glanced up at me. "You with him?" He was a formidable sight. His short hair matched the scruff on his tight jaw. Beautiful gray eyes peered up at me as he waited for an answer. There was a black tattoo around his thickly corded neck and down his left arm, his sleeveless shirt and cut revealing how muscular his arms were. I hadn't had the chance to get an idea of his height when he'd first arrived, but I could tell that he was built solid beneath his clothes. His faded jeans stretched tightly over his thighs. "No," I managed to get out from beneath his intense stare. "I, um, was in the car—" "Where the heck is it?" one of the other guys asked. They scanned the area before pinning their frowns back on me. "Gone," Brew muttered, drawing gray eyes back to him. For the first time I noticed that he was holding his left side. He'd grown paler. I was glad that I could hear the ambulance coming. "prick took off." Gray Eyes swung his gaze back up to me. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You want to tell me who he is?" Not really. I sensed it would be bad for Ron. Gray Eyes looked like he wanted to hurt someone. "Black Camaro," Brew uttered in a weakening voice. "We passed a Camaro," a tall blonde barked. The four men swapped looks, and Gray Eyes gave a jerk of his head. "Go." "Wait!" I called out as three of them turned at once to head for their bikes. "Are you going to hurt him? It was an accident!" Brew snorted. I knew that I was stretching the truth, but I didn't like the looks on their rugged faces. Gray Eyes stood up. "An accident, huh?" He was taller than I'd expected. "Why'd he run off then?" I swallowed, stepping back so I wouldn't have to crane my neck so much. "He was, um, afraid." "What kind of chicken mess leaves his girlfriend to handle his mess?" Yeah, chicken mess, that was my brother. I stared into the guy's beautiful eyes and took a calming breath. He crossed his arms in a move that could have been taken as threatening. "You gonna tell me who the heck he is?" I shook my head. "Not if you're going to hurt him." His brows shot up. "Hit and run." I silently agreed with him that it looked bad. "You don't think he deserves to pay for hitting someone and leaving them on the side of a road? For leaving his woman to face the consequences?" What? "Why should I face the consequences? I wasn't driving. And I stayed behind to help your friend." "Brother." He sucked in a deep breath and released it through his nose like an angry bull. I got the sense that he didn't like the fact that I wasn't cooperating. He leaned in close and muttered the words, "I want a name." I leaned back nervously, a little frightened by his imposing stature. I didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of man he was, or what he was capable of doing. He might be good to look at, but everything else about him was big and hard and kind of scary. "Don't scare her, Eagle." Eagle turned his head to look at Brew, then turned it back to pin those quick-silver eyes on me. He wanted a name? Playing stupid, I gave him a name. "Leona." Eagle God, she was cute, but I didn't have time to pursue my interest when Brew was groaning in pain. There was no telling how severe his injuries were. His bike was toast, the twisted, broken metal showing how hard he must have hit the tree against which he was resting. I was glad to see the ambulance come up over the hill. I narrowed my gaze on Leo, trying to intimidate her into telling me who the driver of the car that had hit Brew had been. I was good at intimidating people, especially civilians, but she was holding strong, standing there as if she could stare me down and win. Whoever the guy was, I knew he must be someone special to her. She was protecting him. Well, that was too bad. For her. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had a name. Whoever had hit Brew and then taken off was going to pay, one way or another. Soldiers of Retribution hadn't earned their name from ignoring the wrongs done to the club or its members, but I decided to let it go for now. When the ambulance pulled over and two EMTs jumped out, I stood out of the way. "What happened?" one of them asked. I glanced down at Brew. He'd grown pale and was close to losing consciousness. He didn't look capable of answering any questions, so I turned my attention to Leo, crossed my arms and raised a brow. "It was a car accident," she said. "I think he hit the tree headfirst." God, I thought. Brew was lucky to be alive. For the first time I noticed that his brain bucket was cracked and shattered. "Get the cervical collar," one EMT said to the other. "Did anyone call the sheriff?" "The chicken-mess driver drove off," I responded, getting a glare from Leo. Regret filled her eyes, but she kept them focused on mine without fear. "Hit and run? God!" A few minutes passed as they took Brew's vitals and fitted him with a neck brace. Then the one who'd retrieved the neck brace returned to the ambulance and came back with a stretcher. He lowered it to the ground, they carefully lifted Brew on top of it, and then raised it again. "We're taking him to Mid-Coast." I nodded. "He wakes, tell him his brothers will be there soon." I waited until he acknowledged that he'd heard me before turning back to the woman. "I want the name of the driver." She took a breath, which did wonders for her boobs when they stretched against the tee she was wearing. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her jaw just enough to let me know she was going to remain stubborn. "I'm sorry, I can't do that unless you promise not to hurt him." I frowned. "He someone special to you?" "Yes." "Boyfriend?" "No." That was all she offered. "God, woman." I was getting angry over our word play. I noticed that the change in my tone of voice caused her to take a little step back, and, using her fear to my advantage, I moved toward her menacingly. For every step I took closer to her she took one backwards. I almost grinned when her eyes began darting around the area as if she were looking for someone to help her. "You know who we are?" "I've heard of you." "Then you know we're the good guys." A burst of laughter escaped her. "It doesn't look like it right now." "You think this is funny?" She shook her head. "No!" Her backside came up against the tree Brew had slammed into, the breath rushing from between her parted lips. "I tend to laugh when I get nervous. And you're scaring me." "Oh, yeah?" I stopped when I was almost flush against her. A deep breath would have had me brushing against her boobs. "I can scare you a lot more if you don't give me what I want." "I don't appreciate you threatening me. I stayed with your brother. Made the calls for help. Is this how you repay an innocent bystander?" "You're hardly a bystander." I noticed the green of her eyes had little flakes of gold in them, and her lashes were thick and long, natural. The same color as her chestnut hair. I fought to keep from touching the silky waves, realizing that my thoughts of Brew were dulling and being replaced with inappropriate thoughts about Leo. "And I doubt anything about you is innocent." My gaze dropped to her lips, which were covered with a thin gloss. They were plump and tempting. God... My phone vibrated and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for the interruption. It was Lynx. "Did you catch up to him?" "No. He must have turned off somewhere." I kept my eyes on Leo's. "Head to Mid-Coast then. I'll meet you there." "Got it." Once he was off, I hit Wolfe's number. He started right in with, "Buck already called, Brother. You get the name of the driver from the witness?" My lips turned down, frustration evident in my tone, "No. She's not cooperating." "She still with you?" "Yup." "Bring her to the clubhouse. She goes nowhere until we get to the truth. For all we know this could be connected to those pricks the Maniacs and the trouble that went down in New York." I sucked in a deep breath because I sensed that this wasn't going to go over particularly well with the woman. Wolfe was right though--we needed to make sure that Brew hadn't been targeted because he used to ride with the Maniacs. Little Miss Leo may have been innocent, but whoever had been driving that car wasn't, and she was protecting them. "Will do." Wolfe hung up, but I pretended that I was still talking to him. "I'll lock her hip up in the basement." The clubhouse didn't have a basement, but Leo didn't know that. I'd said that part for her, rewarded when worry filled her eyes and she turned pale when she realized I was talking about her. I grinned, enjoying the color of alarm on her pretty face. "Looks like you're coming with me, darlin'." She shook her head and looked like she was going to bolt. "Look around you, Leo. You see anyone else you can hitch a ride with?" "God," I heard her low murmur. "My mama taught me to never go off with strangers. I'll walk." Knowing the area, I snorted. The clubhouse was down the road, about half a mile. After that it was a couple of miles to reach Georgetown. "It's settled then. You're coming with me." "So you can lock me up somewhere? I don't think so." She sank away from me as I stepped closer. I saw her wince as the bark of the tree dug into her back. "You ready to tell me who you're protecting?" She didn't respond but I could see the stubbornness in her eyes. "Then you have two choices. You can either sit behind me and hold on, or I'll put you in front of me and trust me, you won't like what you feel." She blinked. And blinked some more. My grin was suggestive, and once she figured out what I meant, she blushed and stuttered, "Y-You're a pig!" I shrugged. "Just being truthful. I'm a hip man and having one up against me gets me hard." I paused to emphasize. "Every time." I turned and headed for my bike with a grin on my face. "Better make up your mind, before I make it up for you." I climbed on and sat there waiting. I was surprised at the patience I was showing when I wasn't normally a patient man. Only I'd underestimated her stubbornness, and perseverance. When a car crested the hill, her eyes lit up, and I knew instinctively what she was going to do. She was going to cause trouble, that's what. She stepped away from the tree and headed toward the road excitedly. I jumped off my bike and intercepted her. I caught her up against me. "Let me go!" she demanded. The feel of her soft boobs rubbing against me reminded me that I'd been getting a oral job from Jezzie before we'd been interrupted by Leo's call. I still had a slight buzz from that. I inhaled Leo's intoxicating scent, something sweet and fresh, and exotic. The interest I'd pushed aside earlier came back with a vengeance. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and I gave in to a need I didn't know I had. I wanted to find out if her plump lips were as soft as they looked. I had to taste her. I slammed my mouth down on hers and pecked her hard. Leo struggled to get away for a second before it turned into something different and then she pecked me back. The small hands that had been pushing against my chest were now fisting my cut and holding me tightly. Her sweet mouth moved hungrily against mine, her moans of submission music to my ears. When our tongues meshed, all warm and wet, I lost it. The groan that escaped me sounded like one coming from a bear. An unexplainable need of arousal uncurled in my gut as my shaft rose to the occasion. Jesus, I should feel guilty for getting so turned on by Leo when Jillian was the one that I wanted. Jillian was the woman I'd been watching and waiting to make a move on, but the timing had never seemed right. Friends. We were still just friends. This woman meant nothing to me and yet having her in my arms was making me feel everything. The car's horn should have startled us apart. I reminded myself why I was pecking her in the first place and pulled away, anger close to the surface. Anger at myself for feeling guilty over how much I liked pecking Leo. I shouldn't like pecking another woman. God, I didn't even peck the sweet tarts. I slept them, though. I had needs and they were there for relief, and that was all. Until I made Jillian mine. God! I glared down at the little spitfire in my arms. She was flushed with heat, her eyes glossy. Her lips were swollen and wet. I'd done that to her, and I wondered what she saw on my face. God, I should never have pecked her, but the situation had called for drastic measures. To make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I curled my hand around the softness of her upper arm and pulled her with me. "Come on." She tried to pull away and I swung on her like a vicious dog. "I'm done!" I snarled in her face. She flinched but I kept going. "Now get your hip on my bike!" She stared at me for a minute and then wordlessly went to my bike. I waited for her to climb on before joining her. "You ever ridden before?" I swung my leg over. "No." "We don't have far to go. Just hold on and lean into any turns I take." I waited for her to wrap her arms around me, but it never happened. Her little hands tentatively clutched at my sides. I started my bike and reached down for her hands, wrapping her arms around me. I ignored her huff and crossed one hand over the other. "Don't let go." "Don't worry," came her snarky response. "I'm looking forward to being locked up in the basement." Grinning, I took off.
Mom accidentally adds me into a group chat called "Happy Family". In the group chat, I saw Mom, Dad, and a stranger who's nicknamed "sweetheart". They are in the middle of organizing a birthday party for him. However, the thing is, tomorrow will be my birthday, which they have forgotten for the tenth time in a row. Mom says, "The venue must be dreamy. I want him to feel like an actual prince." Dad transfers a huge sum of money to "sweetheart". "Money is no problem! Just don't let Christopher find out about this. It'll screw things up for us!" I quietly take screenshots of everything, planning to find a chance to expose my parents' true colors and end everything with them once and for all. At that moment, my younger sister, who's always been great at her studies, sends me a screenshot via our private chat. It's a screenshot of the chat history between her and Mom. "Mom, have you made preparations for Christopher's surprise party yet? You promised me that this is the last time you'd lie to him!" Chapter 1 I stared at the screenshots my sister, Suzy Blake, had sent me, and my heart sank. A surprise? The last time they would ever lie to me? That explained so much. Every year on my birthday, my parents would brush me off with all sorts of excuses. "Chris, something urgent came up at work," Mom once said. "Chris, I've got a meeting with a friend about business. Order some takeout for yourself," Dad once said. This year, they didn't even bother with excuses. They had simply replaced me with someone else. I tossed my phone aside. My chest felt as if something heavy had lodged itself there. Another message from Suzy popped up. "Christopher, don't overthink it. Mom and Dad just—" I replied with just two words. "Got it." Overthink it? How could I not overthink it? The facts were right in front of me. That birthday party for their "sweetheart" was the so-called surprise they had lied to me about. As their biological son, I was nothing more than a backdrop for another boy's happiness. I heard Mom's hushed voice from the living room as she spoke on the phone. "Right, we'll go with blue balloons, the biggest and brightest ones. Ben loves blue the most, so it has to be perfect for him." Ben. Listening closely to their conversation, I pieced together the boy's full name—Benjamin Smith. I picked up my phone and searched for the name on social media. Soon, a boy with a polished profile picture appeared. His highlighted stories were filled with glamorous photos of him traveling around the world. His most recent post was a photo of him with my parents, taken in my living room. In the photo, Mom and Dad's smiles were warm and loving. Mom's arm rested affectionately on Benjamin's shoulder, while Dad stood beside him with eyes full of indulgence. It was an expression I had never once seen on their faces. The caption read, "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's party!" Mom left a comment underneath. "Silly child, there's no need to be so formal with us." Meanwhile, Dad gave the post a like. What a perfect "family". I saved the photo along with the group chat screenshots and stored them in my encrypted album. These would be the "surprises" I planned to give them tomorrow. At dinner, Mom made soup and served me a bowl with exaggerated attentiveness. "Chris, try it. I made this especially for you," she said. I looked at the greasy chicken soup. My throat tightened as a wave of nausea surged up. "Is this supposed to liven up Benjamin's birthday party?" I asked lightly. The smile on Mom's face froze. She glanced at Dad, and his expression darkened immediately. "What nonsense are you talking about? Benjamin?" he replied. "Oh? Looks like you forget things easily, Dad." I took out my phone and opened the photo. "Isn't this boy your so-called sweetheart?" Dad's face turned ashen in an instant. Mom rushed to smooth things over. "Chris, you misunderstood. He's the son of an important client of mine. We're just helping to organize his birthday party." "A client's son?" I sneered. "Is he important enough to have a whole group chat, to be tagged as 'sweetheart', and to even receive a large money transfer? Is he important enough to make you ignore your own son's birthday entirely?" In an instant, the living room fell silent except for the sound of breathing. Suzy rushed out of her room and grabbed my arm. "Christopher, let's not get carried away." I shook her off. "What? Are you going to help Mom and Dad lie to me too?" Suzy's face turned pale. Her lips moved, but not a single word came out. … The next day, on my birthday, the house was empty. A hundred dollars and a note were left on the table. The note was in Mom's handwriting. "Chris, the money is on the table. Buy yourself something good to eat." Chapter 2 My parents had treated me with the same indifference for ten years. Even the amount of money they gave me had never changed. I crumpled the bill into a tight ball and tossed it into the trash. After last night ended badly, they stopped pretending altogether. I heard Mom talking on the phone in her room. Her voice was brimming with excitement. "The venue is already set up. It looks just like a fairy tale!" Dad was giving instructions on the balcony. "Bring the bottle of '82 Lafite. We have to make sure Ben enjoys himself today." All the while, I drifted through the house like a ghost. Suzy left early that morning. Before she went, she glanced at me with a complicated look. "Christopher, no matter what you see, trust me." Trust her? Trust that she was part of this deception too? I let out a cold laugh and said nothing. Around noon, a delivery truck stopped downstairs. Two workers unloaded an enormous gift box tied with an exaggerated blue bow. I stood by the window and watched. It turned out that, to them, I didn't even deserve a gift. Mom hurried downstairs, smiling from ear to ear as she signed for the delivery. She directed the workers with extreme care, afraid it might get damaged. I recognized the logo. It was a limited edition piano released just last month, priced well into six figures. Meanwhile, my old piano, which I had used for ten years, had yellowed keys and was out of tune. I had hinted at it to Mom before, but she always replied, "If it still works, keep using it. The household expenses are heavy." It turned out that the expenses were not the problem. I simply wasn't worth it. The last trace of hope in my heart was completely extinguished. That afternoon, I changed into a black suit. I neatly styled my hair and adjusted my appearance to conceal the exhaustion in my eyes. I couldn't let them see me in such a disheveled state. I would draw a clear line between us with my head held high. I had overheard the address for the party during Mom's phone call the night before. They had reserved the most prestigious banquet hall in the city. I took a cab there. Along the way, the driver kept marveling at the impending event. "Young man, what big occasion is it today? The road ahead is blocked. I heard that some rich family is throwing a birthday party for their son, and it's incredibly extravagant." I forced a faint smile and said nothing. Yes, the party was grand—so grand that it was built on ten years of my grievances. A long red carpet stretched across the entrance of the hall, flanked by rows of blue rose arrangements. On the welcome sign at the entrance, elegant cursive letters read, "Happy Birthday to My Sweetheart." It was signed, "With love, your Mom and Dad." I stared at those words, finding them painfully glaring. I took out my phone and sent Suzy a message. "I'm here to see your so-called surprise." Then I took a deep breath and stepped inside in my leather shoes. Inside the banquet hall, glasses clinked, and laughter filled the air. My parents stood in the middle of the crowd, smiling warmly as they entertained the guests. Beside them stood a boy dressed in a blue formal suit. That was Benjamin. He looked like a proud peacock, basking in everyone's attention and well-wishes. Mom personally placed an exquisite diamond crown on his head and said gently, "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince." Dad handed him a velvet box containing a dazzling diamond watch. "Do you like it? I had it custom-made just for you." Benjamin smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. You are so good to me." The guests around them gasped in admiration. "Oliver, I can't believe how well you're treating your godson. You're doting on him more than your own son!" "Exactly. With generosity like this, we can't even compare." "Oliver, he's only a godson, and you're already treating him like this. If it were your own son's birthday, you'd probably pluck the stars from the sky!" My parents laughed heartily. They waved their hands repeatedly and said, "It's the least we could do." No one noticed me standing in the corner. I held up my phone and recorded the scene clearly. Then, I straightened my suit, picked up a glass of champagne, and slowly walked toward them. The surrounding noise seemed to fade away. All I could see was that harmonious "family of three". Mom raised her glass and announced to the guests, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate our sweetheart's birthday today—" "Your sweetheart?" I asked. Chapter 3 I repeated Mom's words in an icy tone. The smiles on my parents' faces vanished instantly. Mom reacted faster. She stepped forward and reached for my hand, but I turned aside and avoided her. "Chris, why are you here?" she asked. Her voice trembled. "Come here, let me introduce you. This is—" I cut her off, fixing my gaze squarely on Benjamin. "This is Benjamin Smith, your sweetheart, right?" The smile faded from Benjamin's face as well. He looked at me, visibly at a loss. A flicker of sympathy passed through his eyes before he turned to my parents for help. "Who is this?" a guest asked. Dad's face darkened completely. He lowered his voice and snapped, "Christopher Blake! Stop causing trouble here and go home!" "Causing trouble?" I laughed coldly. "Dad, did you forget what day it is? Today is also your own son's birthday—mine." I spoke every word clearly. Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd. Everyone's eyes shifted back and forth between my parents and me, filled with curiosity and gossip. "So he's the real son… Then—" "Unbelievable. How can they ignore their own son's birthday and throw such a massive party for an outsider?" "What's Mr. Blake thinking? I honestly don't understand it." As the murmurs reached my parents, their expressions darkened. Mom's lips trembled. Dad's eyes went from panicked to furious. "That's enough!" Dad slammed his hand on the table. "Did you really have to ruin everything today?" "Ruin everything?" I raised my phone and clicked on a video. "Mom, who's really ruining everything? Who's the one who's preparing a surprise for me while putting a crown on someone else and giving him a watch?" On the screen, the footage clearly showed Mom gently placing the crown on Benjamin's head. "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince," she said. Those words echoed through the silent banquet hall from the phone's speaker. All the color drained from Mom's face. I switched to the group photo. "And this—how did the son of your so-called important client become your sweetheart?" I turned the screen toward the crowd so everyone could see the photo and the comments beneath it. The guests' faces contorted with surprise, judgment, and disbelief. Dad trembled with rage. He jabbed a finger at me wordlessly. "Christopher Blake, y-you—" "What?" I asked. I met his gaze. My eyes were welling up, but my voice stayed cold. "I just want to ask you this in person. Does having a new son feel so much better than having me? What did I do to deserve being humiliated and cast aside like this?" My voice grew louder, echoing the ten years of anguish I suffered. Benjamin's face turned pale. He tugged at Mom's sleeve and whispered, "Mrs. Blake, this—" Mom yanked her hand away from him. She looked at me with eyes full of regret. "Chris, it's not what you think. It's really not what you think!" "Then, what is it?" I demanded. "Come on, say it!" At that moment, the doors of the banquet hall were pushed open. Suzy rushed in. When she saw the tense standoff, her face went pale. She ran up to me and gripped my arm tightly. Her voice was shaking. "Christopher, listen to my explanation!" "Enough! I don't want to hear any more explanations from you!" I shouted. I struggled to break free from her. I had already achieved my purpose today. I wanted everyone to see the true faces of my so-called model parents, letting the carefully crafted image they had spent years building fall apart today. I raised my phone high, ready to project the group chat screenshots onto the big screen. "Mom, Dad, this show is over!" Just as I was about to press the projection button, Suzy snatched my phone and clutched it tightly to her chest. "Christopher! Please! Just wait five more minutes!" Her eyes were red, and her voice was filled with desperation.
"Slow down or we're going to have an accident!" I screamed as my brother swerved around the semi, just as a biker crested the hill, heading straight for us. Then everything went black. When I wake up, I'm staring into the stormy eyes of Eagle, VP of the Soldiers of Retribution MC. My reckless brother fled the crash, leaving me to face the consequences. Now Eagle's demanding answers, his grip bruising my arm. "Give me the driver's name," he growls, but I can't betray my own brother, even if he abandoned me. Trapped in their clubhouse, I expect violence. Instead, I get something worse: a peck that sears my soul. Eagle's touch ignites a fire I can't control, even as his threats send chills down my spine. The Soldiers don't take betrayal lightly, and my loyalty to Ron might cost me everything—including my heart. ——————— Leona "Slow down or we're going to have an accident." My brother, Ron, was all over the road and getting on my last nerve. He was a reckless driver by choice, so I knew that my words were wasted, but someday he was going to regret not listening to me. "Relax, Sis." He swerved around another vehicle, which were far and few on the country road, and I clutched the dashboard to keep from being thrown against the door. "I've never had an accident." I rolled my eyes. Never say never, I wanted to tell him. "Yet," I stressed with a tight mouth. We were coming up fast on a semi, a rare sight on this road, and I held my breath, waiting for Ron's next move. It was a two-lane country road and there was a hill ahead of us. "What the heck are you doing?" I cried out when Ron pulled into the oncoming lane. I glared at him as if he were crazy, which he was. "Ron!" I screamed, panicked. "It's clear," he laughed my concern away. "I checked. See?" It was clear, and he accelerated to go around the semi. Just as we were even with the cab of the truck we were trying to pass, a motorcycle crested the hill, coming from the opposite direction, and headed straight for us. I let out a scream when I realized that our only course was to back off and move back behind the semi again. "Ron?" I said in a warning tone when it didn't appear that he was slowing down. "I got time!" I stared at the road ahead of us, my eyes rounding in fear as the motorcyclist got closer. "Ron!" This wasn't happening! "We're going to hit him!" Panic overwhelmed me as our window of making a life-saving decision narrowed. My gaze focused on the biker. I couldn't see his face because of his visor, but I got the sense that he was braking. Because of the speed he was going his bike wobbled slightly and I gasped, thinking that I was about to see him lose control. His options weren't great. "Ron..." My heart moved up into my throat. I was certain that I was about to see a man die, and in a horrible way. "God!" Ron cursed, finally realizing that he wasn't going to make it. He slammed on the brakes, allowing the semi to continue past us, but it was too late for the biker. Everything happened in a blur after that. Ron swore again. I screamed and braced myself. The motorcyclist veered off the road, losing control on the gravel shoulder and skidding into the wet grass. I turned in my seat to watch where he ended up, crying out when his bike slammed into a small tree. "Ohmygod! Stop the car!" I demanded as Ron continued down the road, along with the semi, each of them acting as if nothing had happened. "Ron, stop the car!" I grabbed at the door handle, fully prepared to exit the moving vehicle. "He could be hurt!" He could be dead! In sheer desperation I grabbed the wheel. Cursing beneath his breath, Ron swerved over to the shoulder, braking hard enough to send me slamming into the dash. He glared at me, I glared back, his mouth opening as if to say something. "Don't say a word, dumbhip!" I swore as I opened the door and jumped out. I ran to the biker. His bike had hit the tree head on, and it was obvious that he'd been thrown. The bike was destroyed. I only prayed that the man had survived. I crouched down next to him, taking note of the twisted way in which he was resting on the damp ground. Oh my God! "Is he okay?" I could hear the nervousness in Ron's voice as he hovered close by. "It was a accident!" he whined. "He should have slowed down!" He was already making excuses for his bad behavior, one of his familiar traits. "You were the one in the wrong!" I snapped, shooting him a look of anger. I was so mad I was shaking. A low moan indicated that the man on the ground was alive. "Help me turn him over. And be careful!" When Ron didn't move, I glanced back at him. He was slowly backing up, a look of horror on his thin face. He shook his head. "No..." His eyes met mine. "Do you know who he is? He's with the Soldiers of Retribution!" The fear in his wild eyes held me momentarily frozen. I'd heard of the local MC, had seen them riding around town, but had never been close to any of them. I returned my gaze to the motionless man on the ground, taking in the words on the back of his leather jacket. "So?" I said after a while. "He's hurt. We have to help him." Ron continued to shake his head, his backward steps never faltering as they took him back to his car. "Come on. We have to leave him. They'll kill us..." I snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Get a grip, Ron. It was an accident, as you pointed out. We're not going to leave an injured man on the side of the road. It could be hours before anyone else comes along. Now help me turn him over so I can see how hurt he is." Ron hesitated and then reluctantly walked back to me. Together we managed to turn the huge man over until he was on his back. His low groan of pain sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted his cracked visor to get a look at his face. "Okay, we've turned him over, now let's go." "Are you serious right now? Jesus, Ron!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving him!" I said harshly, running my eyes over the man as I tried to assess his injuries. The blood on his forehead and the side of his face revealed that he had a head injury. "We have to go!" Ron reached down, grabbed my arm, and tried to haul me to my feet. "Before anyone comes!" "What is wrong with you?" I snarled, jerking my arm away and falling back to the ground. "Call an ambulance!" The man groaned again, louder this time. "After we leave here, we'll call for an ambulance. You don't want to get on the bad side of the Soldiers." "Then you go!" I yelled, furious and fed up with him. I wasn't familiar with the reputation of the Soldiers of Retribution, but I'd never seen or heard anything negative about them. In fact, just the opposite. But something had my brother spooked. "I'll call you when I get home." I couldn't keep the disgust out of my tone. I returned my attention to the man on the ground and caught my breath. His eyes were open and he was staring up at me, pain etched on his chiseled features. He wet his lips. "Can you move?" I asked him worriedly. "God, that hurt." He ignored me. "Call..." For the first time I noticed that he'd reached for something in his jacket and was struggling to get it out. Behind me I heard Ron take off. I shook my head with deep disappointment and realized that his running away was only going to cause him more problems. "Here, let me." I gently moved the man's hand aside and dug out his phone. "Who do you want me to call?" He started to say something, cleared his throat, and whispered, "Eagle..." "Eagle. Okay." I went down his contact list until I found Eagle and hit his number. "Shouldn't I call 911, too?" I caught the slight nod of his head that indicated yes. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I asked as Eagle's number rang. "Take my helmet off." I put his phone on my shoulder and did as he asked. "Where the heck are you, Brother? You're late." I cleared my throat. "Um, hello?" There was clear surprise in the silence I was met with. "Your brother has been in an accident." "Who the heck is this?" "Leona. We—" "What happened?" "It was a car accident." "God!" His breathing picked up, and I could tell that he was on the move. "Where are you, Leo?" Leo? I could hear the frown in his voice. "Down on the old farmer's road by the abandoned Kent farm." "Have you called 911?" "He, ah, asked me to call you first." "Call for an ambulance," he growled. "We're on our way." He hung up and I met the slightly dazed eyes of the man on the ground. His lips were pressed tightly together, an indication that he was in pain. I dialed 911, gave directions, and then hung up. "Are you in any pain?" I realized how stupid that sounded, but felt that conversation would keep him from passing out on me. He groaned. "God, lady, I hit a tree." His brown eyes moved over me as he tried to sit up. "Nice boyfriend you have, leaving you to fend for yourself." I wasn't about to inform him that Ron was my reckless, chicken-hearted eighteen-year-old brother. The less I said about him, the better. I watched him struggle for a minute before I bent to help him into a sitting position against the tree. "Do you feel like anything is broken?" He shook his head. "Just had the wind knocked out of me." "You might have a concussion," I offered when he brought his hand up to his head. He brought his hand down and looked at the blood. "Been worse." His gaze fell on his bike. He groaned. "Bike's history." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "My name is Leona." "Heard when you were talking to Eagle." He tried to stretch his leg out and winced in pain. "Thanks for staying. Name's Brew." Brew? Maybe it was short for something. I could hear motorcycles approaching in the distance. "That was fast," I murmured. "Clubhouse is just down the road," he explained. I knew the only thing down the road was Toby's salvage yard because we'd passed it earlier. Ron had told me that it had been sold a while back. "You must be the new owners." He groaned and laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "Yeah." I could tell that he didn't want to talk. I wished that there was something more I could do and was thankful when several motorcycles crested the hill in the distance, racing our way. The closer they got, the more nervous I got. The four men were big and kind of frightening-looking. They pulled up next to us, gravel and rocks crunching beneath the tires of their huge bikes. I stood up next to Brew's head as they rushed over to us. "The God, Brother, what happened?" The one asking the question crouched next to Brew. He glanced up at me. "You with him?" He was a formidable sight. His short hair matched the scruff on his tight jaw. Beautiful gray eyes peered up at me as he waited for an answer. There was a black tattoo around his thickly corded neck and down his left arm, his sleeveless shirt and cut revealing how muscular his arms were. I hadn't had the chance to get an idea of his height when he'd first arrived, but I could tell that he was built solid beneath his clothes. His faded jeans stretched tightly over his thighs. "No," I managed to get out from beneath his intense stare. "I, um, was in the car—" "Where the heck is it?" one of the other guys asked. They scanned the area before pinning their frowns back on me. "Gone," Brew muttered, drawing gray eyes back to him. For the first time I noticed that he was holding his left side. He'd grown paler. I was glad that I could hear the ambulance coming. "prick took off." Gray Eyes swung his gaze back up to me. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You want to tell me who he is?" Not really. I sensed it would be bad for Ron. Gray Eyes looked like he wanted to hurt someone. "Black Camaro," Brew uttered in a weakening voice. "We passed a Camaro," a tall blonde barked. The four men swapped looks, and Gray Eyes gave a jerk of his head. "Go." "Wait!" I called out as three of them turned at once to head for their bikes. "Are you going to hurt him? It was an accident!" Brew snorted. I knew that I was stretching the truth, but I didn't like the looks on their rugged faces. Gray Eyes stood up. "An accident, huh?" He was taller than I'd expected. "Why'd he run off then?" I swallowed, stepping back so I wouldn't have to crane my neck so much. "He was, um, afraid." "What kind of chicken mess leaves his girlfriend to handle his mess?" Yeah, chicken mess, that was my brother. I stared into the guy's beautiful eyes and took a calming breath. He crossed his arms in a move that could have been taken as threatening. "You gonna tell me who the heck he is?" I shook my head. "Not if you're going to hurt him." His brows shot up. "Hit and run." I silently agreed with him that it looked bad. "You don't think he deserves to pay for hitting someone and leaving them on the side of a road? For leaving his woman to face the consequences?" What? "Why should I face the consequences? I wasn't driving. And I stayed behind to help your friend." "Brother." He sucked in a deep breath and released it through his nose like an angry bull. I got the sense that he didn't like the fact that I wasn't cooperating. He leaned in close and muttered the words, "I want a name." I leaned back nervously, a little frightened by his imposing stature. I didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of man he was, or what he was capable of doing. He might be good to look at, but everything else about him was big and hard and kind of scary. "Don't scare her, Eagle." Eagle turned his head to look at Brew, then turned it back to pin those quick-silver eyes on me. He wanted a name? Playing stupid, I gave him a name. "Leona." Eagle God, she was cute, but I didn't have time to pursue my interest when Brew was groaning in pain. There was no telling how severe his injuries were. His bike was toast, the twisted, broken metal showing how hard he must have hit the tree against which he was resting. I was glad to see the ambulance come up over the hill. I narrowed my gaze on Leo, trying to intimidate her into telling me who the driver of the car that had hit Brew had been. I was good at intimidating people, especially civilians, but she was holding strong, standing there as if she could stare me down and win. Whoever the guy was, I knew he must be someone special to her. She was protecting him. Well, that was too bad. For her. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had a name. Whoever had hit Brew and then taken off was going to pay, one way or another. Soldiers of Retribution hadn't earned their name from ignoring the wrongs done to the club or its members, but I decided to let it go for now. When the ambulance pulled over and two EMTs jumped out, I stood out of the way. "What happened?" one of them asked. I glanced down at Brew. He'd grown pale and was close to losing consciousness. He didn't look capable of answering any questions, so I turned my attention to Leo, crossed my arms and raised a brow. "It was a car accident," she said. "I think he hit the tree headfirst." God, I thought. Brew was lucky to be alive. For the first time I noticed that his brain bucket was cracked and shattered. "Get the cervical collar," one EMT said to the other. "Did anyone call the sheriff?" "The chicken-mess driver drove off," I responded, getting a glare from Leo. Regret filled her eyes, but she kept them focused on mine without fear. "Hit and run? God!" A few minutes passed as they took Brew's vitals and fitted him with a neck brace. Then the one who'd retrieved the neck brace returned to the ambulance and came back with a stretcher. He lowered it to the ground, they carefully lifted Brew on top of it, and then raised it again. "We're taking him to Mid-Coast." I nodded. "He wakes, tell him his brothers will be there soon." I waited until he acknowledged that he'd heard me before turning back to the woman. "I want the name of the driver." She took a breath, which did wonders for her boobs when they stretched against the tee she was wearing. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her jaw just enough to let me know she was going to remain stubborn. "I'm sorry, I can't do that unless you promise not to hurt him." I frowned. "He someone special to you?" "Yes." "Boyfriend?" "No." That was all she offered. "God, woman." I was getting angry over our word play. I noticed that the change in my tone of voice caused her to take a little step back, and, using her fear to my advantage, I moved toward her menacingly. For every step I took closer to her she took one backwards. I almost grinned when her eyes began darting around the area as if she were looking for someone to help her. "You know who we are?" "I've heard of you." "Then you know we're the good guys." A burst of laughter escaped her. "It doesn't look like it right now." "You think this is funny?" She shook her head. "No!" Her backside came up against the tree Brew had slammed into, the breath rushing from between her parted lips. "I tend to laugh when I get nervous. And you're scaring me." "Oh, yeah?" I stopped when I was almost flush against her. A deep breath would have had me brushing against her boobs. "I can scare you a lot more if you don't give me what I want." "I don't appreciate you threatening me. I stayed with your brother. Made the calls for help. Is this how you repay an innocent bystander?" "You're hardly a bystander." I noticed the green of her eyes had little flakes of gold in them, and her lashes were thick and long, natural. The same color as her chestnut hair. I fought to keep from touching the silky waves, realizing that my thoughts of Brew were dulling and being replaced with inappropriate thoughts about Leo. "And I doubt anything about you is innocent." My gaze dropped to her lips, which were covered with a thin gloss. They were plump and tempting. God... My phone vibrated and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for the interruption. It was Lynx. "Did you catch up to him?" "No. He must have turned off somewhere." I kept my eyes on Leo's. "Head to Mid-Coast then. I'll meet you there." "Got it." Once he was off, I hit Wolfe's number. He started right in with, "Buck already called, Brother. You get the name of the driver from the witness?" My lips turned down, frustration evident in my tone, "No. She's not cooperating." "She still with you?" "Yup." "Bring her to the clubhouse. She goes nowhere until we get to the truth. For all we know this could be connected to those pricks the Maniacs and the trouble that went down in New York." I sucked in a deep breath because I sensed that this wasn't going to go over particularly well with the woman. Wolfe was right though--we needed to make sure that Brew hadn't been targeted because he used to ride with the Maniacs. Little Miss Leo may have been innocent, but whoever had been driving that car wasn't, and she was protecting them. "Will do." Wolfe hung up, but I pretended that I was still talking to him. "I'll lock her hip up in the basement." The clubhouse didn't have a basement, but Leo didn't know that. I'd said that part for her, rewarded when worry filled her eyes and she turned pale when she realized I was talking about her. I grinned, enjoying the color of alarm on her pretty face. "Looks like you're coming with me, darlin'." She shook her head and looked like she was going to bolt. "Look around you, Leo. You see anyone else you can hitch a ride with?" "God," I heard her low murmur. "My mama taught me to never go off with strangers. I'll walk." Knowing the area, I snorted. The clubhouse was down the road, about half a mile. After that it was a couple of miles to reach Georgetown. "It's settled then. You're coming with me." "So you can lock me up somewhere? I don't think so." She sank away from me as I stepped closer. I saw her wince as the bark of the tree dug into her back. "You ready to tell me who you're protecting?" She didn't respond but I could see the stubbornness in her eyes. "Then you have two choices. You can either sit behind me and hold on, or I'll put you in front of me and trust me, you won't like what you feel." She blinked. And blinked some more. My grin was suggestive, and once she figured out what I meant, she blushed and stuttered, "Y-You're a pig!" I shrugged. "Just being truthful. I'm a hip man and having one up against me gets me hard." I paused to emphasize. "Every time." I turned and headed for my bike with a grin on my face. "Better make up your mind, before I make it up for you." I climbed on and sat there waiting. I was surprised at the patience I was showing when I wasn't normally a patient man. Only I'd underestimated her stubbornness, and perseverance. When a car crested the hill, her eyes lit up, and I knew instinctively what she was going to do. She was going to cause trouble, that's what. She stepped away from the tree and headed toward the road excitedly. I jumped off my bike and intercepted her. I caught her up against me. "Let me go!" she demanded. The feel of her soft boobs rubbing against me reminded me that I'd been getting a oral job from Jezzie before we'd been interrupted by Leo's call. I still had a slight buzz from that. I inhaled Leo's intoxicating scent, something sweet and fresh, and exotic. The interest I'd pushed aside earlier came back with a vengeance. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and I gave in to a need I didn't know I had. I wanted to find out if her plump lips were as soft as they looked. I had to taste her. I slammed my mouth down on hers and pecked her hard. Leo struggled to get away for a second before it turned into something different and then she pecked me back. The small hands that had been pushing against my chest were now fisting my cut and holding me tightly. Her sweet mouth moved hungrily against mine, her moans of submission music to my ears. When our tongues meshed, all warm and wet, I lost it. The groan that escaped me sounded like one coming from a bear. An unexplainable need of arousal uncurled in my gut as my shaft rose to the occasion. Jesus, I should feel guilty for getting so turned on by Leo when Jillian was the one that I wanted. Jillian was the woman I'd been watching and waiting to make a move on, but the timing had never seemed right. Friends. We were still just friends. This woman meant nothing to me and yet having her in my arms was making me feel everything. The car's horn should have startled us apart. I reminded myself why I was pecking her in the first place and pulled away, anger close to the surface. Anger at myself for feeling guilty over how much I liked pecking Leo. I shouldn't like pecking another woman. God, I didn't even peck the sweet tarts. I slept them, though. I had needs and they were there for relief, and that was all. Until I made Jillian mine. God! I glared down at the little spitfire in my arms. She was flushed with heat, her eyes glossy. Her lips were swollen and wet. I'd done that to her, and I wondered what she saw on my face. God, I should never have pecked her, but the situation had called for drastic measures. To make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I curled my hand around the softness of her upper arm and pulled her with me. "Come on." She tried to pull away and I swung on her like a vicious dog. "I'm done!" I snarled in her face. She flinched but I kept going. "Now get your hip on my bike!" She stared at me for a minute and then wordlessly went to my bike. I waited for her to climb on before joining her. "You ever ridden before?" I swung my leg over. "No." "We don't have far to go. Just hold on and lean into any turns I take." I waited for her to wrap her arms around me, but it never happened. Her little hands tentatively clutched at my sides. I started my bike and reached down for her hands, wrapping her arms around me. I ignored her huff and crossed one hand over the other. "Don't let go." "Don't worry," came her snarky response. "I'm looking forward to being locked up in the basement." Grinning, I took off.
"Slow down or we're going to have an accident!" I screamed as my brother swerved around the semi, just as a biker crested the hill, heading straight for us. Then everything went black. When I wake up, I'm staring into the stormy eyes of Eagle, VP of the Soldiers of Retribution MC. My reckless brother fled the crash, leaving me to face the consequences. Now Eagle's demanding answers, his grip bruising my arm. "Give me the driver's name," he growls, but I can't betray my own brother, even if he abandoned me. Trapped in their clubhouse, I expect violence. Instead, I get something worse: a peck that sears my soul. Eagle's touch ignites a fire I can't control, even as his threats send chills down my spine. The Soldiers don't take betrayal lightly, and my loyalty to Ron might cost me everything—including my heart. ——————— Leona "Slow down or we're going to have an accident." My brother, Ron, was all over the road and getting on my last nerve. He was a reckless driver by choice, so I knew that my words were wasted, but someday he was going to regret not listening to me. "Relax, Sis." He swerved around another vehicle, which were far and few on the country road, and I clutched the dashboard to keep from being thrown against the door. "I've never had an accident." I rolled my eyes. Never say never, I wanted to tell him. "Yet," I stressed with a tight mouth. We were coming up fast on a semi, a rare sight on this road, and I held my breath, waiting for Ron's next move. It was a two-lane country road and there was a hill ahead of us. "What the heck are you doing?" I cried out when Ron pulled into the oncoming lane. I glared at him as if he were crazy, which he was. "Ron!" I screamed, panicked. "It's clear," he laughed my concern away. "I checked. See?" It was clear, and he accelerated to go around the semi. Just as we were even with the cab of the truck we were trying to pass, a motorcycle crested the hill, coming from the opposite direction, and headed straight for us. I let out a scream when I realized that our only course was to back off and move back behind the semi again. "Ron?" I said in a warning tone when it didn't appear that he was slowing down. "I got time!" I stared at the road ahead of us, my eyes rounding in fear as the motorcyclist got closer. "Ron!" This wasn't happening! "We're going to hit him!" Panic overwhelmed me as our window of making a life-saving decision narrowed. My gaze focused on the biker. I couldn't see his face because of his visor, but I got the sense that he was braking. Because of the speed he was going his bike wobbled slightly and I gasped, thinking that I was about to see him lose control. His options weren't great. "Ron..." My heart moved up into my throat. I was certain that I was about to see a man die, and in a horrible way. "God!" Ron cursed, finally realizing that he wasn't going to make it. He slammed on the brakes, allowing the semi to continue past us, but it was too late for the biker. Everything happened in a blur after that. Ron swore again. I screamed and braced myself. The motorcyclist veered off the road, losing control on the gravel shoulder and skidding into the wet grass. I turned in my seat to watch where he ended up, crying out when his bike slammed into a small tree. "Ohmygod! Stop the car!" I demanded as Ron continued down the road, along with the semi, each of them acting as if nothing had happened. "Ron, stop the car!" I grabbed at the door handle, fully prepared to exit the moving vehicle. "He could be hurt!" He could be dead! In sheer desperation I grabbed the wheel. Cursing beneath his breath, Ron swerved over to the shoulder, braking hard enough to send me slamming into the dash. He glared at me, I glared back, his mouth opening as if to say something. "Don't say a word, dumbhip!" I swore as I opened the door and jumped out. I ran to the biker. His bike had hit the tree head on, and it was obvious that he'd been thrown. The bike was destroyed. I only prayed that the man had survived. I crouched down next to him, taking note of the twisted way in which he was resting on the damp ground. Oh my God! "Is he okay?" I could hear the nervousness in Ron's voice as he hovered close by. "It was a accident!" he whined. "He should have slowed down!" He was already making excuses for his bad behavior, one of his familiar traits. "You were the one in the wrong!" I snapped, shooting him a look of anger. I was so mad I was shaking. A low moan indicated that the man on the ground was alive. "Help me turn him over. And be careful!" When Ron didn't move, I glanced back at him. He was slowly backing up, a look of horror on his thin face. He shook his head. "No..." His eyes met mine. "Do you know who he is? He's with the Soldiers of Retribution!" The fear in his wild eyes held me momentarily frozen. I'd heard of the local MC, had seen them riding around town, but had never been close to any of them. I returned my gaze to the motionless man on the ground, taking in the words on the back of his leather jacket. "So?" I said after a while. "He's hurt. We have to help him." Ron continued to shake his head, his backward steps never faltering as they took him back to his car. "Come on. We have to leave him. They'll kill us..." I snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Get a grip, Ron. It was an accident, as you pointed out. We're not going to leave an injured man on the side of the road. It could be hours before anyone else comes along. Now help me turn him over so I can see how hurt he is." Ron hesitated and then reluctantly walked back to me. Together we managed to turn the huge man over until he was on his back. His low groan of pain sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted his cracked visor to get a look at his face. "Okay, we've turned him over, now let's go." "Are you serious right now? Jesus, Ron!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving him!" I said harshly, running my eyes over the man as I tried to assess his injuries. The blood on his forehead and the side of his face revealed that he had a head injury. "We have to go!" Ron reached down, grabbed my arm, and tried to haul me to my feet. "Before anyone comes!" "What is wrong with you?" I snarled, jerking my arm away and falling back to the ground. "Call an ambulance!" The man groaned again, louder this time. "After we leave here, we'll call for an ambulance. You don't want to get on the bad side of the Soldiers." "Then you go!" I yelled, furious and fed up with him. I wasn't familiar with the reputation of the Soldiers of Retribution, but I'd never seen or heard anything negative about them. In fact, just the opposite. But something had my brother spooked. "I'll call you when I get home." I couldn't keep the disgust out of my tone. I returned my attention to the man on the ground and caught my breath. His eyes were open and he was staring up at me, pain etched on his chiseled features. He wet his lips. "Can you move?" I asked him worriedly. "God, that hurt." He ignored me. "Call..." For the first time I noticed that he'd reached for something in his jacket and was struggling to get it out. Behind me I heard Ron take off. I shook my head with deep disappointment and realized that his running away was only going to cause him more problems. "Here, let me." I gently moved the man's hand aside and dug out his phone. "Who do you want me to call?" He started to say something, cleared his throat, and whispered, "Eagle..." "Eagle. Okay." I went down his contact list until I found Eagle and hit his number. "Shouldn't I call 911, too?" I caught the slight nod of his head that indicated yes. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I asked as Eagle's number rang. "Take my helmet off." I put his phone on my shoulder and did as he asked. "Where the heck are you, Brother? You're late." I cleared my throat. "Um, hello?" There was clear surprise in the silence I was met with. "Your brother has been in an accident." "Who the heck is this?" "Leona. We—" "What happened?" "It was a car accident." "God!" His breathing picked up, and I could tell that he was on the move. "Where are you, Leo?" Leo? I could hear the frown in his voice. "Down on the old farmer's road by the abandoned Kent farm." "Have you called 911?" "He, ah, asked me to call you first." "Call for an ambulance," he growled. "We're on our way." He hung up and I met the slightly dazed eyes of the man on the ground. His lips were pressed tightly together, an indication that he was in pain. I dialed 911, gave directions, and then hung up. "Are you in any pain?" I realized how stupid that sounded, but felt that conversation would keep him from passing out on me. He groaned. "God, lady, I hit a tree." His brown eyes moved over me as he tried to sit up. "Nice boyfriend you have, leaving you to fend for yourself." I wasn't about to inform him that Ron was my reckless, chicken-hearted eighteen-year-old brother. The less I said about him, the better. I watched him struggle for a minute before I bent to help him into a sitting position against the tree. "Do you feel like anything is broken?" He shook his head. "Just had the wind knocked out of me." "You might have a concussion," I offered when he brought his hand up to his head. He brought his hand down and looked at the blood. "Been worse." His gaze fell on his bike. He groaned. "Bike's history." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "My name is Leona." "Heard when you were talking to Eagle." He tried to stretch his leg out and winced in pain. "Thanks for staying. Name's Brew." Brew? Maybe it was short for something. I could hear motorcycles approaching in the distance. "That was fast," I murmured. "Clubhouse is just down the road," he explained. I knew the only thing down the road was Toby's salvage yard because we'd passed it earlier. Ron had told me that it had been sold a while back. "You must be the new owners." He groaned and laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "Yeah." I could tell that he didn't want to talk. I wished that there was something more I could do and was thankful when several motorcycles crested the hill in the distance, racing our way. The closer they got, the more nervous I got. The four men were big and kind of frightening-looking. They pulled up next to us, gravel and rocks crunching beneath the tires of their huge bikes. I stood up next to Brew's head as they rushed over to us. "The God, Brother, what happened?" The one asking the question crouched next to Brew. He glanced up at me. "You with him?" He was a formidable sight. His short hair matched the scruff on his tight jaw. Beautiful gray eyes peered up at me as he waited for an answer. There was a black tattoo around his thickly corded neck and down his left arm, his sleeveless shirt and cut revealing how muscular his arms were. I hadn't had the chance to get an idea of his height when he'd first arrived, but I could tell that he was built solid beneath his clothes. His faded jeans stretched tightly over his thighs. "No," I managed to get out from beneath his intense stare. "I, um, was in the car—" "Where the heck is it?" one of the other guys asked. They scanned the area before pinning their frowns back on me. "Gone," Brew muttered, drawing gray eyes back to him. For the first time I noticed that he was holding his left side. He'd grown paler. I was glad that I could hear the ambulance coming. "prick took off." Gray Eyes swung his gaze back up to me. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You want to tell me who he is?" Not really. I sensed it would be bad for Ron. Gray Eyes looked like he wanted to hurt someone. "Black Camaro," Brew uttered in a weakening voice. "We passed a Camaro," a tall blonde barked. The four men swapped looks, and Gray Eyes gave a jerk of his head. "Go." "Wait!" I called out as three of them turned at once to head for their bikes. "Are you going to hurt him? It was an accident!" Brew snorted. I knew that I was stretching the truth, but I didn't like the looks on their rugged faces. Gray Eyes stood up. "An accident, huh?" He was taller than I'd expected. "Why'd he run off then?" I swallowed, stepping back so I wouldn't have to crane my neck so much. "He was, um, afraid." "What kind of chicken mess leaves his girlfriend to handle his mess?" Yeah, chicken mess, that was my brother. I stared into the guy's beautiful eyes and took a calming breath. He crossed his arms in a move that could have been taken as threatening. "You gonna tell me who the heck he is?" I shook my head. "Not if you're going to hurt him." His brows shot up. "Hit and run." I silently agreed with him that it looked bad. "You don't think he deserves to pay for hitting someone and leaving them on the side of a road? For leaving his woman to face the consequences?" What? "Why should I face the consequences? I wasn't driving. And I stayed behind to help your friend." "Brother." He sucked in a deep breath and released it through his nose like an angry bull. I got the sense that he didn't like the fact that I wasn't cooperating. He leaned in close and muttered the words, "I want a name." I leaned back nervously, a little frightened by his imposing stature. I didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of man he was, or what he was capable of doing. He might be good to look at, but everything else about him was big and hard and kind of scary. "Don't scare her, Eagle." Eagle turned his head to look at Brew, then turned it back to pin those quick-silver eyes on me. He wanted a name? Playing stupid, I gave him a name. "Leona." Eagle God, she was cute, but I didn't have time to pursue my interest when Brew was groaning in pain. There was no telling how severe his injuries were. His bike was toast, the twisted, broken metal showing how hard he must have hit the tree against which he was resting. I was glad to see the ambulance come up over the hill. I narrowed my gaze on Leo, trying to intimidate her into telling me who the driver of the car that had hit Brew had been. I was good at intimidating people, especially civilians, but she was holding strong, standing there as if she could stare me down and win. Whoever the guy was, I knew he must be someone special to her. She was protecting him. Well, that was too bad. For her. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had a name. Whoever had hit Brew and then taken off was going to pay, one way or another. Soldiers of Retribution hadn't earned their name from ignoring the wrongs done to the club or its members, but I decided to let it go for now. When the ambulance pulled over and two EMTs jumped out, I stood out of the way. "What happened?" one of them asked. I glanced down at Brew. He'd grown pale and was close to losing consciousness. He didn't look capable of answering any questions, so I turned my attention to Leo, crossed my arms and raised a brow. "It was a car accident," she said. "I think he hit the tree headfirst." God, I thought. Brew was lucky to be alive. For the first time I noticed that his brain bucket was cracked and shattered. "Get the cervical collar," one EMT said to the other. "Did anyone call the sheriff?" "The chicken-mess driver drove off," I responded, getting a glare from Leo. Regret filled her eyes, but she kept them focused on mine without fear. "Hit and run? God!" A few minutes passed as they took Brew's vitals and fitted him with a neck brace. Then the one who'd retrieved the neck brace returned to the ambulance and came back with a stretcher. He lowered it to the ground, they carefully lifted Brew on top of it, and then raised it again. "We're taking him to Mid-Coast." I nodded. "He wakes, tell him his brothers will be there soon." I waited until he acknowledged that he'd heard me before turning back to the woman. "I want the name of the driver." She took a breath, which did wonders for her boobs when they stretched against the tee she was wearing. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her jaw just enough to let me know she was going to remain stubborn. "I'm sorry, I can't do that unless you promise not to hurt him." I frowned. "He someone special to you?" "Yes." "Boyfriend?" "No." That was all she offered. "God, woman." I was getting angry over our word play. I noticed that the change in my tone of voice caused her to take a little step back, and, using her fear to my advantage, I moved toward her menacingly. For every step I took closer to her she took one backwards. I almost grinned when her eyes began darting around the area as if she were looking for someone to help her. "You know who we are?" "I've heard of you." "Then you know we're the good guys." A burst of laughter escaped her. "It doesn't look like it right now." "You think this is funny?" She shook her head. "No!" Her backside came up against the tree Brew had slammed into, the breath rushing from between her parted lips. "I tend to laugh when I get nervous. And you're scaring me." "Oh, yeah?" I stopped when I was almost flush against her. A deep breath would have had me brushing against her boobs. "I can scare you a lot more if you don't give me what I want." "I don't appreciate you threatening me. I stayed with your brother. Made the calls for help. Is this how you repay an innocent bystander?" "You're hardly a bystander." I noticed the green of her eyes had little flakes of gold in them, and her lashes were thick and long, natural. The same color as her chestnut hair. I fought to keep from touching the silky waves, realizing that my thoughts of Brew were dulling and being replaced with inappropriate thoughts about Leo. "And I doubt anything about you is innocent." My gaze dropped to her lips, which were covered with a thin gloss. They were plump and tempting. God... My phone vibrated and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for the interruption. It was Lynx. "Did you catch up to him?" "No. He must have turned off somewhere." I kept my eyes on Leo's. "Head to Mid-Coast then. I'll meet you there." "Got it." Once he was off, I hit Wolfe's number. He started right in with, "Buck already called, Brother. You get the name of the driver from the witness?" My lips turned down, frustration evident in my tone, "No. She's not cooperating." "She still with you?" "Yup." "Bring her to the clubhouse. She goes nowhere until we get to the truth. For all we know this could be connected to those pricks the Maniacs and the trouble that went down in New York." I sucked in a deep breath because I sensed that this wasn't going to go over particularly well with the woman. Wolfe was right though--we needed to make sure that Brew hadn't been targeted because he used to ride with the Maniacs. Little Miss Leo may have been innocent, but whoever had been driving that car wasn't, and she was protecting them. "Will do." Wolfe hung up, but I pretended that I was still talking to him. "I'll lock her hip up in the basement." The clubhouse didn't have a basement, but Leo didn't know that. I'd said that part for her, rewarded when worry filled her eyes and she turned pale when she realized I was talking about her. I grinned, enjoying the color of alarm on her pretty face. "Looks like you're coming with me, darlin'." She shook her head and looked like she was going to bolt. "Look around you, Leo. You see anyone else you can hitch a ride with?" "God," I heard her low murmur. "My mama taught me to never go off with strangers. I'll walk." Knowing the area, I snorted. The clubhouse was down the road, about half a mile. After that it was a couple of miles to reach Georgetown. "It's settled then. You're coming with me." "So you can lock me up somewhere? I don't think so." She sank away from me as I stepped closer. I saw her wince as the bark of the tree dug into her back. "You ready to tell me who you're protecting?" She didn't respond but I could see the stubbornness in her eyes. "Then you have two choices. You can either sit behind me and hold on, or I'll put you in front of me and trust me, you won't like what you feel." She blinked. And blinked some more. My grin was suggestive, and once she figured out what I meant, she blushed and stuttered, "Y-You're a pig!" I shrugged. "Just being truthful. I'm a hip man and having one up against me gets me hard." I paused to emphasize. "Every time." I turned and headed for my bike with a grin on my face. "Better make up your mind, before I make it up for you." I climbed on and sat there waiting. I was surprised at the patience I was showing when I wasn't normally a patient man. Only I'd underestimated her stubbornness, and perseverance. When a car crested the hill, her eyes lit up, and I knew instinctively what she was going to do. She was going to cause trouble, that's what. She stepped away from the tree and headed toward the road excitedly. I jumped off my bike and intercepted her. I caught her up against me. "Let me go!" she demanded. The feel of her soft boobs rubbing against me reminded me that I'd been getting a oral job from Jezzie before we'd been interrupted by Leo's call. I still had a slight buzz from that. I inhaled Leo's intoxicating scent, something sweet and fresh, and exotic. The interest I'd pushed aside earlier came back with a vengeance. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and I gave in to a need I didn't know I had. I wanted to find out if her plump lips were as soft as they looked. I had to taste her. I slammed my mouth down on hers and pecked her hard. Leo struggled to get away for a second before it turned into something different and then she pecked me back. The small hands that had been pushing against my chest were now fisting my cut and holding me tightly. Her sweet mouth moved hungrily against mine, her moans of submission music to my ears. When our tongues meshed, all warm and wet, I lost it. The groan that escaped me sounded like one coming from a bear. An unexplainable need of arousal uncurled in my gut as my shaft rose to the occasion. Jesus, I should feel guilty for getting so turned on by Leo when Jillian was the one that I wanted. Jillian was the woman I'd been watching and waiting to make a move on, but the timing had never seemed right. Friends. We were still just friends. This woman meant nothing to me and yet having her in my arms was making me feel everything. The car's horn should have startled us apart. I reminded myself why I was pecking her in the first place and pulled away, anger close to the surface. Anger at myself for feeling guilty over how much I liked pecking Leo. I shouldn't like pecking another woman. God, I didn't even peck the sweet tarts. I slept them, though. I had needs and they were there for relief, and that was all. Until I made Jillian mine. God! I glared down at the little spitfire in my arms. She was flushed with heat, her eyes glossy. Her lips were swollen and wet. I'd done that to her, and I wondered what she saw on my face. God, I should never have pecked her, but the situation had called for drastic measures. To make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I curled my hand around the softness of her upper arm and pulled her with me. "Come on." She tried to pull away and I swung on her like a vicious dog. "I'm done!" I snarled in her face. She flinched but I kept going. "Now get your hip on my bike!" She stared at me for a minute and then wordlessly went to my bike. I waited for her to climb on before joining her. "You ever ridden before?" I swung my leg over. "No." "We don't have far to go. Just hold on and lean into any turns I take." I waited for her to wrap her arms around me, but it never happened. Her little hands tentatively clutched at my sides. I started my bike and reached down for her hands, wrapping her arms around me. I ignored her huff and crossed one hand over the other. "Don't let go." "Don't worry," came her snarky response. "I'm looking forward to being locked up in the basement." Grinning, I took off.
Hiring a woman to manage our MC club's security system? I initially scoffed. Until I saw her hold a knife to a bimbo's neck. "If you disrespect me..." Antonia raised her eyebrow., "and I will gut you like a fish, fillet your insides, and feed them to the birds!" God.Major.Turn.On. There's nothing s-e-xier than a woman who knows her way around a weapon and isn't scared to use it. This feisty minx is not what I was expecting. I like the fire I see in her eyes. I like knowing that she can handle her own. As she walks away, my eyes move down to her butt, and... I'm already having images in my head of grabbing on to those perfect globes and squeezing while I screw her into the mattress. "Good luck with that one.She ain't no club bunny."A biker said. I don't need luck. I want Antonia Romano, and I always get what I want. She. Is. Mine. ———————— BEAST The passenger door opens and a blonde with creamy skin, standing about five foot seven, steps out, holding a cat that looks a lot like a cheetah. I'm confused. I thought they said these were their sisters. I mean, don't get me wrong. It'll be nice to have two new women to look at, but I want to know why the twins said they were both their sisters, when clearly, she isn't. The driver finally exits, or should I say hops down, because she's short. She can't be more than five foot three, and I have no doubt she's related to the twins. She has that same Antoniamel skin color that they have, and the same brown hair, except hers is long and wavy, flowing down her back. That's not the only thing I notice. She is s-e-x-y. I've yet to see her face because she has on shades, but her body is to kill for. She's wearing a red, spaghetti-strap dress that's stops mid-thigh, with a jean jacket, and a pair of red Converses. Not the dressiest outfit, but on her it's s-exy. She's curvier than most, with well-rounded hips, thick thighs, and a nice set of ti-ts. My shaft is rock hard just looking at her. "Why would the twins bring them here?" Gunner asks with a shake of his head. Clearly, I'm not the only one with these thoughts as I look at all my club brothers. They're basically undressing the girls with their eyes. The one in red goes to the back door and opens it. I almost sh-it my pants. Two of the biggest Great Danes I have ever seen jump out of the truck. They both have all-black fur with their ears cropped. What is she feeding them? They both almost come to her chest. "Down, Duke, no!" Blade shouts. He's currently being taken down to the ground while the dog jumps and licks all over his face. "Somebody was missed," Axel says with a snicker. That earns a couple of chuckles from the group. "Sitz!" the woman in red tells the dog. To everyone's surprise, the dog doesn't hesitate to follow her command. After a few hugs and laughs among themselves, they finally approach us. My eyes are completely focused on the one in red. The blonde looks like she's nervous enough, while I can't really read the one in red. "Yo, Torch, I thought you said they were both your sisters?" Ink asks. He's never one to beat around the bush. You can always count on him to be blunt. Torch opens his mouth, but the little minx in red beats him to it. "Sara is our sister. Blood doesn't make any difference," she says as she removes her shades. The look she's sending Ink's way is daring him to say something else about the matter. I think he sees it too, because he quickly shuts up. My mouth drops open in shock at her boldness. Most women would be afraid to challenge a man our size, especially a biker. She doesn't look the least bit afraid of us and that only piques my interest in her. As if she can feel me staring at her, she turns and looks my way, and I'm momentarily stunned silent. She is hands down the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. Those same gold eyes as her brothers are stunning on her. She has nice, full pouty lips, with a bit of an angelic look about her. As I start scanning her body from head to toe, I notice a few tattoos. She has a half-sleeve on her left arm with roses, skulls and vines all tangled together and a dove on her collarbone. "Everyone, these are our sisters, Sara," Blade says, pointing to the blonde. "And Antonia," he finishes, pointing to the one in red. Antonia. It's a s-e-xy name, and I'm going to make it my mission to get this woman into my bed. The twins didn't say they were off-limits, so I'm going to take my chances and do as Blade said. I'm going to shoot my shot. "Sara, Antonia, these are our club bothers." Blade proceeds to tell the girls all our names. When he gets to Tiny, the girls break out into a fit of giggles. "Is that some kind of sick joke?" Antonia asks in between laughter. All the guys are grinning because Tiny is the exact opposite of tiny. He's a fuckin' mountain. I'll never be dumb enough to piss that big jerk-off. Blade grins at his sister and shakes his head no. "Cam, the man is six foot ten, roughly two hundred and eighty pounds of muscle, and you call him... Tiny?" she asks in disbelief. "Antonia, I told you to call me Blade!" She looks at her brother like he's grown two heads. "Oh, please. We shared a womb for nine months, and I came out first, making me the oldest. I will not call you 'Blade.'" "Wait, shared a womb?" I ask, not sure she means what I think she means. "Wow. I'm kind of hurt you two. At first, I thought the prospects didn't know because let's be real, you all probably don't tell them sh-it anyway. But even your club bothers don't know we're triplets," she says with a pout. I'm sure I'm not the only one whose eyes are wide and mouths hanging wide open. Torch snorts at his sister. "Oh, cut the sh-it, Antonia. They didn't even know we had sisters until we called you asking you to take this job. Even though we're legit, we still have enemies, and we didn't want you to ever be in danger." Antonia's eyes soften a bit at her brother's words. You can tell by the way they look at each other, they're close. I never got the chance to have a sibling. Mom didn't even want me. Axel, my best friend, is the closest thing to a brother that I have. "I just have a few questions," I say, looking at Antonia. She raises a brow, telling me to go on. "Have those two big jerks eaten today? And is that a parrot on his back?" Sara and Antonia break out into giggles again. After she gets them under control, she answers me. "The Great Danes are Duke and Daisy. They're really chill unless you're trying to hurt me or Sara. That's when you have to worry about them eating you. As for the parrot, that's Demon, my blue and yellow macaw. Be warned, he has a foul mouth and loves to talk sh-it. And this big guy in Sara's arms is Draco. He's a Savannah cat. Beware that cat has a mean streak, and the only person he really likes is Sara." She holds her arm out and calls the bird over. He lands, and then she sets him on her shoulder. His little head is scanning the crowd as if he's trying to figure us out. "Sup, bitches!" he screeches as he fully extends his wings. The guys howl with laughter. I know she just warned us, but I didn't expect that. Antonia face-palms herself and shakes her head. "D, I swear. Can you just act right for one day? Just one?" She holds up one finger. "Can you get a man?" he asks with a head tilt. Some of the guys try to smother their laugh with a cough, while most are just outright laughing. "Chris, can you take me to my room so I can die of embarrassment now?" That just causes the guys to laugh even harder. "Come on, sis, I'll show you to your room. You too, Sara." The girls move to follow, and I quickly block Antonia's path. "I know you both just got here, but do you think you can meet us for Church in a couple of hours?" She tilts her to the side and scrunches up her face. It makes her look even more adorable. What? Adorable. Who is she turning me into? I can tell she's confused by my use of the word "Church" so I quickly clear that up. "Not that kind of church, babe. It's what we call our club meeting. Normally, only members are allowed, but we want to know what all you have planned for upping the security around the clubhouse." "Uh, sure. Just let me get the pets set up and we'll be ready." As she walks away, my eyes move down to her a-s-s, and... I should've known from the front she would be packing in the back. Her a-s-s is easily two handfuls, maybe more. I love a woman with a nice a-s-s and hers is perfection. I'm already having images in my head of grabbing on to those perfect globes and squeezing while I screw her into the mattress. The club bunnies are so skinny. Most of 'em you can see their ribs. I don't know why they think that's s-e-xy cuz it's not. I'm a big guy, and I want something to hold on to while I'm fu-cking. I look up and see my dad staring at me, shaking his head. "Good luck with that one, son. She ain't no club bunny." He turns and walks away, still shaking his head. I don't need luck. I want Antonia Romano, and I always get what I want. She. Is. Mine. ANTONIA As soon as the door to my room closes, I try to calm my fast-beating heart. Beast. That man is by far the sexiest man I have ever laid my eyes on—six foot five, tan skin, with a five-o'clock shadow and a body built on pure muscles. His gray eyes, short, black hair and chiseled jaw had my lady parts tingling just looking at him. His arms and neck were covered in tattoos. I wonder if he has more under those clothes? This is going to be a rough two weeks. BOB, aka my battery-operated boyfriend, is going to be getting used regularly. "Those men are s-e-x on legs. Like seriously, not one is bad looking. How is that possible?" Sara asks, walking through the connecting door to our rooms. I thought that was cool that they put us in rooms right beside each other. It makes us feel a little safer. I know Chris and Cam would never bring us anywhere that would be unsafe, but still, the gesture definitely helps. "I don't know, but I'm trying to get my libido to behave, so just give me a minute." I'm fanning my face, trying to get myself under control. I have truly never felt this way about a man. Ever. At twenty-five years old, I'm still a virgin. I know what you're thinking. No, I'm not saving myself for marriage, but I also don't want to have s-e-x just to have it. I've been waiting for someone to bring that primal need out of me, and I think that man is Beast. Only time will tell, though. I start unpacking my stuff, and before I know it, Cam is knocking on my door, letting me know it's time to meet with the guys. I quickly put Demon on his perch I set up in my room and follow Cam down the hallway. We walk into a room with a huge wooden table. Most of the guys are already here. Chris takes us to our seats. Sara and I are set up in between Chris and Cam. Beast walks in, and my libido kicks back into gear. This man is s-e-xy. I honestly don't think I'll be leaving this clubhouse a virgin. "Alright, fellas, y'all know why we're here. Let's not waste any time. Girls, the floor is yours." "Girls?" I ask with a brow raised. I'm a grown-as-s woman and I will not be called "girl." "Believe me, baby, no one is mistaking that you are all women. Didn't mean to offend you." Beast's eyes are heated while he stares at me. When he licks his lips, I feel a rush of arousal. God help me, because I'm two seconds away from dragging this man out of this room and letting him have his way with me, meeting be d-a-m-ned. Quickly getting myself together, I get right to it.
Learn about the key skills for success in truck driving careers and explore what to consider for your future.
Read about work in New Zealand as a truck driver to understand licensing considerations, route structures, and the types of duties often involved in logistics and transportation services.
Truck driver Daniel saves kidnapped heiress Sarah. They share a night together. An immortal soul struck by lightning is reborn inside Sarah, causing an unexpected pregnancy. When she considers not keeping the baby, Daniel hears a voice: "Don't sign! I'm truly your son!"
Truck driver Daniel saves kidnapped heiress Sarah. They share a night together. An immortal soul struck by lightning is reborn inside Sarah, causing an unexpected pregnancy. When she considers not keeping the baby, Daniel hears a voice: "Don't sign! I'm truly your son!"
Sophia married Edward into hell: jailed, lost leg, died in fire. His satisfaction turned to void. Months later, "Anna" resembling her appears at gala, smilingly controls him for revenge...
Truck driver Daniel saves kidnapped heiress Sarah. They share a night together. An immortal soul struck by lightning is reborn inside Sarah, causing an unexpected pregnancy. When she considers not keeping the baby, Daniel hears a voice: "Don't sign! I'm truly your son!"
Hard work matters. So does being kind. But neither one protects you from being overlooked, pressured, or used by people who understand human nature better than you do. People Skills fills that gap. It's one of those books you open to a random page and immediately have to stop and think. Worth reading before life teaches you the same lesson the expensive way. Only 300 book printed every week, get yours here: https://theosli.com/products/people-skills-wisdom-for-navigating-breakdowns-practical-and-nuanced-strategies-for-dealing-with-people-social-skills
Truck driver Daniel saves kidnapped heiress Sarah. They share a night together. An immortal soul struck by lightning is reborn inside Sarah, causing an unexpected pregnancy. When she considers not keeping the baby, Daniel hears a voice: "Don't sign! I'm truly your son!"
💔He took my vrrg!nity... then said, "I'm a werewolf. This isn't going to work." 🚗So I ran desperately. Pregnant. Alone. His texts? "Get an ab0rtion. I don't want a half-breed." 🌙Then I walked into a small-town diner. Where a cowboy with sky-blue eyes sat down across from me. Tanned skin. Tattoos. Hands that looked like they could break a man in half. He leaned in close. "What pack are you running from?" I froze. "I'm... human." He smiled. Slow. Dangerous. "Then why do you smell like one of us?" 🐺Dane Black. Alpha. And the way he looks at me? Like I'm already HIS. Without thinking, I slipped my hand onto my belly...
🏙️ After years in foster care, Nova finally escapes to New York with one dream: a life she can call her own. By pure chance, she ends up in a whirlwind marriage with Dante—a quiet logistics driver who seems completely ordinary. 💍 Together, they build a small, peaceful life. A tiny apartment. Late-night takeout. Big dreams. ❤️ But Nova has fought too hard to lose everything again. 💼 She works day and night to protect the home they built. 🚨 And when danger threatens the life she loves, she’ll do anything to keep it. The only problem? Dante may not be the ordinary man she thinks he is… 👀 👉 Watch how one accidental marriage changes everything on AnyReel.
💔He took my vrrg!nity... then said, "I'm a werewolf. This isn't going to work." 🚗So I ran desperately. Pregnant. Alone. His texts? "Get an ab0rtion. I don't want a half-breed." 🌙Then I walked into a small-town diner. Where a cowboy with sky-blue eyes sat down across from me. Tanned skin. Tattoos. Hands that looked like they could break a man in half. He leaned in close. "What pack are you running from?" I froze. "I'm... human." He smiled. Slow. Dangerous. "Then why do you smell like one of us?" 🐺Dane Black. Alpha. And the way he looks at me? Like I'm already HIS. Without thinking, I slipped my hand onto my belly...
Mom accidentally adds me into a group chat called "Happy Family". In the group chat, I saw Mom, Dad, and a stranger who's nicknamed "sweetheart". They are in the middle of organizing a birthday party for him. However, the thing is, tomorrow will be my birthday, which they have forgotten for the tenth time in a row. Mom says, "The venue must be dreamy. I want him to feel like an actual prince." Dad transfers a huge sum of money to "sweetheart". "Money is no problem! Just don't let Christopher find out about this. It'll screw things up for us!" I quietly take screenshots of everything, planning to find a chance to expose my parents' true colors and end everything with them once and for all. At that moment, my younger sister, who's always been great at her studies, sends me a screenshot via our private chat. It's a screenshot of the chat history between her and Mom. "Mom, have you made preparations for Christopher's surprise party yet? You promised me that this is the last time you'd lie to him!" Chapter 1 I stared at the screenshots my sister, Suzy Blake, had sent me, and my heart sank. A surprise? The last time they would ever lie to me? That explained so much. Every year on my birthday, my parents would brush me off with all sorts of excuses. "Chris, something urgent came up at work," Mom once said. "Chris, I've got a meeting with a friend about business. Order some takeout for yourself," Dad once said. This year, they didn't even bother with excuses. They had simply replaced me with someone else. I tossed my phone aside. My chest felt as if something heavy had lodged itself there. Another message from Suzy popped up. "Christopher, don't overthink it. Mom and Dad just—" I replied with just two words. "Got it." Overthink it? How could I not overthink it? The facts were right in front of me. That birthday party for their "sweetheart" was the so-called surprise they had lied to me about. As their biological son, I was nothing more than a backdrop for another boy's happiness. I heard Mom's hushed voice from the living room as she spoke on the phone. "Right, we'll go with blue balloons, the biggest and brightest ones. Ben loves blue the most, so it has to be perfect for him." Ben. Listening closely to their conversation, I pieced together the boy's full name—Benjamin Smith. I picked up my phone and searched for the name on social media. Soon, a boy with a polished profile picture appeared. His highlighted stories were filled with glamorous photos of him traveling around the world. His most recent post was a photo of him with my parents, taken in my living room. In the photo, Mom and Dad's smiles were warm and loving. Mom's arm rested affectionately on Benjamin's shoulder, while Dad stood beside him with eyes full of indulgence. It was an expression I had never once seen on their faces. The caption read, "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's party!" Mom left a comment underneath. "Silly child, there's no need to be so formal with us." Meanwhile, Dad gave the post a like. What a perfect "family". I saved the photo along with the group chat screenshots and stored them in my encrypted album. These would be the "surprises" I planned to give them tomorrow. At dinner, Mom made soup and served me a bowl with exaggerated attentiveness. "Chris, try it. I made this especially for you," she said. I looked at the greasy chicken soup. My throat tightened as a wave of nausea surged up. "Is this supposed to liven up Benjamin's birthday party?" I asked lightly. The smile on Mom's face froze. She glanced at Dad, and his expression darkened immediately. "What nonsense are you talking about? Benjamin?" he replied. "Oh? Looks like you forget things easily, Dad." I took out my phone and opened the photo. "Isn't this boy your so-called sweetheart?" Dad's face turned ashen in an instant. Mom rushed to smooth things over. "Chris, you misunderstood. He's the son of an important client of mine. We're just helping to organize his birthday party." "A client's son?" I sneered. "Is he important enough to have a whole group chat, to be tagged as 'sweetheart', and to even receive a large money transfer? Is he important enough to make you ignore your own son's birthday entirely?" In an instant, the living room fell silent except for the sound of breathing. Suzy rushed out of her room and grabbed my arm. "Christopher, let's not get carried away." I shook her off. "What? Are you going to help Mom and Dad lie to me too?" Suzy's face turned pale. Her lips moved, but not a single word came out. … The next day, on my birthday, the house was empty. A hundred dollars and a note were left on the table. The note was in Mom's handwriting. "Chris, the money is on the table. Buy yourself something good to eat." Chapter 2 My parents had treated me with the same indifference for ten years. Even the amount of money they gave me had never changed. I crumpled the bill into a tight ball and tossed it into the trash. After last night ended badly, they stopped pretending altogether. I heard Mom talking on the phone in her room. Her voice was brimming with excitement. "The venue is already set up. It looks just like a fairy tale!" Dad was giving instructions on the balcony. "Bring the bottle of '82 Lafite. We have to make sure Ben enjoys himself today." All the while, I drifted through the house like a ghost. Suzy left early that morning. Before she went, she glanced at me with a complicated look. "Christopher, no matter what you see, trust me." Trust her? Trust that she was part of this deception too? I let out a cold laugh and said nothing. Around noon, a delivery truck stopped downstairs. Two workers unloaded an enormous gift box tied with an exaggerated blue bow. I stood by the window and watched. It turned out that, to them, I didn't even deserve a gift. Mom hurried downstairs, smiling from ear to ear as she signed for the delivery. She directed the workers with extreme care, afraid it might get damaged. I recognized the logo. It was a limited edition piano released just last month, priced well into six figures. Meanwhile, my old piano, which I had used for ten years, had yellowed keys and was out of tune. I had hinted at it to Mom before, but she always replied, "If it still works, keep using it. The household expenses are heavy." It turned out that the expenses were not the problem. I simply wasn't worth it. The last trace of hope in my heart was completely extinguished. That afternoon, I changed into a black suit. I neatly styled my hair and adjusted my appearance to conceal the exhaustion in my eyes. I couldn't let them see me in such a disheveled state. I would draw a clear line between us with my head held high. I had overheard the address for the party during Mom's phone call the night before. They had reserved the most prestigious banquet hall in the city. I took a cab there. Along the way, the driver kept marveling at the impending event. "Young man, what big occasion is it today? The road ahead is blocked. I heard that some rich family is throwing a birthday party for their son, and it's incredibly extravagant." I forced a faint smile and said nothing. Yes, the party was grand—so grand that it was built on ten years of my grievances. A long red carpet stretched across the entrance of the hall, flanked by rows of blue rose arrangements. On the welcome sign at the entrance, elegant cursive letters read, "Happy Birthday to My Sweetheart." It was signed, "With love, your Mom and Dad." I stared at those words, finding them painfully glaring. I took out my phone and sent Suzy a message. "I'm here to see your so-called surprise." Then I took a deep breath and stepped inside in my leather shoes. Inside the banquet hall, glasses clinked, and laughter filled the air. My parents stood in the middle of the crowd, smiling warmly as they entertained the guests. Beside them stood a boy dressed in a blue formal suit. That was Benjamin. He looked like a proud peacock, basking in everyone's attention and well-wishes. Mom personally placed an exquisite diamond crown on his head and said gently, "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince." Dad handed him a velvet box containing a dazzling diamond watch. "Do you like it? I had it custom-made just for you." Benjamin smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. You are so good to me." The guests around them gasped in admiration. "Oliver, I can't believe how well you're treating your godson. You're doting on him more than your own son!" "Exactly. With generosity like this, we can't even compare." "Oliver, he's only a godson, and you're already treating him like this. If it were your own son's birthday, you'd probably pluck the stars from the sky!" My parents laughed heartily. They waved their hands repeatedly and said, "It's the least we could do." No one noticed me standing in the corner. I held up my phone and recorded the scene clearly. Then, I straightened my suit, picked up a glass of champagne, and slowly walked toward them. The surrounding noise seemed to fade away. All I could see was that harmonious "family of three". Mom raised her glass and announced to the guests, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate our sweetheart's birthday today—" "Your sweetheart?" I asked. Chapter 3 I repeated Mom's words in an icy tone. The smiles on my parents' faces vanished instantly. Mom reacted faster. She stepped forward and reached for my hand, but I turned aside and avoided her. "Chris, why are you here?" she asked. Her voice trembled. "Come here, let me introduce you. This is—" I cut her off, fixing my gaze squarely on Benjamin. "This is Benjamin Smith, your sweetheart, right?" The smile faded from Benjamin's face as well. He looked at me, visibly at a loss. A flicker of sympathy passed through his eyes before he turned to my parents for help. "Who is this?" a guest asked. Dad's face darkened completely. He lowered his voice and snapped, "Christopher Blake! Stop causing trouble here and go home!" "Causing trouble?" I laughed coldly. "Dad, did you forget what day it is? Today is also your own son's birthday—mine." I spoke every word clearly. Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd. Everyone's eyes shifted back and forth between my parents and me, filled with curiosity and gossip. "So he's the real son… Then—" "Unbelievable. How can they ignore their own son's birthday and throw such a massive party for an outsider?" "What's Mr. Blake thinking? I honestly don't understand it." As the murmurs reached my parents, their expressions darkened. Mom's lips trembled. Dad's eyes went from panicked to furious. "That's enough!" Dad slammed his hand on the table. "Did you really have to ruin everything today?" "Ruin everything?" I raised my phone and clicked on a video. "Mom, who's really ruining everything? Who's the one who's preparing a surprise for me while putting a crown on someone else and giving him a watch?" On the screen, the footage clearly showed Mom gently placing the crown on Benjamin's head. "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince," she said. Those words echoed through the silent banquet hall from the phone's speaker. All the color drained from Mom's face. I switched to the group photo. "And this—how did the son of your so-called important client become your sweetheart?" I turned the screen toward the crowd so everyone could see the photo and the comments beneath it. The guests' faces contorted with surprise, judgment, and disbelief. Dad trembled with rage. He jabbed a finger at me wordlessly. "Christopher Blake, y-you—" "What?" I asked. I met his gaze. My eyes were welling up, but my voice stayed cold. "I just want to ask you this in person. Does having a new son feel so much better than having me? What did I do to deserve being humiliated and cast aside like this?" My voice grew louder, echoing the ten years of anguish I suffered. Benjamin's face turned pale. He tugged at Mom's sleeve and whispered, "Mrs. Blake, this—" Mom yanked her hand away from him. She looked at me with eyes full of regret. "Chris, it's not what you think. It's really not what you think!" "Then, what is it?" I demanded. "Come on, say it!" At that moment, the doors of the banquet hall were pushed open. Suzy rushed in. When she saw the tense standoff, her face went pale. She ran up to me and gripped my arm tightly. Her voice was shaking. "Christopher, listen to my explanation!" "Enough! I don't want to hear any more explanations from you!" I shouted. I struggled to break free from her. I had already achieved my purpose today. I wanted everyone to see the true faces of my so-called model parents, letting the carefully crafted image they had spent years building fall apart today. I raised my phone high, ready to project the group chat screenshots onto the big screen. "Mom, Dad, this show is over!" Just as I was about to press the projection button, Suzy snatched my phone and clutched it tightly to her chest. "Christopher! Please! Just wait five more minutes!" Her eyes were red, and her voice was filled with desperation.
"Slow down or we're going to have an accident!" I screamed as my brother swerved around the semi, just as a biker crested the hill, heading straight for us. Then everything went black. When I wake up, I'm staring into the stormy eyes of Eagle, VP of the Soldiers of Retribution MC. My reckless brother fled the crash, leaving me to face the consequences. Now Eagle's demanding answers, his grip bruising my arm. "Give me the driver's name," he growls, but I can't betray my own brother, even if he abandoned me. Trapped in their clubhouse, I expect violence. Instead, I get something worse: a peck that sears my soul. Eagle's touch ignites a fire I can't control, even as his threats send chills down my spine. The Soldiers don't take betrayal lightly, and my loyalty to Ron might cost me everything—including my heart. ——————— Leona "Slow down or we're going to have an accident." My brother, Ron, was all over the road and getting on my last nerve. He was a reckless driver by choice, so I knew that my words were wasted, but someday he was going to regret not listening to me. "Relax, Sis." He swerved around another vehicle, which were far and few on the country road, and I clutched the dashboard to keep from being thrown against the door. "I've never had an accident." I rolled my eyes. Never say never, I wanted to tell him. "Yet," I stressed with a tight mouth. We were coming up fast on a semi, a rare sight on this road, and I held my breath, waiting for Ron's next move. It was a two-lane country road and there was a hill ahead of us. "What the heck are you doing?" I cried out when Ron pulled into the oncoming lane. I glared at him as if he were crazy, which he was. "Ron!" I screamed, panicked. "It's clear," he laughed my concern away. "I checked. See?" It was clear, and he accelerated to go around the semi. Just as we were even with the cab of the truck we were trying to pass, a motorcycle crested the hill, coming from the opposite direction, and headed straight for us. I let out a scream when I realized that our only course was to back off and move back behind the semi again. "Ron?" I said in a warning tone when it didn't appear that he was slowing down. "I got time!" I stared at the road ahead of us, my eyes rounding in fear as the motorcyclist got closer. "Ron!" This wasn't happening! "We're going to hit him!" Panic overwhelmed me as our window of making a life-saving decision narrowed. My gaze focused on the biker. I couldn't see his face because of his visor, but I got the sense that he was braking. Because of the speed he was going his bike wobbled slightly and I gasped, thinking that I was about to see him lose control. His options weren't great. "Ron..." My heart moved up into my throat. I was certain that I was about to see a man die, and in a horrible way. "God!" Ron cursed, finally realizing that he wasn't going to make it. He slammed on the brakes, allowing the semi to continue past us, but it was too late for the biker. Everything happened in a blur after that. Ron swore again. I screamed and braced myself. The motorcyclist veered off the road, losing control on the gravel shoulder and skidding into the wet grass. I turned in my seat to watch where he ended up, crying out when his bike slammed into a small tree. "Ohmygod! Stop the car!" I demanded as Ron continued down the road, along with the semi, each of them acting as if nothing had happened. "Ron, stop the car!" I grabbed at the door handle, fully prepared to exit the moving vehicle. "He could be hurt!" He could be dead! In sheer desperation I grabbed the wheel. Cursing beneath his breath, Ron swerved over to the shoulder, braking hard enough to send me slamming into the dash. He glared at me, I glared back, his mouth opening as if to say something. "Don't say a word, dumbhip!" I swore as I opened the door and jumped out. I ran to the biker. His bike had hit the tree head on, and it was obvious that he'd been thrown. The bike was destroyed. I only prayed that the man had survived. I crouched down next to him, taking note of the twisted way in which he was resting on the damp ground. Oh my God! "Is he okay?" I could hear the nervousness in Ron's voice as he hovered close by. "It was a accident!" he whined. "He should have slowed down!" He was already making excuses for his bad behavior, one of his familiar traits. "You were the one in the wrong!" I snapped, shooting him a look of anger. I was so mad I was shaking. A low moan indicated that the man on the ground was alive. "Help me turn him over. And be careful!" When Ron didn't move, I glanced back at him. He was slowly backing up, a look of horror on his thin face. He shook his head. "No..." His eyes met mine. "Do you know who he is? He's with the Soldiers of Retribution!" The fear in his wild eyes held me momentarily frozen. I'd heard of the local MC, had seen them riding around town, but had never been close to any of them. I returned my gaze to the motionless man on the ground, taking in the words on the back of his leather jacket. "So?" I said after a while. "He's hurt. We have to help him." Ron continued to shake his head, his backward steps never faltering as they took him back to his car. "Come on. We have to leave him. They'll kill us..." I snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Get a grip, Ron. It was an accident, as you pointed out. We're not going to leave an injured man on the side of the road. It could be hours before anyone else comes along. Now help me turn him over so I can see how hurt he is." Ron hesitated and then reluctantly walked back to me. Together we managed to turn the huge man over until he was on his back. His low groan of pain sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted his cracked visor to get a look at his face. "Okay, we've turned him over, now let's go." "Are you serious right now? Jesus, Ron!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving him!" I said harshly, running my eyes over the man as I tried to assess his injuries. The blood on his forehead and the side of his face revealed that he had a head injury. "We have to go!" Ron reached down, grabbed my arm, and tried to haul me to my feet. "Before anyone comes!" "What is wrong with you?" I snarled, jerking my arm away and falling back to the ground. "Call an ambulance!" The man groaned again, louder this time. "After we leave here, we'll call for an ambulance. You don't want to get on the bad side of the Soldiers." "Then you go!" I yelled, furious and fed up with him. I wasn't familiar with the reputation of the Soldiers of Retribution, but I'd never seen or heard anything negative about them. In fact, just the opposite. But something had my brother spooked. "I'll call you when I get home." I couldn't keep the disgust out of my tone. I returned my attention to the man on the ground and caught my breath. His eyes were open and he was staring up at me, pain etched on his chiseled features. He wet his lips. "Can you move?" I asked him worriedly. "God, that hurt." He ignored me. "Call..." For the first time I noticed that he'd reached for something in his jacket and was struggling to get it out. Behind me I heard Ron take off. I shook my head with deep disappointment and realized that his running away was only going to cause him more problems. "Here, let me." I gently moved the man's hand aside and dug out his phone. "Who do you want me to call?" He started to say something, cleared his throat, and whispered, "Eagle..." "Eagle. Okay." I went down his contact list until I found Eagle and hit his number. "Shouldn't I call 911, too?" I caught the slight nod of his head that indicated yes. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I asked as Eagle's number rang. "Take my helmet off." I put his phone on my shoulder and did as he asked. "Where the heck are you, Brother? You're late." I cleared my throat. "Um, hello?" There was clear surprise in the silence I was met with. "Your brother has been in an accident." "Who the heck is this?" "Leona. We—" "What happened?" "It was a car accident." "God!" His breathing picked up, and I could tell that he was on the move. "Where are you, Leo?" Leo? I could hear the frown in his voice. "Down on the old farmer's road by the abandoned Kent farm." "Have you called 911?" "He, ah, asked me to call you first." "Call for an ambulance," he growled. "We're on our way." He hung up and I met the slightly dazed eyes of the man on the ground. His lips were pressed tightly together, an indication that he was in pain. I dialed 911, gave directions, and then hung up. "Are you in any pain?" I realized how stupid that sounded, but felt that conversation would keep him from passing out on me. He groaned. "God, lady, I hit a tree." His brown eyes moved over me as he tried to sit up. "Nice boyfriend you have, leaving you to fend for yourself." I wasn't about to inform him that Ron was my reckless, chicken-hearted eighteen-year-old brother. The less I said about him, the better. I watched him struggle for a minute before I bent to help him into a sitting position against the tree. "Do you feel like anything is broken?" He shook his head. "Just had the wind knocked out of me." "You might have a concussion," I offered when he brought his hand up to his head. He brought his hand down and looked at the blood. "Been worse." His gaze fell on his bike. He groaned. "Bike's history." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "My name is Leona." "Heard when you were talking to Eagle." He tried to stretch his leg out and winced in pain. "Thanks for staying. Name's Brew." Brew? Maybe it was short for something. I could hear motorcycles approaching in the distance. "That was fast," I murmured. "Clubhouse is just down the road," he explained. I knew the only thing down the road was Toby's salvage yard because we'd passed it earlier. Ron had told me that it had been sold a while back. "You must be the new owners." He groaned and laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "Yeah." I could tell that he didn't want to talk. I wished that there was something more I could do and was thankful when several motorcycles crested the hill in the distance, racing our way. The closer they got, the more nervous I got. The four men were big and kind of frightening-looking. They pulled up next to us, gravel and rocks crunching beneath the tires of their huge bikes. I stood up next to Brew's head as they rushed over to us. "The God, Brother, what happened?" The one asking the question crouched next to Brew. He glanced up at me. "You with him?" He was a formidable sight. His short hair matched the scruff on his tight jaw. Beautiful gray eyes peered up at me as he waited for an answer. There was a black tattoo around his thickly corded neck and down his left arm, his sleeveless shirt and cut revealing how muscular his arms were. I hadn't had the chance to get an idea of his height when he'd first arrived, but I could tell that he was built solid beneath his clothes. His faded jeans stretched tightly over his thighs. "No," I managed to get out from beneath his intense stare. "I, um, was in the car—" "Where the heck is it?" one of the other guys asked. They scanned the area before pinning their frowns back on me. "Gone," Brew muttered, drawing gray eyes back to him. For the first time I noticed that he was holding his left side. He'd grown paler. I was glad that I could hear the ambulance coming. "prick took off." Gray Eyes swung his gaze back up to me. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You want to tell me who he is?" Not really. I sensed it would be bad for Ron. Gray Eyes looked like he wanted to hurt someone. "Black Camaro," Brew uttered in a weakening voice. "We passed a Camaro," a tall blonde barked. The four men swapped looks, and Gray Eyes gave a jerk of his head. "Go." "Wait!" I called out as three of them turned at once to head for their bikes. "Are you going to hurt him? It was an accident!" Brew snorted. I knew that I was stretching the truth, but I didn't like the looks on their rugged faces. Gray Eyes stood up. "An accident, huh?" He was taller than I'd expected. "Why'd he run off then?" I swallowed, stepping back so I wouldn't have to crane my neck so much. "He was, um, afraid." "What kind of chicken mess leaves his girlfriend to handle his mess?" Yeah, chicken mess, that was my brother. I stared into the guy's beautiful eyes and took a calming breath. He crossed his arms in a move that could have been taken as threatening. "You gonna tell me who the heck he is?" I shook my head. "Not if you're going to hurt him." His brows shot up. "Hit and run." I silently agreed with him that it looked bad. "You don't think he deserves to pay for hitting someone and leaving them on the side of a road? For leaving his woman to face the consequences?" What? "Why should I face the consequences? I wasn't driving. And I stayed behind to help your friend." "Brother." He sucked in a deep breath and released it through his nose like an angry bull. I got the sense that he didn't like the fact that I wasn't cooperating. He leaned in close and muttered the words, "I want a name." I leaned back nervously, a little frightened by his imposing stature. I didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of man he was, or what he was capable of doing. He might be good to look at, but everything else about him was big and hard and kind of scary. "Don't scare her, Eagle." Eagle turned his head to look at Brew, then turned it back to pin those quick-silver eyes on me. He wanted a name? Playing stupid, I gave him a name. "Leona." Eagle God, she was cute, but I didn't have time to pursue my interest when Brew was groaning in pain. There was no telling how severe his injuries were. His bike was toast, the twisted, broken metal showing how hard he must have hit the tree against which he was resting. I was glad to see the ambulance come up over the hill. I narrowed my gaze on Leo, trying to intimidate her into telling me who the driver of the car that had hit Brew had been. I was good at intimidating people, especially civilians, but she was holding strong, standing there as if she could stare me down and win. Whoever the guy was, I knew he must be someone special to her. She was protecting him. Well, that was too bad. For her. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had a name. Whoever had hit Brew and then taken off was going to pay, one way or another. Soldiers of Retribution hadn't earned their name from ignoring the wrongs done to the club or its members, but I decided to let it go for now. When the ambulance pulled over and two EMTs jumped out, I stood out of the way. "What happened?" one of them asked. I glanced down at Brew. He'd grown pale and was close to losing consciousness. He didn't look capable of answering any questions, so I turned my attention to Leo, crossed my arms and raised a brow. "It was a car accident," she said. "I think he hit the tree headfirst." God, I thought. Brew was lucky to be alive. For the first time I noticed that his brain bucket was cracked and shattered. "Get the cervical collar," one EMT said to the other. "Did anyone call the sheriff?" "The chicken-mess driver drove off," I responded, getting a glare from Leo. Regret filled her eyes, but she kept them focused on mine without fear. "Hit and run? God!" A few minutes passed as they took Brew's vitals and fitted him with a neck brace. Then the one who'd retrieved the neck brace returned to the ambulance and came back with a stretcher. He lowered it to the ground, they carefully lifted Brew on top of it, and then raised it again. "We're taking him to Mid-Coast." I nodded. "He wakes, tell him his brothers will be there soon." I waited until he acknowledged that he'd heard me before turning back to the woman. "I want the name of the driver." She took a breath, which did wonders for her boobs when they stretched against the tee she was wearing. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her jaw just enough to let me know she was going to remain stubborn. "I'm sorry, I can't do that unless you promise not to hurt him." I frowned. "He someone special to you?" "Yes." "Boyfriend?" "No." That was all she offered. "God, woman." I was getting angry over our word play. I noticed that the change in my tone of voice caused her to take a little step back, and, using her fear to my advantage, I moved toward her menacingly. For every step I took closer to her she took one backwards. I almost grinned when her eyes began darting around the area as if she were looking for someone to help her. "You know who we are?" "I've heard of you." "Then you know we're the good guys." A burst of laughter escaped her. "It doesn't look like it right now." "You think this is funny?" She shook her head. "No!" Her backside came up against the tree Brew had slammed into, the breath rushing from between her parted lips. "I tend to laugh when I get nervous. And you're scaring me." "Oh, yeah?" I stopped when I was almost flush against her. A deep breath would have had me brushing against her boobs. "I can scare you a lot more if you don't give me what I want." "I don't appreciate you threatening me. I stayed with your brother. Made the calls for help. Is this how you repay an innocent bystander?" "You're hardly a bystander." I noticed the green of her eyes had little flakes of gold in them, and her lashes were thick and long, natural. The same color as her chestnut hair. I fought to keep from touching the silky waves, realizing that my thoughts of Brew were dulling and being replaced with inappropriate thoughts about Leo. "And I doubt anything about you is innocent." My gaze dropped to her lips, which were covered with a thin gloss. They were plump and tempting. God... My phone vibrated and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for the interruption. It was Lynx. "Did you catch up to him?" "No. He must have turned off somewhere." I kept my eyes on Leo's. "Head to Mid-Coast then. I'll meet you there." "Got it." Once he was off, I hit Wolfe's number. He started right in with, "Buck already called, Brother. You get the name of the driver from the witness?" My lips turned down, frustration evident in my tone, "No. She's not cooperating." "She still with you?" "Yup." "Bring her to the clubhouse. She goes nowhere until we get to the truth. For all we know this could be connected to those pricks the Maniacs and the trouble that went down in New York." I sucked in a deep breath because I sensed that this wasn't going to go over particularly well with the woman. Wolfe was right though--we needed to make sure that Brew hadn't been targeted because he used to ride with the Maniacs. Little Miss Leo may have been innocent, but whoever had been driving that car wasn't, and she was protecting them. "Will do." Wolfe hung up, but I pretended that I was still talking to him. "I'll lock her hip up in the basement." The clubhouse didn't have a basement, but Leo didn't know that. I'd said that part for her, rewarded when worry filled her eyes and she turned pale when she realized I was talking about her. I grinned, enjoying the color of alarm on her pretty face. "Looks like you're coming with me, darlin'." She shook her head and looked like she was going to bolt. "Look around you, Leo. You see anyone else you can hitch a ride with?" "God," I heard her low murmur. "My mama taught me to never go off with strangers. I'll walk." Knowing the area, I snorted. The clubhouse was down the road, about half a mile. After that it was a couple of miles to reach Georgetown. "It's settled then. You're coming with me." "So you can lock me up somewhere? I don't think so." She sank away from me as I stepped closer. I saw her wince as the bark of the tree dug into her back. "You ready to tell me who you're protecting?" She didn't respond but I could see the stubbornness in her eyes. "Then you have two choices. You can either sit behind me and hold on, or I'll put you in front of me and trust me, you won't like what you feel." She blinked. And blinked some more. My grin was suggestive, and once she figured out what I meant, she blushed and stuttered, "Y-You're a pig!" I shrugged. "Just being truthful. I'm a hip man and having one up against me gets me hard." I paused to emphasize. "Every time." I turned and headed for my bike with a grin on my face. "Better make up your mind, before I make it up for you." I climbed on and sat there waiting. I was surprised at the patience I was showing when I wasn't normally a patient man. Only I'd underestimated her stubbornness, and perseverance. When a car crested the hill, her eyes lit up, and I knew instinctively what she was going to do. She was going to cause trouble, that's what. She stepped away from the tree and headed toward the road excitedly. I jumped off my bike and intercepted her. I caught her up against me. "Let me go!" she demanded. The feel of her soft boobs rubbing against me reminded me that I'd been getting a oral job from Jezzie before we'd been interrupted by Leo's call. I still had a slight buzz from that. I inhaled Leo's intoxicating scent, something sweet and fresh, and exotic. The interest I'd pushed aside earlier came back with a vengeance. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and I gave in to a need I didn't know I had. I wanted to find out if her plump lips were as soft as they looked. I had to taste her. I slammed my mouth down on hers and pecked her hard. Leo struggled to get away for a second before it turned into something different and then she pecked me back. The small hands that had been pushing against my chest were now fisting my cut and holding me tightly. Her sweet mouth moved hungrily against mine, her moans of submission music to my ears. When our tongues meshed, all warm and wet, I lost it. The groan that escaped me sounded like one coming from a bear. An unexplainable need of arousal uncurled in my gut as my shaft rose to the occasion. Jesus, I should feel guilty for getting so turned on by Leo when Jillian was the one that I wanted. Jillian was the woman I'd been watching and waiting to make a move on, but the timing had never seemed right. Friends. We were still just friends. This woman meant nothing to me and yet having her in my arms was making me feel everything. The car's horn should have startled us apart. I reminded myself why I was pecking her in the first place and pulled away, anger close to the surface. Anger at myself for feeling guilty over how much I liked pecking Leo. I shouldn't like pecking another woman. God, I didn't even peck the sweet tarts. I slept them, though. I had needs and they were there for relief, and that was all. Until I made Jillian mine. God! I glared down at the little spitfire in my arms. She was flushed with heat, her eyes glossy. Her lips were swollen and wet. I'd done that to her, and I wondered what she saw on my face. God, I should never have pecked her, but the situation had called for drastic measures. To make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I curled my hand around the softness of her upper arm and pulled her with me. "Come on." She tried to pull away and I swung on her like a vicious dog. "I'm done!" I snarled in her face. She flinched but I kept going. "Now get your hip on my bike!" She stared at me for a minute and then wordlessly went to my bike. I waited for her to climb on before joining her. "You ever ridden before?" I swung my leg over. "No." "We don't have far to go. Just hold on and lean into any turns I take." I waited for her to wrap her arms around me, but it never happened. Her little hands tentatively clutched at my sides. I started my bike and reached down for her hands, wrapping her arms around me. I ignored her huff and crossed one hand over the other. "Don't let go." "Don't worry," came her snarky response. "I'm looking forward to being locked up in the basement." Grinning, I took off.
💔He took my vrrg!nity... then said, "I'm a werewolf. This isn't going to work." 🚗So I ran desperately. Pregnant. Alone. His texts? "Get an ab0rtion. I don't want a half-breed." 🌙Then I walked into a small-town diner. Where a cowboy with sky-blue eyes sat down across from me. Tanned skin. Tattoos. Hands that looked like they could break a man in half. He leaned in close. "What pack are you running from?" I froze. "I'm... human." He smiled. Slow. Dangerous. "Then why do you smell like one of us?" 🐺Dane Black. Alpha. And the way he looks at me? Like I'm already HIS. Without thinking, I slipped my hand onto my belly...
My stepfather became my nightmare.He takes all his anger at me.Beatings? Scolding? Those were commonplace. "From day one I've told you: No complaining. Why can't you just listen?" The belt whistled through the air. Then flesh. Over and over. My legs. My ribs. My shoulder."You disrespectful, bimbo!" Each one carving a new scream inside my body. "No, I beg you, don't!" I cry out again in despair. In that fleeting moment, a chilling realization washes over me: he really is resolutely intended on ending my life. Overwhelmed by fear, I instinctively curl into a fetal position, drawing my legs close to my body. ... "The DNA test results showed a match with your father."The doctor said. Is that true? I still couldn't believe it. I wasn't be abused. I wasn't going to be abused anymore. A burst of motorcycle engine noise rang out.Then--- "Where's my daughter?!" ———————— Olivia's POV- My eyes fluttered open slowly. I was still in a huge amount of pain this morning. A groan slipped from my lips, as my senses came too from my slumber. The sound of birds and the roar of bikes snapped me out of the daze I was in from just waking up. My eyes snapped open, and I looked around to make sure no one had seen me sleeping in my truck. That would have been embarrassing and probably the talk of the school. God, school. I grabbed my phone in a panic, I had to hurry to turn it back on. I checked the time even as it loaded up. Thankfully, I still had time before I needed to get to school. I turned to reach into the back to grab my duffle bag off the back seats, which was a bad idea. Pain radiated up my left side, making me cry out sharply. I relaxed carefully back into my driver's seat. Harry really did a number on me last night, before I ran from the house. Harry Jones is my step-dad. He has raised me since birth, so I currently have his last name, but he never earned the right to ever be called my dad. Why? Because since I was eight years old, he has used me as a punching bag. Last night was the worst I had seen Harry. He lost a big business deal, and he lashed out, taking it out on me. I know at least one of my ribs is broken, and I know my face and neck are littered with bruising. I arrived at my locker, with Benny and Megan. I opened my locker, and went to lift my bag into the locker. But a sharp shooting pain spread up my left side. I gritted my teeth and tried to push through the pain. It became too much, and I had to drop my bag. Benny caught it and whispered, "It is okay, I will put it in there for you." It was nice that he did that, and that he didn'at say anything further. I can see that he is trying to help without letting anyone hear or see why I need help. Megan was digging around in her bag and handed me some painkillers. "Take them, and try to eat something." I am very glad that I have them both here, watching over me. After the worst beating Harry ever gave me, I can say that I am very glad that I have them standing beside me. Rather than them being angry at me hiding this for so long, they have been nothing but supportive so far. At least I have them. We headed straight for the table that we usually sit on. Megan and Benny sat next to each other, and I sat next to Megan. There was an empty seat next to me, and while I was turned chatting to Megan and Benny, someone came and sat next to me. I didn't need to look at who it was, I could smell his cologne mixed with leather and ci-garette smoke. The wide-eyed expressions from Megan and Benny gave it away as well. I slowly turned to look at who had sat next to me, and there he was pulling his notebook out of his backpack and placing it on the table. Carnage. Carnage was actually going to join us. He has never done that before, ever. He always sat with Mike. Mike was shooting confused, curious and angry looks this way. It was like he couldn't understand what was going on. Me, I just kept staring at Carnage, confused. He has never sat next to me before, so why now? "If you keep staring at me like that, you are going to make everyone think that you like me, which I wouldn't mind, because I like you," Carnage said, slowly turning to look at me. My lips parted in shock, as I stared into the cobalt blue eyes in front of me. God, they were so captivating. Did I hear him right, or was I imagining things? He wouldn't like someone like me, he couldn't... ... Daniel's POV- I smiled watching Olivia's cheeks turn slightly pink color, I think that she would have been bright red if she wasn't wearing all that make-up. I wanted to see just how innocent she was, especially after what she had said. After what had happened in the corridor, seeing her stand up for herself finally, made me all sorts of messed up. She crushed Sarah with her intellect. Blocked a strike from Dana, and shoved her away. The remark she made about her step-father was also interesting. The fact that she stated that Sarah probably wouldn't last five minutes against her stepfather, made me wonder whether he was violent. When Olivia lifted her sweater to show her abdomen, just to show how slender she was. I wanted to rip her towards me and smooch her hard, show she was taken, especially after how some of the other guys in the corridor looked at her. It made me angry, possessive. When I saw the way nt I sat next to Olivia, she started staring. I knew she was trying to figure out why I sat next to her. I never had before, so I told her that I liked her. "Say something, or I will shout that I like you and no one is to touch you," I smirked. She remained frozen. I opened my mouth to shout it, but her hand shot up clamping over my mouth, I faintly heard the sound of a pen dropping to the floor. I couldn't hide my amusement that she had done that. Her eyes went wide when she saw what she had done, and pulled her hand away. She tried to glare at me and said, "You are only saying that because you want my cherry." Well, I can't deny that she is partially right. I want to be all her firsts and her last, her only. I watched her look down, as the pen she had dropped. She bent to pick it up, and that was when I saw the marks on her neck, mostly concealed by her turtle-neck sweater. They looked like fingerprint bruises from being strangled. It made me angry to see her hurt, but this was not the time nor the place for me to bring it up. When she had sat back up straight and met my gaze, I said, "You are partially right. But it is true that I like you. So, I want to be all your firsts, your last, your only." I watched at her cheeks flush pink a little. "Can I have your number?" She nodded, and pulled out her phone. She showed me her number, and while I was typing it into my phone, she got a message notification from Harry. I am pretty certain that the message was cussing her out and demanding she come home tonight, or he would hunt her down. "I have got it. Let's put your name down as Olivia, in brackets my Queen. By the way, who is Harry? I just saw a notification with his name flash up on the screen is all," I said. "Oh," she gasped, turning her phone screen to look at her, where she then drained of color. She had literally been blushing mere seconds ago, when I had said that I had typed in brackets my Queen. It is what I want her to be, not that she would believe it right now. She cleared her throat, and said, "He is my stepfather, and a jerk." I placed my hand on the center of her back, as I asked, "Are you okay? You have become really pale?" The moment I rested my hand on her back, I felt it, even through the baggy sweater and top she was wearing underneath. Bandages, wrapped around her ribs. I was familiar with that feeling all too well when I had to support fellow brothers through the clubhouse to the clinic, due to the injuries they sustained during club business or during a fight. She moved away from my touch, slowly, like she was torn between staying or moving as far away as she could. I noticed her jaw clenched as she gritted her teeth, probably to fight through whatever pain she was in. She put her phone away, and returned to focusing on what we had to do for the assignment. We arranged a time to meet up and complete the assignment together. Just as quickly as it started, class came to an end. Olivia was very quick to tell her friends that she was going to the bathroom and headed off. I left the class to follow Olivia, but I ran into Katie. She was grinning from ear to ear. The mischievous grin that she always had when she did something, none of us would ever think she would be able to do. "What did you do?" I asked, as she pulled me over to the other side of the corridor away from too many ears. "So, Olivia is going to her locker right now, and then I am going into the bathroom in a second, but you should know that I may or may not have broken into her locker, and stolen a few things," she replied. My eyes widened as she spoke. I was shocked that she could do it, though it shouldn't have surprised me. "What did you take?" I hissed. "I pulled a large amount of hair from her hairbrush, found a bloody rag, like she had, had a nose bleed or something. I have them in a ziplock bag in my bag. Anything I should know about," Katie said. "I think she has bandages around her ribs, that is what it felt like to me. She also has finger-shaped bruising on her neck. That is probably why she is wearing that turtle-neck sweater," I told her, quietly. Katie nodded, "I will go hide in the bathroom, before she gets in there." "Let me know what you see," I said. Katie nodded, "I will." As she ran off, Mike walked over to me with Phoenix and Devil. Mike growled lowly, "What is going on with you?" "The short answer is Katie helped me figure something out about Olivia, and we are investigating it," I replied. "Why are you so hooked on Olivia?" Mike asked. I sighed, "Even Devil figured it out and how come you can't?" "Figure what out?" "It's because he has never experienced feelings like what I have for Phoenix or you have for Olivia," Devil interjected. Realization dawned on his face, as he whispered, "You like Olivia?" I nodded, whispering, "And, I think she is being abused by her stepfather. There is also a possibility she might be related to a ranked brother." The moment I mentioned abuse, their postures stiffened, as with all us Knights, our instincts to protect kicked in. But when I mentioned that she might be related to a ranked brother, their heads whipped towards me in shock. "Who?" they all asked. "Gold," I whispered.
🏙️ After years in foster care, Nova finally escapes to New York with one dream: a life she can call her own. By pure chance, she ends up in a whirlwind marriage with Dante—a quiet logistics driver who seems completely ordinary. 💍 Together, they build a small, peaceful life. A tiny apartment. Late-night takeout. Big dreams. ❤️ But Nova has fought too hard to lose everything again. 💼 She works day and night to protect the home they built. 🚨 And when danger threatens the life she loves, she’ll do anything to keep it. The only problem? Dante may not be the ordinary man she thinks he is… 👀 👉 Watch how one accidental marriage changes everything on AnyReel.
🏙️ After years in foster care, Nova finally escapes to New York with one dream: a life she can call her own. By pure chance, she ends up in a whirlwind marriage with Dante—a quiet logistics driver who seems completely ordinary. 💍 Together, they build a small, peaceful life. A tiny apartment. Late-night takeout. Big dreams. ❤️ But Nova has fought too hard to lose everything again. 💼 She works day and night to protect the home they built. 🚨 And when danger threatens the life she loves, she’ll do anything to keep it. The only problem? Dante may not be the ordinary man she thinks he is… 👀 👉 Watch how one accidental marriage changes everything on AnyReel.
🏙️ After years in foster care, Nova finally escapes to New York with one dream: a life she can call her own. By pure chance, she ends up in a whirlwind marriage with Dante—a quiet logistics driver who seems completely ordinary. 💍 Together, they build a small, peaceful life. A tiny apartment. Late-night takeout. Big dreams. ❤️ But Nova has fought too hard to lose everything again. 💼 She works day and night to protect the home they built. 🚨 And when danger threatens the life she loves, she’ll do anything to keep it. The only problem? Dante may not be the ordinary man she thinks he is… 👀 👉 Watch how one accidental marriage changes everything on AnyReel.
I saw my husband, the king of the Russian Mafia, na.ked. Tangled up with that bimbo in our marital bed. The door was already cracked open. And then I saw him. Ivan. My husband. The man who had whispered forever into my skin. Na.ked. Tangled with her. Danica. His best friend's sister. The woman who had been circling him like a vulture since the day I arrived in Russia. They wrapped up in each other like I meant nothing. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't scream. I just stood there, frozen, while my entire world collapsed. "You're just a passing pu.ssy to fu.ck until he takes a proper Russian bride." "Leave now, or we'll make sure neither you nor your baby survive." His best friend Dimitri's words echoed in my head. Dimitri and his sister Danica took every opportunity to tell me that I was never worthy. Too fat. Too stupid. Not Russian. Not good enough. I was carrying his child. They even threatened to kill us both. I stood outside that bedroom door, I stopped shaking. I didn't rage. I didn't wake them. I simply turned around and walked away. Because the moment I saw him tangled with that bimbo in our bed, I knew he would never protect me or my daughter. ____________ Meadow POV "Ava, I swear if you don't get your little behind down here, I'm telling your aunt that you are the reason we are late to pick her up from the airport. I'm also telling her you can't have the gourmet chocolates I'm sure she has hiding in her bag for you." I love my daughter, but sometimes she acts so much like her father. She thinks the rest of the world is waits for her. She is four going on fourteen. It must be innate since they share blood, considering she has never met the man. My heart clenches in my chest as an image of the man that I thought was my forever pops into my head unbidden. God, he was the most handsome man I've ever seen in and out of clothes. I shake thoughts of him away. It's been five years and the love and anger I feel toward him is as strong today as the day I ran. I've wished many times to stop loving him, but it's like trying not to breathe. He broke us and I refuse to give him any more time in my head. Ava is the best part of him, so I can never regret the two years I spent as his wife. My four-year-old daughter comes bounding down the stairs. I fight the laugh that wants to break free from my throat when I see what she is wearing and her wild hair. She has his striking blonde hair but my curls. "Ava, as much as I love that you have your own style, nothing that you have on matches. Besides that, your hair looks like you stuck your finger in a light socket." "I told you that you could get dressed, but you at least have to look like you don't live with the wolves." She giggles as I lead her back upstairs. Ten minutes later, her curls are tamed, and she is wearing her favorite pink T-shirt with jean overalls. She hates dresses and has since she could walk. I won't make her wear something just because I think she will look cute in it. My daughter is the definition of strong-willed, and I wouldn't want her any other way. We make our way out to my second-hand pick-up truck that is parked in our dirt driveway. Ivana tried to insist during her last visit that I needed a new truck, but I refuse to take her money. She has done enough for me. I buckle Ava in before sliding into the driver's seat. Besides, we live a comfortable life and I refuse to take any money that is associated with Ivan. He is the reason I almost lost our daughter and my own life. He cared more about his friendship with Dimitri, his second and being Pakhan, then he did about me. I mean I knew his role as the leader of the Bravta would always be more important than me, but to choose his best friend and his best friend's sister stung more than I care to admit. I still don't understand why he didn't just choose her instead of making me feel like he was in love with me. She made my entire time in Ivan's house he.ll, but I couldn't bring myself to leave him. Not until the night before I ran. Memories of seeing them together in our marital bed wrapped up in each other still bring tears to my eyes and a feeling of rage to my heart. I hate him for making me love him and then stomping all over my heart. "Mommy, are you sad," Ava asks. Even at her age she is so observant. I look at her in the rearview mirror and force a smile onto my face. "How could I be sad baby? I have the sweetest, smartest, strongest daughter, and we are about to see my best friend. I'm happy. How about you?" "I'm happy and excited to see my auntie. She said we could go shopping for new stuffy toys when I talked to her last night," she says. I groan because Ivana spoils her. "You already have too many stuffy toys, Ava. Soon you are going to run out of room on your bed for you to sleep." The look of disgust on her face at what I just said makes my heart happy and sad at the same time. She looks so much like Ivan when she makes that face. I focus my attention back on the road as we approach the airport. A strange feeling washes over me as we pull into the guest parking lot. I shake the feeling away as I shut the car off. "Are you ready baby?" She nods her head so hard I'm surprised she doesn't hurt her neck. I round the car and help her out of the booster seat. She takes my hand, and we make our way into the small airport. When I ran from Russia, I picked a small town in Nebraska because I knew Ivan would never look for me here. The first time I met him was when I was waiting tables in an Italian restaurant in little Italy. I'm sure if he bothered to look for me, it would be in New York or some other big city. I always said how much I loved the noise and bustle. It's where I grew up. Not that I had any ties to the place since my parents never stuck around and my grandmother passed years ago. I had no idea at the time, but Ivan was meeting with the head of the Italian Mafia to set up operations in New York. I'm not sure how he became friends with Leonardo Rizzo, but they got along like a house on fire that night. They stayed drinking and talking long after the restaurant closed. I was cleaning up the kitchen when the restaurant went quiet. I assumed everyone but my manager had left. It wasn't until he approached me with his s*xy Russian accent that I realized I wasn't alone. He turned on the charm that night. I never had a chance. "Mommy, there is auntie," Ava says, bringing me out of my memories. I smile when I see my best friend strutting in our direction. I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face. We are polar opposites. She is built like a model. Legs for days and wearing stilettos like it's her job. Her hair is a beautiful blonde bob and her makeup is perfect. She looks like she is ready for the runway. She is perfect despite eating just like her brothers. I wanted to hate her for that alone when I first met her, since I'm barely 5'6" and curvy, but she became my best friend very quickly. I'm a healthy size fourteen. Having Ava has made my butt and boobs even bigger. I still have a small soft belly, but I love it. It reminds me of the time I got to carry my baby girl close to my heart. "Meadow, oh my god, I've missed you so much. You look amazing. I swear I would kill for those curves," she says. I roll my eyes. She pulls me into her arms and I feel a pinch on my side. My eyes fly open and Ivana is glaring at me when she pulls back. "Why the he.ll are you pinching me?" "I'm pinching you because you have no clue how hot you really are. You are a gorgeous woman. Why do you think my brother fell so hard and so fast? You are wearing jeans and an unassuming T-shirt and at least five guys have checked out your a** and b**bs since I spotted you," she whispers. "Ivana, it's you that they are checking out. You are the one that looks like you have just stepped out of a magazine." "My brother would disagree," she says. "I really don't want to talk about your brother. Let's grab your luggage and get you back to the farmhouse." I can see she wants to say more, but thankfully she doesn't. We head to the terminal and grab her two bags. "How long will you be staying this time," I ask as we make our way through the airport. "Unfortunately, only about a week. I have to be back for my brother's wedding," she says. I swear my heart stops beating and my steps falter. I'm on the verge of not being able to breathe when she grabs my arms. "Nikoli, is the one getting married to Jasmine. Breathe Meadow, he will never marry anyone that isn't you. He hasn't touched another woman since you left," she says. "Its fine. I don't know why I reacted like that. We haven't been together in five years. I just figured he married that b**ch Danica after I left. I mean he did cheat on me with her. So you are wrong about him touching another woman. He did it while we were still married." "I told you before, he denied sleeping with her. I'm not sure exactly what happened that day when we walked in on them in bed, but he insists he had been dr.ugged, Meadow. Maybe," she starts to say, but I cut her off. "No, Ivana. Even if she did something that day, they were too close. The month before I left, he was spending all his time with Dimtri and Danica. Every time I'd bring it up he would blow me off and tell me I was imagining things." "Do you know how many times Dimtri told me that Ivan and Danica were meant to be together? That I was simply a passing p**sy to f**k until he took a proper Russian bride. That I wasn't good enough for the Pakhan of the Petrov family. I'm just shocked they haven't married." "First, you are a terrible li*r. You may be angry at him for hurting you, but you still love him. Second, he has never stopped looking for you, Meadow. I told you many times he still has men searching for his lost bride. He loves you. If he ever finds out I helped you escape that day, there will be repercussions," she says. "Ivana," I start to say. "I'm not saying it to scare you, Meadow. I am not afraid of his wrath, but I know without a doubt if he finds out I've known where you've been for the last five years I'll be dead, blood or not. I would do it again without a second thought, Meadow, to protect you and her from that ba**ard and his sister. My brother let familiarity cloud his judgment. Third, he hates her now. I'm not sure if he believes that she didn't dr.ug herself, since she insists she didn't, but he blames her for losing you. He even holds Dimitri at arms length. He spends more time in his office than anywhere else. He has become even more ruthless," she says. "Whatever he is no longer concerns me. He never believed me where Dimtri and Danica were concerned. He would say he loved me and tell me that I was overacting in the same breath. The day Dimtri and Danica cornered me to tell me she was pregnant with the true heir to the Petrov family and threatened to kill me if I didn't leave, I took them at their word. Especially after seeing them in bed with my own eyes." "We have been over for five years, Ivana. I hope he finds happiness. I don't hate him anymore. My reaction was out of line. I have no right to be upset if he moves on. I'm the one that left him even if it was justified." She nods before pulling me into a hug. God, despite what I just said, it kills me to think about him being married to anyone but me. Ivan POV "Who will you be taking to Nikoli's wedding, Ivan? You know your mother will expect you to have a beautiful woman on your arm as the leader of this family," Dimtri says. I glare at him. He has the good sense to drop his gaze to the floor. "I don't care what my mother wants. She has no say in what I do. She should concern herself with her own marriage. There is only one woman that will ever be on my arm, my wife." "Ivan, Meadow is gone. She has been gone for five years. She isn't coming back. She didn't love you, Ivan. She left without a word over a misunderstanding. Had she simply stayed she would have realized that both you and Danica were dr.ugged. She didn't trust you enough to stay. That is not love," he says. Anger bubbles up inside me as I stare at the man I had considered as close as a brother until Meadow came into my life. "It's time to move on. The three of us have been friends for many years. My sister would gladly agree to an arranged marriage. She has loved you since we were children, Ivan. She will give you strong children and a son that will one day sit in your chair as Pakhan. You could grow love here if you simply let go of the woman that didn't love you enough to stay," he says. "Danica knows our business and the demands that you have as Pakhan. Meadow was never made for this life. She wasn't worthy of standing by," he starts to say. My gun is out of its holster and pointed at his head before he can finish his sentence. "Don't you ever speak about my wife again. I wouldn't touch your sister with a dying man's d**k, let alone mine. She is lucky she had dr.ugs in her system the day I woke up next to her in bed na.ked, or she would be f**king dead already. You and your parents are the only reason she still breathes. Don't make me rethink my decision. Meadow is my wife and will be till the day I take my last breath." "If you ever suggest such a thing again, I will forget our decades of friendship, Dimtri. I'll put the f**king bullet in your head and make my brother Alexi my second. Do we understand each other, Dimtri?" "Yes, Pakhan. I'm sorry. I will remember my place. I will not speak about your wife again," he says. "Speaking of my beautiful wife, have we found any more leads?" "No, Pakhan, it's like she disappeared into thin air. We still have no idea how she got out of the mansion undetected. The camera feeds were tampered with so she can't have acted alone. She must have had help, but we have found no traitors among the men that were serving as her guards that day," he says. "Where is Ivana? I still can't believe that Meadow hasn't contacted her in all this time. They were so close when we all lived in the mansion together. They were like sisters." "Maybe they had a falling out. She was very angry the night before Meadow left. Meadow may have done something to upset Ivana. She has been very tight-lipped about whatever happened. She knows none of us will torture her for information without solid proof that she knows why Meadow left. You know your father will not be happy if you hurt his princess," he says. "I wouldn't hurt my sister no matter how strained our relationship has become. Bring her to my office. I need to speak to her about Nikoli bride's dress. I want to make sure it is ready. It is my gift to Jasmine as the head of our family." "She has left for the week, Pakhan. I thought you knew. She said she had last-minute things to attend to before the ceremony," he says. Something in my gut tells me it is more than that. "Where did she go?" "Do you really believe your sister told me of her plans, Ivan? She hates me," he says. He isn't wrong. Even growing up she thought he was an a**hole. She had never been friendly with him, but it seemed to have gotten worse after Meadow left. Could he have had a part in her running? No, he wouldn't. He is practically a brother to me even if he wishes I would take his wretched sister as a bride. I'd rather cut my own d**k off. He knows how much I love Meadow. My other brothers are ten years younger than me, so I knew that Dimtri would be my second when my father passed me his title. Dimtri has always been loyal, and he is almost as ruthless as me. "Find out where the he.ll she went and what solider went with her." "Yes, Pakhan," he says before leaving my office. Once the door closes behind him, I pick the picture up that still sits on my desk. My beautiful Meadow on the day I made her mine. God I miss her. I miss holding her and ki.ssing her. I miss just lying in bed and listening to her soft snores. I wish I knew why she ran. The only thing that makes sense is she saw the scene in our room and drew conclusions that weren't true, but why wouldn't she confront me? Scream and shout at me for being a cheating ba**ard. Throw things but give me a chance to explain. I haven't thought about another woman since the moment she stepped into the dining room of that mom-and-pop Italian restaurant in little Italy. I run my hand down my face as I take the seat behind the desk that is now mine. I won't ever give up Meadow. You are mine. Thirty minutes later, Dimtri is stepping back into my office. I can tell whatever he is about to tell me is going to piss me off. "Pakhan, Ivana didn't take a solider with her on her trip. She also didn't take the family jet. She flew on a commercial flight," he says. "What the f**k? Why the he.ll would she put herself at risk? She knows better than to traipse around unguarded." I pull my phone from my pocket and dial my sister. Two rings later, she rejects the call. I immediately dial her again. This time she has the good sense to pick up the call. "Brother, what can I help you with," she asks, trying to sound non-chalant. "Where the f**k are you?" "Well, he.llo to you too, Ivan," she says. "Ivana, I'm losing my patience. Answer my f**king question." "Not that I owe you an answer, since you aren't my papa, but I'm putting some final touches on Jasmine's dress. I needed some materials that I couldn't find in Russia. Do not worry brother, I'll be home in time to do her last fitting. She will be the most beautiful Russian bride," she says. "Mommy, I want a snack," says a tiny voice. "Who the he.ll was that? Where are you Ivana? Don't make me ask you again?" "Brother, I'm losing you. The reception here is very bad. I'll call you back when I get close to a cell tower," she says, and the call disconnects. I dial another number because she is definitely keeping something from me. "Pakhan," my best hacker says. "Gigor, I need you to track Ivana's phone. I want her location within the hour. I also want to know how many times she has made the trip to wherever the he.ll she is right now." I don't wait for an answer before disconnecting the call. I dismiss Dimitri and move to look out my wall of windows. Memories of my beautiful wife playing in the snow when we first arrived in Russia flood my mind. God, I miss you malyshka (baby girl). I wish you were in front of me right now so I could spank your a** red for leaving me before taking you to bed and reminding who you belong to. My phone rings, interrupting my inner monologue. "Pakhan, Ivana is in a small town in Nebraska called Minden. She has visited there many times over the last five years. She usually takes commercial flights and stays for around two weeks, although this time she is only planning to stay a week," he says. When he says five years, my heart starts to race. Could it be a coincidence that she has been going to Nebraska for the same amount of time my wife has been missing? "Before you ask Pakhan, there is no record of her staying in any hotel, bed and breakfast, or motel in the town or the surrounding towns," he says. "Thank you, Gigor," I say and cut the call. She wouldn't help her hide from me. She knows how devastated I've been. She wouldn't watch me suffer and say nothing. I slam my eyes shut because, as much as I want to believe all those things, my gut is telling me my bride is hiding in an unassuming town in f**king Nebraska. What's worse is if I'm right, my sister knew. I pull my phone from my pocket. I dial my pilot first and my brother second. Alexi picks up on the first ring. Despite being only twenty, he has proved he is more than capable of helping me rule our family. Something in my gut tells me that I need him by my side for this trip. Not only for the possibility of finding my bride, but to keep me from killing our sister. "Alexi, I need you to meet me at the tarmac in one hour. Bring enough clothes for a week." "I'll be there," he says, without a question about where we are going or why. When I hang up my stomach is in knots. A flutter of excitement at the possibility of seeing Meadow has my feet carrying me out of my office and down the long hallway that leads toward my wing of the mansion. I push open the door to our room and step inside. Once I'm in the walk-in closet, I run my hands down Meadow's clothes. I pull her favorite T-shirt from the hanger and bring it to my nose. The scent of her is long gone, but I try to imagine her peach scent. I know I am not a man that deserves God's favor after all the evil deeds I've done in my life, but I pray anyway. Pray that I finally have my wife back in my arms where she belongs. This time I will burn down the world if she ever tries to leave me again.
"Slow down or we're going to have an accident!" I screamed as my brother swerved around the semi, just as a biker crested the hill, heading straight for us. Then everything went black. When I wake up, I'm staring into the stormy eyes of Eagle, VP of the Soldiers of Retribution MC. My reckless brother fled the crash, leaving me to face the consequences. Now Eagle's demanding answers, his grip bruising my arm. "Give me the driver's name," he growls, but I can't betray my own brother, even if he abandoned me. Trapped in their clubhouse, I expect violence. Instead, I get something worse: a peck that sears my soul. Eagle's touch ignites a fire I can't control, even as his threats send chills down my spine. The Soldiers don't take betrayal lightly, and my loyalty to Ron might cost me everything—including my heart. ——————— Leona "Slow down or we're going to have an accident." My brother, Ron, was all over the road and getting on my last nerve. He was a reckless driver by choice, so I knew that my words were wasted, but someday he was going to regret not listening to me. "Relax, Sis." He swerved around another vehicle, which were far and few on the country road, and I clutched the dashboard to keep from being thrown against the door. "I've never had an accident." I rolled my eyes. Never say never, I wanted to tell him. "Yet," I stressed with a tight mouth. We were coming up fast on a semi, a rare sight on this road, and I held my breath, waiting for Ron's next move. It was a two-lane country road and there was a hill ahead of us. "What the heck are you doing?" I cried out when Ron pulled into the oncoming lane. I glared at him as if he were crazy, which he was. "Ron!" I screamed, panicked. "It's clear," he laughed my concern away. "I checked. See?" It was clear, and he accelerated to go around the semi. Just as we were even with the cab of the truck we were trying to pass, a motorcycle crested the hill, coming from the opposite direction, and headed straight for us. I let out a scream when I realized that our only course was to back off and move back behind the semi again. "Ron?" I said in a warning tone when it didn't appear that he was slowing down. "I got time!" I stared at the road ahead of us, my eyes rounding in fear as the motorcyclist got closer. "Ron!" This wasn't happening! "We're going to hit him!" Panic overwhelmed me as our window of making a life-saving decision narrowed. My gaze focused on the biker. I couldn't see his face because of his visor, but I got the sense that he was braking. Because of the speed he was going his bike wobbled slightly and I gasped, thinking that I was about to see him lose control. His options weren't great. "Ron..." My heart moved up into my throat. I was certain that I was about to see a man die, and in a horrible way. "God!" Ron cursed, finally realizing that he wasn't going to make it. He slammed on the brakes, allowing the semi to continue past us, but it was too late for the biker. Everything happened in a blur after that. Ron swore again. I screamed and braced myself. The motorcyclist veered off the road, losing control on the gravel shoulder and skidding into the wet grass. I turned in my seat to watch where he ended up, crying out when his bike slammed into a small tree. "Ohmygod! Stop the car!" I demanded as Ron continued down the road, along with the semi, each of them acting as if nothing had happened. "Ron, stop the car!" I grabbed at the door handle, fully prepared to exit the moving vehicle. "He could be hurt!" He could be dead! In sheer desperation I grabbed the wheel. Cursing beneath his breath, Ron swerved over to the shoulder, braking hard enough to send me slamming into the dash. He glared at me, I glared back, his mouth opening as if to say something. "Don't say a word, dumbhip!" I swore as I opened the door and jumped out. I ran to the biker. His bike had hit the tree head on, and it was obvious that he'd been thrown. The bike was destroyed. I only prayed that the man had survived. I crouched down next to him, taking note of the twisted way in which he was resting on the damp ground. Oh my God! "Is he okay?" I could hear the nervousness in Ron's voice as he hovered close by. "It was a accident!" he whined. "He should have slowed down!" He was already making excuses for his bad behavior, one of his familiar traits. "You were the one in the wrong!" I snapped, shooting him a look of anger. I was so mad I was shaking. A low moan indicated that the man on the ground was alive. "Help me turn him over. And be careful!" When Ron didn't move, I glanced back at him. He was slowly backing up, a look of horror on his thin face. He shook his head. "No..." His eyes met mine. "Do you know who he is? He's with the Soldiers of Retribution!" The fear in his wild eyes held me momentarily frozen. I'd heard of the local MC, had seen them riding around town, but had never been close to any of them. I returned my gaze to the motionless man on the ground, taking in the words on the back of his leather jacket. "So?" I said after a while. "He's hurt. We have to help him." Ron continued to shake his head, his backward steps never faltering as they took him back to his car. "Come on. We have to leave him. They'll kill us..." I snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Get a grip, Ron. It was an accident, as you pointed out. We're not going to leave an injured man on the side of the road. It could be hours before anyone else comes along. Now help me turn him over so I can see how hurt he is." Ron hesitated and then reluctantly walked back to me. Together we managed to turn the huge man over until he was on his back. His low groan of pain sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted his cracked visor to get a look at his face. "Okay, we've turned him over, now let's go." "Are you serious right now? Jesus, Ron!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving him!" I said harshly, running my eyes over the man as I tried to assess his injuries. The blood on his forehead and the side of his face revealed that he had a head injury. "We have to go!" Ron reached down, grabbed my arm, and tried to haul me to my feet. "Before anyone comes!" "What is wrong with you?" I snarled, jerking my arm away and falling back to the ground. "Call an ambulance!" The man groaned again, louder this time. "After we leave here, we'll call for an ambulance. You don't want to get on the bad side of the Soldiers." "Then you go!" I yelled, furious and fed up with him. I wasn't familiar with the reputation of the Soldiers of Retribution, but I'd never seen or heard anything negative about them. In fact, just the opposite. But something had my brother spooked. "I'll call you when I get home." I couldn't keep the disgust out of my tone. I returned my attention to the man on the ground and caught my breath. His eyes were open and he was staring up at me, pain etched on his chiseled features. He wet his lips. "Can you move?" I asked him worriedly. "God, that hurt." He ignored me. "Call..." For the first time I noticed that he'd reached for something in his jacket and was struggling to get it out. Behind me I heard Ron take off. I shook my head with deep disappointment and realized that his running away was only going to cause him more problems. "Here, let me." I gently moved the man's hand aside and dug out his phone. "Who do you want me to call?" He started to say something, cleared his throat, and whispered, "Eagle..." "Eagle. Okay." I went down his contact list until I found Eagle and hit his number. "Shouldn't I call 911, too?" I caught the slight nod of his head that indicated yes. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I asked as Eagle's number rang. "Take my helmet off." I put his phone on my shoulder and did as he asked. "Where the heck are you, Brother? You're late." I cleared my throat. "Um, hello?" There was clear surprise in the silence I was met with. "Your brother has been in an accident." "Who the heck is this?" "Leona. We—" "What happened?" "It was a car accident." "God!" His breathing picked up, and I could tell that he was on the move. "Where are you, Leo?" Leo? I could hear the frown in his voice. "Down on the old farmer's road by the abandoned Kent farm." "Have you called 911?" "He, ah, asked me to call you first." "Call for an ambulance," he growled. "We're on our way." He hung up and I met the slightly dazed eyes of the man on the ground. His lips were pressed tightly together, an indication that he was in pain. I dialed 911, gave directions, and then hung up. "Are you in any pain?" I realized how stupid that sounded, but felt that conversation would keep him from passing out on me. He groaned. "God, lady, I hit a tree." His brown eyes moved over me as he tried to sit up. "Nice boyfriend you have, leaving you to fend for yourself." I wasn't about to inform him that Ron was my reckless, chicken-hearted eighteen-year-old brother. The less I said about him, the better. I watched him struggle for a minute before I bent to help him into a sitting position against the tree. "Do you feel like anything is broken?" He shook his head. "Just had the wind knocked out of me." "You might have a concussion," I offered when he brought his hand up to his head. He brought his hand down and looked at the blood. "Been worse." His gaze fell on his bike. He groaned. "Bike's history." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "My name is Leona." "Heard when you were talking to Eagle." He tried to stretch his leg out and winced in pain. "Thanks for staying. Name's Brew." Brew? Maybe it was short for something. I could hear motorcycles approaching in the distance. "That was fast," I murmured. "Clubhouse is just down the road," he explained. I knew the only thing down the road was Toby's salvage yard because we'd passed it earlier. Ron had told me that it had been sold a while back. "You must be the new owners." He groaned and laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "Yeah." I could tell that he didn't want to talk. I wished that there was something more I could do and was thankful when several motorcycles crested the hill in the distance, racing our way. The closer they got, the more nervous I got. The four men were big and kind of frightening-looking. They pulled up next to us, gravel and rocks crunching beneath the tires of their huge bikes. I stood up next to Brew's head as they rushed over to us. "The God, Brother, what happened?" The one asking the question crouched next to Brew. He glanced up at me. "You with him?" He was a formidable sight. His short hair matched the scruff on his tight jaw. Beautiful gray eyes peered up at me as he waited for an answer. There was a black tattoo around his thickly corded neck and down his left arm, his sleeveless shirt and cut revealing how muscular his arms were. I hadn't had the chance to get an idea of his height when he'd first arrived, but I could tell that he was built solid beneath his clothes. His faded jeans stretched tightly over his thighs. "No," I managed to get out from beneath his intense stare. "I, um, was in the car—" "Where the heck is it?" one of the other guys asked. They scanned the area before pinning their frowns back on me. "Gone," Brew muttered, drawing gray eyes back to him. For the first time I noticed that he was holding his left side. He'd grown paler. I was glad that I could hear the ambulance coming. "prick took off." Gray Eyes swung his gaze back up to me. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You want to tell me who he is?" Not really. I sensed it would be bad for Ron. Gray Eyes looked like he wanted to hurt someone. "Black Camaro," Brew uttered in a weakening voice. "We passed a Camaro," a tall blonde barked. The four men swapped looks, and Gray Eyes gave a jerk of his head. "Go." "Wait!" I called out as three of them turned at once to head for their bikes. "Are you going to hurt him? It was an accident!" Brew snorted. I knew that I was stretching the truth, but I didn't like the looks on their rugged faces. Gray Eyes stood up. "An accident, huh?" He was taller than I'd expected. "Why'd he run off then?" I swallowed, stepping back so I wouldn't have to crane my neck so much. "He was, um, afraid." "What kind of chicken mess leaves his girlfriend to handle his mess?" Yeah, chicken mess, that was my brother. I stared into the guy's beautiful eyes and took a calming breath. He crossed his arms in a move that could have been taken as threatening. "You gonna tell me who the heck he is?" I shook my head. "Not if you're going to hurt him." His brows shot up. "Hit and run." I silently agreed with him that it looked bad. "You don't think he deserves to pay for hitting someone and leaving them on the side of a road? For leaving his woman to face the consequences?" What? "Why should I face the consequences? I wasn't driving. And I stayed behind to help your friend." "Brother." He sucked in a deep breath and released it through his nose like an angry bull. I got the sense that he didn't like the fact that I wasn't cooperating. He leaned in close and muttered the words, "I want a name." I leaned back nervously, a little frightened by his imposing stature. I didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of man he was, or what he was capable of doing. He might be good to look at, but everything else about him was big and hard and kind of scary. "Don't scare her, Eagle." Eagle turned his head to look at Brew, then turned it back to pin those quick-silver eyes on me. He wanted a name? Playing stupid, I gave him a name. "Leona." Eagle God, she was cute, but I didn't have time to pursue my interest when Brew was groaning in pain. There was no telling how severe his injuries were. His bike was toast, the twisted, broken metal showing how hard he must have hit the tree against which he was resting. I was glad to see the ambulance come up over the hill. I narrowed my gaze on Leo, trying to intimidate her into telling me who the driver of the car that had hit Brew had been. I was good at intimidating people, especially civilians, but she was holding strong, standing there as if she could stare me down and win. Whoever the guy was, I knew he must be someone special to her. She was protecting him. Well, that was too bad. For her. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had a name. Whoever had hit Brew and then taken off was going to pay, one way or another. Soldiers of Retribution hadn't earned their name from ignoring the wrongs done to the club or its members, but I decided to let it go for now. When the ambulance pulled over and two EMTs jumped out, I stood out of the way. "What happened?" one of them asked. I glanced down at Brew. He'd grown pale and was close to losing consciousness. He didn't look capable of answering any questions, so I turned my attention to Leo, crossed my arms and raised a brow. "It was a car accident," she said. "I think he hit the tree headfirst." God, I thought. Brew was lucky to be alive. For the first time I noticed that his brain bucket was cracked and shattered. "Get the cervical collar," one EMT said to the other. "Did anyone call the sheriff?" "The chicken-mess driver drove off," I responded, getting a glare from Leo. Regret filled her eyes, but she kept them focused on mine without fear. "Hit and run? God!" A few minutes passed as they took Brew's vitals and fitted him with a neck brace. Then the one who'd retrieved the neck brace returned to the ambulance and came back with a stretcher. He lowered it to the ground, they carefully lifted Brew on top of it, and then raised it again. "We're taking him to Mid-Coast." I nodded. "He wakes, tell him his brothers will be there soon." I waited until he acknowledged that he'd heard me before turning back to the woman. "I want the name of the driver." She took a breath, which did wonders for her boobs when they stretched against the tee she was wearing. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her jaw just enough to let me know she was going to remain stubborn. "I'm sorry, I can't do that unless you promise not to hurt him." I frowned. "He someone special to you?" "Yes." "Boyfriend?" "No." That was all she offered. "God, woman." I was getting angry over our word play. I noticed that the change in my tone of voice caused her to take a little step back, and, using her fear to my advantage, I moved toward her menacingly. For every step I took closer to her she took one backwards. I almost grinned when her eyes began darting around the area as if she were looking for someone to help her. "You know who we are?" "I've heard of you." "Then you know we're the good guys." A burst of laughter escaped her. "It doesn't look like it right now." "You think this is funny?" She shook her head. "No!" Her backside came up against the tree Brew had slammed into, the breath rushing from between her parted lips. "I tend to laugh when I get nervous. And you're scaring me." "Oh, yeah?" I stopped when I was almost flush against her. A deep breath would have had me brushing against her boobs. "I can scare you a lot more if you don't give me what I want." "I don't appreciate you threatening me. I stayed with your brother. Made the calls for help. Is this how you repay an innocent bystander?" "You're hardly a bystander." I noticed the green of her eyes had little flakes of gold in them, and her lashes were thick and long, natural. The same color as her chestnut hair. I fought to keep from touching the silky waves, realizing that my thoughts of Brew were dulling and being replaced with inappropriate thoughts about Leo. "And I doubt anything about you is innocent." My gaze dropped to her lips, which were covered with a thin gloss. They were plump and tempting. God... My phone vibrated and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for the interruption. It was Lynx. "Did you catch up to him?" "No. He must have turned off somewhere." I kept my eyes on Leo's. "Head to Mid-Coast then. I'll meet you there." "Got it." Once he was off, I hit Wolfe's number. He started right in with, "Buck already called, Brother. You get the name of the driver from the witness?" My lips turned down, frustration evident in my tone, "No. She's not cooperating." "She still with you?" "Yup." "Bring her to the clubhouse. She goes nowhere until we get to the truth. For all we know this could be connected to those pricks the Maniacs and the trouble that went down in New York." I sucked in a deep breath because I sensed that this wasn't going to go over particularly well with the woman. Wolfe was right though--we needed to make sure that Brew hadn't been targeted because he used to ride with the Maniacs. Little Miss Leo may have been innocent, but whoever had been driving that car wasn't, and she was protecting them. "Will do." Wolfe hung up, but I pretended that I was still talking to him. "I'll lock her hip up in the basement." The clubhouse didn't have a basement, but Leo didn't know that. I'd said that part for her, rewarded when worry filled her eyes and she turned pale when she realized I was talking about her. I grinned, enjoying the color of alarm on her pretty face. "Looks like you're coming with me, darlin'." She shook her head and looked like she was going to bolt. "Look around you, Leo. You see anyone else you can hitch a ride with?" "God," I heard her low murmur. "My mama taught me to never go off with strangers. I'll walk." Knowing the area, I snorted. The clubhouse was down the road, about half a mile. After that it was a couple of miles to reach Georgetown. "It's settled then. You're coming with me." "So you can lock me up somewhere? I don't think so." She sank away from me as I stepped closer. I saw her wince as the bark of the tree dug into her back. "You ready to tell me who you're protecting?" She didn't respond but I could see the stubbornness in her eyes. "Then you have two choices. You can either sit behind me and hold on, or I'll put you in front of me and trust me, you won't like what you feel." She blinked. And blinked some more. My grin was suggestive, and once she figured out what I meant, she blushed and stuttered, "Y-You're a pig!" I shrugged. "Just being truthful. I'm a hip man and having one up against me gets me hard." I paused to emphasize. "Every time." I turned and headed for my bike with a grin on my face. "Better make up your mind, before I make it up for you." I climbed on and sat there waiting. I was surprised at the patience I was showing when I wasn't normally a patient man. Only I'd underestimated her stubbornness, and perseverance. When a car crested the hill, her eyes lit up, and I knew instinctively what she was going to do. She was going to cause trouble, that's what. She stepped away from the tree and headed toward the road excitedly. I jumped off my bike and intercepted her. I caught her up against me. "Let me go!" she demanded. The feel of her soft boobs rubbing against me reminded me that I'd been getting a oral job from Jezzie before we'd been interrupted by Leo's call. I still had a slight buzz from that. I inhaled Leo's intoxicating scent, something sweet and fresh, and exotic. The interest I'd pushed aside earlier came back with a vengeance. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and I gave in to a need I didn't know I had. I wanted to find out if her plump lips were as soft as they looked. I had to taste her. I slammed my mouth down on hers and pecked her hard. Leo struggled to get away for a second before it turned into something different and then she pecked me back. The small hands that had been pushing against my chest were now fisting my cut and holding me tightly. Her sweet mouth moved hungrily against mine, her moans of submission music to my ears. When our tongues meshed, all warm and wet, I lost it. The groan that escaped me sounded like one coming from a bear. An unexplainable need of arousal uncurled in my gut as my shaft rose to the occasion. Jesus, I should feel guilty for getting so turned on by Leo when Jillian was the one that I wanted. Jillian was the woman I'd been watching and waiting to make a move on, but the timing had never seemed right. Friends. We were still just friends. This woman meant nothing to me and yet having her in my arms was making me feel everything. The car's horn should have startled us apart. I reminded myself why I was pecking her in the first place and pulled away, anger close to the surface. Anger at myself for feeling guilty over how much I liked pecking Leo. I shouldn't like pecking another woman. God, I didn't even peck the sweet tarts. I slept them, though. I had needs and they were there for relief, and that was all. Until I made Jillian mine. God! I glared down at the little spitfire in my arms. She was flushed with heat, her eyes glossy. Her lips were swollen and wet. I'd done that to her, and I wondered what she saw on my face. God, I should never have pecked her, but the situation had called for drastic measures. To make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I curled my hand around the softness of her upper arm and pulled her with me. "Come on." She tried to pull away and I swung on her like a vicious dog. "I'm done!" I snarled in her face. She flinched but I kept going. "Now get your hip on my bike!" She stared at me for a minute and then wordlessly went to my bike. I waited for her to climb on before joining her. "You ever ridden before?" I swung my leg over. "No." "We don't have far to go. Just hold on and lean into any turns I take." I waited for her to wrap her arms around me, but it never happened. Her little hands tentatively clutched at my sides. I started my bike and reached down for her hands, wrapping her arms around me. I ignored her huff and crossed one hand over the other. "Don't let go." "Don't worry," came her snarky response. "I'm looking forward to being locked up in the basement." Grinning, I took off.
Mom accidentally adds me into a group chat called "Happy Family". In the group chat, I saw Mom, Dad, and a stranger who's nicknamed "sweetheart". They are in the middle of organizing a birthday party for him. However, the thing is, tomorrow will be my birthday, which they have forgotten for the tenth time in a row. Mom says, "The venue must be dreamy. I want him to feel like an actual prince." Dad transfers a huge sum of money to "sweetheart". "Money is no problem! Just don't let Christopher find out about this. It'll screw things up for us!" I quietly take screenshots of everything, planning to find a chance to expose my parents' true colors and end everything with them once and for all. At that moment, my younger sister, who's always been great at her studies, sends me a screenshot via our private chat. It's a screenshot of the chat history between her and Mom. "Mom, have you made preparations for Christopher's surprise party yet? You promised me that this is the last time you'd lie to him!" Chapter 1 I stared at the screenshots my sister, Suzy Blake, had sent me, and my heart sank. A surprise? The last time they would ever lie to me? That explained so much. Every year on my birthday, my parents would brush me off with all sorts of excuses. "Chris, something urgent came up at work," Mom once said. "Chris, I've got a meeting with a friend about business. Order some takeout for yourself," Dad once said. This year, they didn't even bother with excuses. They had simply replaced me with someone else. I tossed my phone aside. My chest felt as if something heavy had lodged itself there. Another message from Suzy popped up. "Christopher, don't overthink it. Mom and Dad just—" I replied with just two words. "Got it." Overthink it? How could I not overthink it? The facts were right in front of me. That birthday party for their "sweetheart" was the so-called surprise they had lied to me about. As their biological son, I was nothing more than a backdrop for another boy's happiness. I heard Mom's hushed voice from the living room as she spoke on the phone. "Right, we'll go with blue balloons, the biggest and brightest ones. Ben loves blue the most, so it has to be perfect for him." Ben. Listening closely to their conversation, I pieced together the boy's full name—Benjamin Smith. I picked up my phone and searched for the name on social media. Soon, a boy with a polished profile picture appeared. His highlighted stories were filled with glamorous photos of him traveling around the world. His most recent post was a photo of him with my parents, taken in my living room. In the photo, Mom and Dad's smiles were warm and loving. Mom's arm rested affectionately on Benjamin's shoulder, while Dad stood beside him with eyes full of indulgence. It was an expression I had never once seen on their faces. The caption read, "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's party!" Mom left a comment underneath. "Silly child, there's no need to be so formal with us." Meanwhile, Dad gave the post a like. What a perfect "family". I saved the photo along with the group chat screenshots and stored them in my encrypted album. These would be the "surprises" I planned to give them tomorrow. At dinner, Mom made soup and served me a bowl with exaggerated attentiveness. "Chris, try it. I made this especially for you," she said. I looked at the greasy chicken soup. My throat tightened as a wave of nausea surged up. "Is this supposed to liven up Benjamin's birthday party?" I asked lightly. The smile on Mom's face froze. She glanced at Dad, and his expression darkened immediately. "What nonsense are you talking about? Benjamin?" he replied. "Oh? Looks like you forget things easily, Dad." I took out my phone and opened the photo. "Isn't this boy your so-called sweetheart?" Dad's face turned ashen in an instant. Mom rushed to smooth things over. "Chris, you misunderstood. He's the son of an important client of mine. We're just helping to organize his birthday party." "A client's son?" I sneered. "Is he important enough to have a whole group chat, to be tagged as 'sweetheart', and to even receive a large money transfer? Is he important enough to make you ignore your own son's birthday entirely?" In an instant, the living room fell silent except for the sound of breathing. Suzy rushed out of her room and grabbed my arm. "Christopher, let's not get carried away." I shook her off. "What? Are you going to help Mom and Dad lie to me too?" Suzy's face turned pale. Her lips moved, but not a single word came out. … The next day, on my birthday, the house was empty. A hundred dollars and a note were left on the table. The note was in Mom's handwriting. "Chris, the money is on the table. Buy yourself something good to eat." Chapter 2 My parents had treated me with the same indifference for ten years. Even the amount of money they gave me had never changed. I crumpled the bill into a tight ball and tossed it into the trash. After last night ended badly, they stopped pretending altogether. I heard Mom talking on the phone in her room. Her voice was brimming with excitement. "The venue is already set up. It looks just like a fairy tale!" Dad was giving instructions on the balcony. "Bring the bottle of '82 Lafite. We have to make sure Ben enjoys himself today." All the while, I drifted through the house like a ghost. Suzy left early that morning. Before she went, she glanced at me with a complicated look. "Christopher, no matter what you see, trust me." Trust her? Trust that she was part of this deception too? I let out a cold laugh and said nothing. Around noon, a delivery truck stopped downstairs. Two workers unloaded an enormous gift box tied with an exaggerated blue bow. I stood by the window and watched. It turned out that, to them, I didn't even deserve a gift. Mom hurried downstairs, smiling from ear to ear as she signed for the delivery. She directed the workers with extreme care, afraid it might get damaged. I recognized the logo. It was a limited edition piano released just last month, priced well into six figures. Meanwhile, my old piano, which I had used for ten years, had yellowed keys and was out of tune. I had hinted at it to Mom before, but she always replied, "If it still works, keep using it. The household expenses are heavy." It turned out that the expenses were not the problem. I simply wasn't worth it. The last trace of hope in my heart was completely extinguished. That afternoon, I changed into a black suit. I neatly styled my hair and adjusted my appearance to conceal the exhaustion in my eyes. I couldn't let them see me in such a disheveled state. I would draw a clear line between us with my head held high. I had overheard the address for the party during Mom's phone call the night before. They had reserved the most prestigious banquet hall in the city. I took a cab there. Along the way, the driver kept marveling at the impending event. "Young man, what big occasion is it today? The road ahead is blocked. I heard that some rich family is throwing a birthday party for their son, and it's incredibly extravagant." I forced a faint smile and said nothing. Yes, the party was grand—so grand that it was built on ten years of my grievances. A long red carpet stretched across the entrance of the hall, flanked by rows of blue rose arrangements. On the welcome sign at the entrance, elegant cursive letters read, "Happy Birthday to My Sweetheart." It was signed, "With love, your Mom and Dad." I stared at those words, finding them painfully glaring. I took out my phone and sent Suzy a message. "I'm here to see your so-called surprise." Then I took a deep breath and stepped inside in my leather shoes. Inside the banquet hall, glasses clinked, and laughter filled the air. My parents stood in the middle of the crowd, smiling warmly as they entertained the guests. Beside them stood a boy dressed in a blue formal suit. That was Benjamin. He looked like a proud peacock, basking in everyone's attention and well-wishes. Mom personally placed an exquisite diamond crown on his head and said gently, "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince." Dad handed him a velvet box containing a dazzling diamond watch. "Do you like it? I had it custom-made just for you." Benjamin smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. You are so good to me." The guests around them gasped in admiration. "Oliver, I can't believe how well you're treating your godson. You're doting on him more than your own son!" "Exactly. With generosity like this, we can't even compare." "Oliver, he's only a godson, and you're already treating him like this. If it were your own son's birthday, you'd probably pluck the stars from the sky!" My parents laughed heartily. They waved their hands repeatedly and said, "It's the least we could do." No one noticed me standing in the corner. I held up my phone and recorded the scene clearly. Then, I straightened my suit, picked up a glass of champagne, and slowly walked toward them. The surrounding noise seemed to fade away. All I could see was that harmonious "family of three". Mom raised her glass and announced to the guests, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate our sweetheart's birthday today—" "Your sweetheart?" I asked. Chapter 3 I repeated Mom's words in an icy tone. The smiles on my parents' faces vanished instantly. Mom reacted faster. She stepped forward and reached for my hand, but I turned aside and avoided her. "Chris, why are you here?" she asked. Her voice trembled. "Come here, let me introduce you. This is—" I cut her off, fixing my gaze squarely on Benjamin. "This is Benjamin Smith, your sweetheart, right?" The smile faded from Benjamin's face as well. He looked at me, visibly at a loss. A flicker of sympathy passed through his eyes before he turned to my parents for help. "Who is this?" a guest asked. Dad's face darkened completely. He lowered his voice and snapped, "Christopher Blake! Stop causing trouble here and go home!" "Causing trouble?" I laughed coldly. "Dad, did you forget what day it is? Today is also your own son's birthday—mine." I spoke every word clearly. Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd. Everyone's eyes shifted back and forth between my parents and me, filled with curiosity and gossip. "So he's the real son… Then—" "Unbelievable. How can they ignore their own son's birthday and throw such a massive party for an outsider?" "What's Mr. Blake thinking? I honestly don't understand it." As the murmurs reached my parents, their expressions darkened. Mom's lips trembled. Dad's eyes went from panicked to furious. "That's enough!" Dad slammed his hand on the table. "Did you really have to ruin everything today?" "Ruin everything?" I raised my phone and clicked on a video. "Mom, who's really ruining everything? Who's the one who's preparing a surprise for me while putting a crown on someone else and giving him a watch?" On the screen, the footage clearly showed Mom gently placing the crown on Benjamin's head. "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince," she said. Those words echoed through the silent banquet hall from the phone's speaker. All the color drained from Mom's face. I switched to the group photo. "And this—how did the son of your so-called important client become your sweetheart?" I turned the screen toward the crowd so everyone could see the photo and the comments beneath it. The guests' faces contorted with surprise, judgment, and disbelief. Dad trembled with rage. He jabbed a finger at me wordlessly. "Christopher Blake, y-you—" "What?" I asked. I met his gaze. My eyes were welling up, but my voice stayed cold. "I just want to ask you this in person. Does having a new son feel so much better than having me? What did I do to deserve being humiliated and cast aside like this?" My voice grew louder, echoing the ten years of anguish I suffered. Benjamin's face turned pale. He tugged at Mom's sleeve and whispered, "Mrs. Blake, this—" Mom yanked her hand away from him. She looked at me with eyes full of regret. "Chris, it's not what you think. It's really not what you think!" "Then, what is it?" I demanded. "Come on, say it!" At that moment, the doors of the banquet hall were pushed open. Suzy rushed in. When she saw the tense standoff, her face went pale. She ran up to me and gripped my arm tightly. Her voice was shaking. "Christopher, listen to my explanation!" "Enough! I don't want to hear any more explanations from you!" I shouted. I struggled to break free from her. I had already achieved my purpose today. I wanted everyone to see the true faces of my so-called model parents, letting the carefully crafted image they had spent years building fall apart today. I raised my phone high, ready to project the group chat screenshots onto the big screen. "Mom, Dad, this show is over!" Just as I was about to press the projection button, Suzy snatched my phone and clutched it tightly to her chest. "Christopher! Please! Just wait five more minutes!" Her eyes were red, and her voice was filled with desperation.
"Slow down or we're going to have an accident!" I screamed as my brother swerved around the semi, just as a biker crested the hill, heading straight for us. Then everything went black. When I wake up, I'm staring into the stormy eyes of Eagle, VP of the Soldiers of Retribution MC. My reckless brother fled the crash, leaving me to face the consequences. Now Eagle's demanding answers, his grip bruising my arm. "Give me the driver's name," he growls, but I can't betray my own brother, even if he abandoned me. Trapped in their clubhouse, I expect violence. Instead, I get something worse: a peck that sears my soul. Eagle's touch ignites a fire I can't control, even as his threats send chills down my spine. The Soldiers don't take betrayal lightly, and my loyalty to Ron might cost me everything—including my heart. ——————— Leona "Slow down or we're going to have an accident." My brother, Ron, was all over the road and getting on my last nerve. He was a reckless driver by choice, so I knew that my words were wasted, but someday he was going to regret not listening to me. "Relax, Sis." He swerved around another vehicle, which were far and few on the country road, and I clutched the dashboard to keep from being thrown against the door. "I've never had an accident." I rolled my eyes. Never say never, I wanted to tell him. "Yet," I stressed with a tight mouth. We were coming up fast on a semi, a rare sight on this road, and I held my breath, waiting for Ron's next move. It was a two-lane country road and there was a hill ahead of us. "What the heck are you doing?" I cried out when Ron pulled into the oncoming lane. I glared at him as if he were crazy, which he was. "Ron!" I screamed, panicked. "It's clear," he laughed my concern away. "I checked. See?" It was clear, and he accelerated to go around the semi. Just as we were even with the cab of the truck we were trying to pass, a motorcycle crested the hill, coming from the opposite direction, and headed straight for us. I let out a scream when I realized that our only course was to back off and move back behind the semi again. "Ron?" I said in a warning tone when it didn't appear that he was slowing down. "I got time!" I stared at the road ahead of us, my eyes rounding in fear as the motorcyclist got closer. "Ron!" This wasn't happening! "We're going to hit him!" Panic overwhelmed me as our window of making a life-saving decision narrowed. My gaze focused on the biker. I couldn't see his face because of his visor, but I got the sense that he was braking. Because of the speed he was going his bike wobbled slightly and I gasped, thinking that I was about to see him lose control. His options weren't great. "Ron..." My heart moved up into my throat. I was certain that I was about to see a man die, and in a horrible way. "God!" Ron cursed, finally realizing that he wasn't going to make it. He slammed on the brakes, allowing the semi to continue past us, but it was too late for the biker. Everything happened in a blur after that. Ron swore again. I screamed and braced myself. The motorcyclist veered off the road, losing control on the gravel shoulder and skidding into the wet grass. I turned in my seat to watch where he ended up, crying out when his bike slammed into a small tree. "Ohmygod! Stop the car!" I demanded as Ron continued down the road, along with the semi, each of them acting as if nothing had happened. "Ron, stop the car!" I grabbed at the door handle, fully prepared to exit the moving vehicle. "He could be hurt!" He could be dead! In sheer desperation I grabbed the wheel. Cursing beneath his breath, Ron swerved over to the shoulder, braking hard enough to send me slamming into the dash. He glared at me, I glared back, his mouth opening as if to say something. "Don't say a word, dumbhip!" I swore as I opened the door and jumped out. I ran to the biker. His bike had hit the tree head on, and it was obvious that he'd been thrown. The bike was destroyed. I only prayed that the man had survived. I crouched down next to him, taking note of the twisted way in which he was resting on the damp ground. Oh my God! "Is he okay?" I could hear the nervousness in Ron's voice as he hovered close by. "It was a accident!" he whined. "He should have slowed down!" He was already making excuses for his bad behavior, one of his familiar traits. "You were the one in the wrong!" I snapped, shooting him a look of anger. I was so mad I was shaking. A low moan indicated that the man on the ground was alive. "Help me turn him over. And be careful!" When Ron didn't move, I glanced back at him. He was slowly backing up, a look of horror on his thin face. He shook his head. "No..." His eyes met mine. "Do you know who he is? He's with the Soldiers of Retribution!" The fear in his wild eyes held me momentarily frozen. I'd heard of the local MC, had seen them riding around town, but had never been close to any of them. I returned my gaze to the motionless man on the ground, taking in the words on the back of his leather jacket. "So?" I said after a while. "He's hurt. We have to help him." Ron continued to shake his head, his backward steps never faltering as they took him back to his car. "Come on. We have to leave him. They'll kill us..." I snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Get a grip, Ron. It was an accident, as you pointed out. We're not going to leave an injured man on the side of the road. It could be hours before anyone else comes along. Now help me turn him over so I can see how hurt he is." Ron hesitated and then reluctantly walked back to me. Together we managed to turn the huge man over until he was on his back. His low groan of pain sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted his cracked visor to get a look at his face. "Okay, we've turned him over, now let's go." "Are you serious right now? Jesus, Ron!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving him!" I said harshly, running my eyes over the man as I tried to assess his injuries. The blood on his forehead and the side of his face revealed that he had a head injury. "We have to go!" Ron reached down, grabbed my arm, and tried to haul me to my feet. "Before anyone comes!" "What is wrong with you?" I snarled, jerking my arm away and falling back to the ground. "Call an ambulance!" The man groaned again, louder this time. "After we leave here, we'll call for an ambulance. You don't want to get on the bad side of the Soldiers." "Then you go!" I yelled, furious and fed up with him. I wasn't familiar with the reputation of the Soldiers of Retribution, but I'd never seen or heard anything negative about them. In fact, just the opposite. But something had my brother spooked. "I'll call you when I get home." I couldn't keep the disgust out of my tone. I returned my attention to the man on the ground and caught my breath. His eyes were open and he was staring up at me, pain etched on his chiseled features. He wet his lips. "Can you move?" I asked him worriedly. "God, that hurt." He ignored me. "Call..." For the first time I noticed that he'd reached for something in his jacket and was struggling to get it out. Behind me I heard Ron take off. I shook my head with deep disappointment and realized that his running away was only going to cause him more problems. "Here, let me." I gently moved the man's hand aside and dug out his phone. "Who do you want me to call?" He started to say something, cleared his throat, and whispered, "Eagle..." "Eagle. Okay." I went down his contact list until I found Eagle and hit his number. "Shouldn't I call 911, too?" I caught the slight nod of his head that indicated yes. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I asked as Eagle's number rang. "Take my helmet off." I put his phone on my shoulder and did as he asked. "Where the heck are you, Brother? You're late." I cleared my throat. "Um, hello?" There was clear surprise in the silence I was met with. "Your brother has been in an accident." "Who the heck is this?" "Leona. We—" "What happened?" "It was a car accident." "God!" His breathing picked up, and I could tell that he was on the move. "Where are you, Leo?" Leo? I could hear the frown in his voice. "Down on the old farmer's road by the abandoned Kent farm." "Have you called 911?" "He, ah, asked me to call you first." "Call for an ambulance," he growled. "We're on our way." He hung up and I met the slightly dazed eyes of the man on the ground. His lips were pressed tightly together, an indication that he was in pain. I dialed 911, gave directions, and then hung up. "Are you in any pain?" I realized how stupid that sounded, but felt that conversation would keep him from passing out on me. He groaned. "God, lady, I hit a tree." His brown eyes moved over me as he tried to sit up. "Nice boyfriend you have, leaving you to fend for yourself." I wasn't about to inform him that Ron was my reckless, chicken-hearted eighteen-year-old brother. The less I said about him, the better. I watched him struggle for a minute before I bent to help him into a sitting position against the tree. "Do you feel like anything is broken?" He shook his head. "Just had the wind knocked out of me." "You might have a concussion," I offered when he brought his hand up to his head. He brought his hand down and looked at the blood. "Been worse." His gaze fell on his bike. He groaned. "Bike's history." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "My name is Leona." "Heard when you were talking to Eagle." He tried to stretch his leg out and winced in pain. "Thanks for staying. Name's Brew." Brew? Maybe it was short for something. I could hear motorcycles approaching in the distance. "That was fast," I murmured. "Clubhouse is just down the road," he explained. I knew the only thing down the road was Toby's salvage yard because we'd passed it earlier. Ron had told me that it had been sold a while back. "You must be the new owners." He groaned and laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "Yeah." I could tell that he didn't want to talk. I wished that there was something more I could do and was thankful when several motorcycles crested the hill in the distance, racing our way. The closer they got, the more nervous I got. The four men were big and kind of frightening-looking. They pulled up next to us, gravel and rocks crunching beneath the tires of their huge bikes. I stood up next to Brew's head as they rushed over to us. "The God, Brother, what happened?" The one asking the question crouched next to Brew. He glanced up at me. "You with him?" He was a formidable sight. His short hair matched the scruff on his tight jaw. Beautiful gray eyes peered up at me as he waited for an answer. There was a black tattoo around his thickly corded neck and down his left arm, his sleeveless shirt and cut revealing how muscular his arms were. I hadn't had the chance to get an idea of his height when he'd first arrived, but I could tell that he was built solid beneath his clothes. His faded jeans stretched tightly over his thighs. "No," I managed to get out from beneath his intense stare. "I, um, was in the car—" "Where the heck is it?" one of the other guys asked. They scanned the area before pinning their frowns back on me. "Gone," Brew muttered, drawing gray eyes back to him. For the first time I noticed that he was holding his left side. He'd grown paler. I was glad that I could hear the ambulance coming. "prick took off." Gray Eyes swung his gaze back up to me. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You want to tell me who he is?" Not really. I sensed it would be bad for Ron. Gray Eyes looked like he wanted to hurt someone. "Black Camaro," Brew uttered in a weakening voice. "We passed a Camaro," a tall blonde barked. The four men swapped looks, and Gray Eyes gave a jerk of his head. "Go." "Wait!" I called out as three of them turned at once to head for their bikes. "Are you going to hurt him? It was an accident!" Brew snorted. I knew that I was stretching the truth, but I didn't like the looks on their rugged faces. Gray Eyes stood up. "An accident, huh?" He was taller than I'd expected. "Why'd he run off then?" I swallowed, stepping back so I wouldn't have to crane my neck so much. "He was, um, afraid." "What kind of chicken mess leaves his girlfriend to handle his mess?" Yeah, chicken mess, that was my brother. I stared into the guy's beautiful eyes and took a calming breath. He crossed his arms in a move that could have been taken as threatening. "You gonna tell me who the heck he is?" I shook my head. "Not if you're going to hurt him." His brows shot up. "Hit and run." I silently agreed with him that it looked bad. "You don't think he deserves to pay for hitting someone and leaving them on the side of a road? For leaving his woman to face the consequences?" What? "Why should I face the consequences? I wasn't driving. And I stayed behind to help your friend." "Brother." He sucked in a deep breath and released it through his nose like an angry bull. I got the sense that he didn't like the fact that I wasn't cooperating. He leaned in close and muttered the words, "I want a name." I leaned back nervously, a little frightened by his imposing stature. I didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of man he was, or what he was capable of doing. He might be good to look at, but everything else about him was big and hard and kind of scary. "Don't scare her, Eagle." Eagle turned his head to look at Brew, then turned it back to pin those quick-silver eyes on me. He wanted a name? Playing stupid, I gave him a name. "Leona." Eagle God, she was cute, but I didn't have time to pursue my interest when Brew was groaning in pain. There was no telling how severe his injuries were. His bike was toast, the twisted, broken metal showing how hard he must have hit the tree against which he was resting. I was glad to see the ambulance come up over the hill. I narrowed my gaze on Leo, trying to intimidate her into telling me who the driver of the car that had hit Brew had been. I was good at intimidating people, especially civilians, but she was holding strong, standing there as if she could stare me down and win. Whoever the guy was, I knew he must be someone special to her. She was protecting him. Well, that was too bad. For her. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had a name. Whoever had hit Brew and then taken off was going to pay, one way or another. Soldiers of Retribution hadn't earned their name from ignoring the wrongs done to the club or its members, but I decided to let it go for now. When the ambulance pulled over and two EMTs jumped out, I stood out of the way. "What happened?" one of them asked. I glanced down at Brew. He'd grown pale and was close to losing consciousness. He didn't look capable of answering any questions, so I turned my attention to Leo, crossed my arms and raised a brow. "It was a car accident," she said. "I think he hit the tree headfirst." God, I thought. Brew was lucky to be alive. For the first time I noticed that his brain bucket was cracked and shattered. "Get the cervical collar," one EMT said to the other. "Did anyone call the sheriff?" "The chicken-mess driver drove off," I responded, getting a glare from Leo. Regret filled her eyes, but she kept them focused on mine without fear. "Hit and run? God!" A few minutes passed as they took Brew's vitals and fitted him with a neck brace. Then the one who'd retrieved the neck brace returned to the ambulance and came back with a stretcher. He lowered it to the ground, they carefully lifted Brew on top of it, and then raised it again. "We're taking him to Mid-Coast." I nodded. "He wakes, tell him his brothers will be there soon." I waited until he acknowledged that he'd heard me before turning back to the woman. "I want the name of the driver." She took a breath, which did wonders for her boobs when they stretched against the tee she was wearing. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her jaw just enough to let me know she was going to remain stubborn. "I'm sorry, I can't do that unless you promise not to hurt him." I frowned. "He someone special to you?" "Yes." "Boyfriend?" "No." That was all she offered. "God, woman." I was getting angry over our word play. I noticed that the change in my tone of voice caused her to take a little step back, and, using her fear to my advantage, I moved toward her menacingly. For every step I took closer to her she took one backwards. I almost grinned when her eyes began darting around the area as if she were looking for someone to help her. "You know who we are?" "I've heard of you." "Then you know we're the good guys." A burst of laughter escaped her. "It doesn't look like it right now." "You think this is funny?" She shook her head. "No!" Her backside came up against the tree Brew had slammed into, the breath rushing from between her parted lips. "I tend to laugh when I get nervous. And you're scaring me." "Oh, yeah?" I stopped when I was almost flush against her. A deep breath would have had me brushing against her boobs. "I can scare you a lot more if you don't give me what I want." "I don't appreciate you threatening me. I stayed with your brother. Made the calls for help. Is this how you repay an innocent bystander?" "You're hardly a bystander." I noticed the green of her eyes had little flakes of gold in them, and her lashes were thick and long, natural. The same color as her chestnut hair. I fought to keep from touching the silky waves, realizing that my thoughts of Brew were dulling and being replaced with inappropriate thoughts about Leo. "And I doubt anything about you is innocent." My gaze dropped to her lips, which were covered with a thin gloss. They were plump and tempting. God... My phone vibrated and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for the interruption. It was Lynx. "Did you catch up to him?" "No. He must have turned off somewhere." I kept my eyes on Leo's. "Head to Mid-Coast then. I'll meet you there." "Got it." Once he was off, I hit Wolfe's number. He started right in with, "Buck already called, Brother. You get the name of the driver from the witness?" My lips turned down, frustration evident in my tone, "No. She's not cooperating." "She still with you?" "Yup." "Bring her to the clubhouse. She goes nowhere until we get to the truth. For all we know this could be connected to those pricks the Maniacs and the trouble that went down in New York." I sucked in a deep breath because I sensed that this wasn't going to go over particularly well with the woman. Wolfe was right though--we needed to make sure that Brew hadn't been targeted because he used to ride with the Maniacs. Little Miss Leo may have been innocent, but whoever had been driving that car wasn't, and she was protecting them. "Will do." Wolfe hung up, but I pretended that I was still talking to him. "I'll lock her hip up in the basement." The clubhouse didn't have a basement, but Leo didn't know that. I'd said that part for her, rewarded when worry filled her eyes and she turned pale when she realized I was talking about her. I grinned, enjoying the color of alarm on her pretty face. "Looks like you're coming with me, darlin'." She shook her head and looked like she was going to bolt. "Look around you, Leo. You see anyone else you can hitch a ride with?" "God," I heard her low murmur. "My mama taught me to never go off with strangers. I'll walk." Knowing the area, I snorted. The clubhouse was down the road, about half a mile. After that it was a couple of miles to reach Georgetown. "It's settled then. You're coming with me." "So you can lock me up somewhere? I don't think so." She sank away from me as I stepped closer. I saw her wince as the bark of the tree dug into her back. "You ready to tell me who you're protecting?" She didn't respond but I could see the stubbornness in her eyes. "Then you have two choices. You can either sit behind me and hold on, or I'll put you in front of me and trust me, you won't like what you feel." She blinked. And blinked some more. My grin was suggestive, and once she figured out what I meant, she blushed and stuttered, "Y-You're a pig!" I shrugged. "Just being truthful. I'm a hip man and having one up against me gets me hard." I paused to emphasize. "Every time." I turned and headed for my bike with a grin on my face. "Better make up your mind, before I make it up for you." I climbed on and sat there waiting. I was surprised at the patience I was showing when I wasn't normally a patient man. Only I'd underestimated her stubbornness, and perseverance. When a car crested the hill, her eyes lit up, and I knew instinctively what she was going to do. She was going to cause trouble, that's what. She stepped away from the tree and headed toward the road excitedly. I jumped off my bike and intercepted her. I caught her up against me. "Let me go!" she demanded. The feel of her soft boobs rubbing against me reminded me that I'd been getting a oral job from Jezzie before we'd been interrupted by Leo's call. I still had a slight buzz from that. I inhaled Leo's intoxicating scent, something sweet and fresh, and exotic. The interest I'd pushed aside earlier came back with a vengeance. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and I gave in to a need I didn't know I had. I wanted to find out if her plump lips were as soft as they looked. I had to taste her. I slammed my mouth down on hers and pecked her hard. Leo struggled to get away for a second before it turned into something different and then she pecked me back. The small hands that had been pushing against my chest were now fisting my cut and holding me tightly. Her sweet mouth moved hungrily against mine, her moans of submission music to my ears. When our tongues meshed, all warm and wet, I lost it. The groan that escaped me sounded like one coming from a bear. An unexplainable need of arousal uncurled in my gut as my shaft rose to the occasion. Jesus, I should feel guilty for getting so turned on by Leo when Jillian was the one that I wanted. Jillian was the woman I'd been watching and waiting to make a move on, but the timing had never seemed right. Friends. We were still just friends. This woman meant nothing to me and yet having her in my arms was making me feel everything. The car's horn should have startled us apart. I reminded myself why I was pecking her in the first place and pulled away, anger close to the surface. Anger at myself for feeling guilty over how much I liked pecking Leo. I shouldn't like pecking another woman. God, I didn't even peck the sweet tarts. I slept them, though. I had needs and they were there for relief, and that was all. Until I made Jillian mine. God! I glared down at the little spitfire in my arms. She was flushed with heat, her eyes glossy. Her lips were swollen and wet. I'd done that to her, and I wondered what she saw on my face. God, I should never have pecked her, but the situation had called for drastic measures. To make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I curled my hand around the softness of her upper arm and pulled her with me. "Come on." She tried to pull away and I swung on her like a vicious dog. "I'm done!" I snarled in her face. She flinched but I kept going. "Now get your hip on my bike!" She stared at me for a minute and then wordlessly went to my bike. I waited for her to climb on before joining her. "You ever ridden before?" I swung my leg over. "No." "We don't have far to go. Just hold on and lean into any turns I take." I waited for her to wrap her arms around me, but it never happened. Her little hands tentatively clutched at my sides. I started my bike and reached down for her hands, wrapping her arms around me. I ignored her huff and crossed one hand over the other. "Don't let go." "Don't worry," came her snarky response. "I'm looking forward to being locked up in the basement." Grinning, I took off.
Mom accidentally adds me into a group chat called "Happy Family". In the group chat, I saw Mom, Dad, and a stranger who's nicknamed "sweetheart". They are in the middle of organizing a birthday party for him. However, the thing is, tomorrow will be my birthday, which they have forgotten for the tenth time in a row. Mom says, "The venue must be dreamy. I want him to feel like an actual prince." Dad transfers a huge sum of money to "sweetheart". "Money is no problem! Just don't let Christopher find out about this. It'll screw things up for us!" I quietly take screenshots of everything, planning to find a chance to expose my parents' true colors and end everything with them once and for all. At that moment, my younger sister, who's always been great at her studies, sends me a screenshot via our private chat. It's a screenshot of the chat history between her and Mom. "Mom, have you made preparations for Christopher's surprise party yet? You promised me that this is the last time you'd lie to him!" Chapter 1 I stared at the screenshots my sister, Suzy Blake, had sent me, and my heart sank. A surprise? The last time they would ever lie to me? That explained so much. Every year on my birthday, my parents would brush me off with all sorts of excuses. "Chris, something urgent came up at work," Mom once said. "Chris, I've got a meeting with a friend about business. Order some takeout for yourself," Dad once said. This year, they didn't even bother with excuses. They had simply replaced me with someone else. I tossed my phone aside. My chest felt as if something heavy had lodged itself there. Another message from Suzy popped up. "Christopher, don't overthink it. Mom and Dad just—" I replied with just two words. "Got it." Overthink it? How could I not overthink it? The facts were right in front of me. That birthday party for their "sweetheart" was the so-called surprise they had lied to me about. As their biological son, I was nothing more than a backdrop for another boy's happiness. I heard Mom's hushed voice from the living room as she spoke on the phone. "Right, we'll go with blue balloons, the biggest and brightest ones. Ben loves blue the most, so it has to be perfect for him." Ben. Listening closely to their conversation, I pieced together the boy's full name—Benjamin Smith. I picked up my phone and searched for the name on social media. Soon, a boy with a polished profile picture appeared. His highlighted stories were filled with glamorous photos of him traveling around the world. His most recent post was a photo of him with my parents, taken in my living room. In the photo, Mom and Dad's smiles were warm and loving. Mom's arm rested affectionately on Benjamin's shoulder, while Dad stood beside him with eyes full of indulgence. It was an expression I had never once seen on their faces. The caption read, "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's party!" Mom left a comment underneath. "Silly child, there's no need to be so formal with us." Meanwhile, Dad gave the post a like. What a perfect "family". I saved the photo along with the group chat screenshots and stored them in my encrypted album. These would be the "surprises" I planned to give them tomorrow. At dinner, Mom made soup and served me a bowl with exaggerated attentiveness. "Chris, try it. I made this especially for you," she said. I looked at the greasy chicken soup. My throat tightened as a wave of nausea surged up. "Is this supposed to liven up Benjamin's birthday party?" I asked lightly. The smile on Mom's face froze. She glanced at Dad, and his expression darkened immediately. "What nonsense are you talking about? Benjamin?" he replied. "Oh? Looks like you forget things easily, Dad." I took out my phone and opened the photo. "Isn't this boy your so-called sweetheart?" Dad's face turned ashen in an instant. Mom rushed to smooth things over. "Chris, you misunderstood. He's the son of an important client of mine. We're just helping to organize his birthday party." "A client's son?" I sneered. "Is he important enough to have a whole group chat, to be tagged as 'sweetheart', and to even receive a large money transfer? Is he important enough to make you ignore your own son's birthday entirely?" In an instant, the living room fell silent except for the sound of breathing. Suzy rushed out of her room and grabbed my arm. "Christopher, let's not get carried away." I shook her off. "What? Are you going to help Mom and Dad lie to me too?" Suzy's face turned pale. Her lips moved, but not a single word came out. … The next day, on my birthday, the house was empty. A hundred dollars and a note were left on the table. The note was in Mom's handwriting. "Chris, the money is on the table. Buy yourself something good to eat." Chapter 2 My parents had treated me with the same indifference for ten years. Even the amount of money they gave me had never changed. I crumpled the bill into a tight ball and tossed it into the trash. After last night ended badly, they stopped pretending altogether. I heard Mom talking on the phone in her room. Her voice was brimming with excitement. "The venue is already set up. It looks just like a fairy tale!" Dad was giving instructions on the balcony. "Bring the bottle of '82 Lafite. We have to make sure Ben enjoys himself today." All the while, I drifted through the house like a ghost. Suzy left early that morning. Before she went, she glanced at me with a complicated look. "Christopher, no matter what you see, trust me." Trust her? Trust that she was part of this deception too? I let out a cold laugh and said nothing. Around noon, a delivery truck stopped downstairs. Two workers unloaded an enormous gift box tied with an exaggerated blue bow. I stood by the window and watched. It turned out that, to them, I didn't even deserve a gift. Mom hurried downstairs, smiling from ear to ear as she signed for the delivery. She directed the workers with extreme care, afraid it might get damaged. I recognized the logo. It was a limited edition piano released just last month, priced well into six figures. Meanwhile, my old piano, which I had used for ten years, had yellowed keys and was out of tune. I had hinted at it to Mom before, but she always replied, "If it still works, keep using it. The household expenses are heavy." It turned out that the expenses were not the problem. I simply wasn't worth it. The last trace of hope in my heart was completely extinguished. That afternoon, I changed into a black suit. I neatly styled my hair and adjusted my appearance to conceal the exhaustion in my eyes. I couldn't let them see me in such a disheveled state. I would draw a clear line between us with my head held high. I had overheard the address for the party during Mom's phone call the night before. They had reserved the most prestigious banquet hall in the city. I took a cab there. Along the way, the driver kept marveling at the impending event. "Young man, what big occasion is it today? The road ahead is blocked. I heard that some rich family is throwing a birthday party for their son, and it's incredibly extravagant." I forced a faint smile and said nothing. Yes, the party was grand—so grand that it was built on ten years of my grievances. A long red carpet stretched across the entrance of the hall, flanked by rows of blue rose arrangements. On the welcome sign at the entrance, elegant cursive letters read, "Happy Birthday to My Sweetheart." It was signed, "With love, your Mom and Dad." I stared at those words, finding them painfully glaring. I took out my phone and sent Suzy a message. "I'm here to see your so-called surprise." Then I took a deep breath and stepped inside in my leather shoes. Inside the banquet hall, glasses clinked, and laughter filled the air. My parents stood in the middle of the crowd, smiling warmly as they entertained the guests. Beside them stood a boy dressed in a blue formal suit. That was Benjamin. He looked like a proud peacock, basking in everyone's attention and well-wishes. Mom personally placed an exquisite diamond crown on his head and said gently, "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince." Dad handed him a velvet box containing a dazzling diamond watch. "Do you like it? I had it custom-made just for you." Benjamin smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. You are so good to me." The guests around them gasped in admiration. "Oliver, I can't believe how well you're treating your godson. You're doting on him more than your own son!" "Exactly. With generosity like this, we can't even compare." "Oliver, he's only a godson, and you're already treating him like this. If it were your own son's birthday, you'd probably pluck the stars from the sky!" My parents laughed heartily. They waved their hands repeatedly and said, "It's the least we could do." No one noticed me standing in the corner. I held up my phone and recorded the scene clearly. Then, I straightened my suit, picked up a glass of champagne, and slowly walked toward them. The surrounding noise seemed to fade away. All I could see was that harmonious "family of three". Mom raised her glass and announced to the guests, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate our sweetheart's birthday today—" "Your sweetheart?" I asked. Chapter 3 I repeated Mom's words in an icy tone. The smiles on my parents' faces vanished instantly. Mom reacted faster. She stepped forward and reached for my hand, but I turned aside and avoided her. "Chris, why are you here?" she asked. Her voice trembled. "Come here, let me introduce you. This is—" I cut her off, fixing my gaze squarely on Benjamin. "This is Benjamin Smith, your sweetheart, right?" The smile faded from Benjamin's face as well. He looked at me, visibly at a loss. A flicker of sympathy passed through his eyes before he turned to my parents for help. "Who is this?" a guest asked. Dad's face darkened completely. He lowered his voice and snapped, "Christopher Blake! Stop causing trouble here and go home!" "Causing trouble?" I laughed coldly. "Dad, did you forget what day it is? Today is also your own son's birthday—mine." I spoke every word clearly. Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd. Everyone's eyes shifted back and forth between my parents and me, filled with curiosity and gossip. "So he's the real son… Then—" "Unbelievable. How can they ignore their own son's birthday and throw such a massive party for an outsider?" "What's Mr. Blake thinking? I honestly don't understand it." As the murmurs reached my parents, their expressions darkened. Mom's lips trembled. Dad's eyes went from panicked to furious. "That's enough!" Dad slammed his hand on the table. "Did you really have to ruin everything today?" "Ruin everything?" I raised my phone and clicked on a video. "Mom, who's really ruining everything? Who's the one who's preparing a surprise for me while putting a crown on someone else and giving him a watch?" On the screen, the footage clearly showed Mom gently placing the crown on Benjamin's head. "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince," she said. Those words echoed through the silent banquet hall from the phone's speaker. All the color drained from Mom's face. I switched to the group photo. "And this—how did the son of your so-called important client become your sweetheart?" I turned the screen toward the crowd so everyone could see the photo and the comments beneath it. The guests' faces contorted with surprise, judgment, and disbelief. Dad trembled with rage. He jabbed a finger at me wordlessly. "Christopher Blake, y-you—" "What?" I asked. I met his gaze. My eyes were welling up, but my voice stayed cold. "I just want to ask you this in person. Does having a new son feel so much better than having me? What did I do to deserve being humiliated and cast aside like this?" My voice grew louder, echoing the ten years of anguish I suffered. Benjamin's face turned pale. He tugged at Mom's sleeve and whispered, "Mrs. Blake, this—" Mom yanked her hand away from him. She looked at me with eyes full of regret. "Chris, it's not what you think. It's really not what you think!" "Then, what is it?" I demanded. "Come on, say it!" At that moment, the doors of the banquet hall were pushed open. Suzy rushed in. When she saw the tense standoff, her face went pale. She ran up to me and gripped my arm tightly. Her voice was shaking. "Christopher, listen to my explanation!" "Enough! I don't want to hear any more explanations from you!" I shouted. I struggled to break free from her. I had already achieved my purpose today. I wanted everyone to see the true faces of my so-called model parents, letting the carefully crafted image they had spent years building fall apart today. I raised my phone high, ready to project the group chat screenshots onto the big screen. "Mom, Dad, this show is over!" Just as I was about to press the projection button, Suzy snatched my phone and clutched it tightly to her chest. "Christopher! Please! Just wait five more minutes!" Her eyes were red, and her voice was filled with desperation.
Mom accidentally adds me into a group chat called "Happy Family". In the group chat, I saw Mom, Dad, and a stranger who's nicknamed "sweetheart". They are in the middle of organizing a birthday party for him. However, the thing is, tomorrow will be my birthday, which they have forgotten for the tenth time in a row. Mom says, "The venue must be dreamy. I want him to feel like an actual prince." Dad transfers a huge sum of money to "sweetheart". "Money is no problem! Just don't let Christopher find out about this. It'll screw things up for us!" I quietly take screenshots of everything, planning to find a chance to expose my parents' true colors and end everything with them once and for all. At that moment, my younger sister, who's always been great at her studies, sends me a screenshot via our private chat. It's a screenshot of the chat history between her and Mom. "Mom, have you made preparations for Christopher's surprise party yet? You promised me that this is the last time you'd lie to him!" Chapter 1 I stared at the screenshots my sister, Suzy Blake, had sent me, and my heart sank. A surprise? The last time they would ever lie to me? That explained so much. Every year on my birthday, my parents would brush me off with all sorts of excuses. "Chris, something urgent came up at work," Mom once said. "Chris, I've got a meeting with a friend about business. Order some takeout for yourself," Dad once said. This year, they didn't even bother with excuses. They had simply replaced me with someone else. I tossed my phone aside. My chest felt as if something heavy had lodged itself there. Another message from Suzy popped up. "Christopher, don't overthink it. Mom and Dad just—" I replied with just two words. "Got it." Overthink it? How could I not overthink it? The facts were right in front of me. That birthday party for their "sweetheart" was the so-called surprise they had lied to me about. As their biological son, I was nothing more than a backdrop for another boy's happiness. I heard Mom's hushed voice from the living room as she spoke on the phone. "Right, we'll go with blue balloons, the biggest and brightest ones. Ben loves blue the most, so it has to be perfect for him." Ben. Listening closely to their conversation, I pieced together the boy's full name—Benjamin Smith. I picked up my phone and searched for the name on social media. Soon, a boy with a polished profile picture appeared. His highlighted stories were filled with glamorous photos of him traveling around the world. His most recent post was a photo of him with my parents, taken in my living room. In the photo, Mom and Dad's smiles were warm and loving. Mom's arm rested affectionately on Benjamin's shoulder, while Dad stood beside him with eyes full of indulgence. It was an expression I had never once seen on their faces. The caption read, "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's party!" Mom left a comment underneath. "Silly child, there's no need to be so formal with us." Meanwhile, Dad gave the post a like. What a perfect "family". I saved the photo along with the group chat screenshots and stored them in my encrypted album. These would be the "surprises" I planned to give them tomorrow. At dinner, Mom made soup and served me a bowl with exaggerated attentiveness. "Chris, try it. I made this especially for you," she said. I looked at the greasy chicken soup. My throat tightened as a wave of nausea surged up. "Is this supposed to liven up Benjamin's birthday party?" I asked lightly. The smile on Mom's face froze. She glanced at Dad, and his expression darkened immediately. "What nonsense are you talking about? Benjamin?" he replied. "Oh? Looks like you forget things easily, Dad." I took out my phone and opened the photo. "Isn't this boy your so-called sweetheart?" Dad's face turned ashen in an instant. Mom rushed to smooth things over. "Chris, you misunderstood. He's the son of an important client of mine. We're just helping to organize his birthday party." "A client's son?" I sneered. "Is he important enough to have a whole group chat, to be tagged as 'sweetheart', and to even receive a large money transfer? Is he important enough to make you ignore your own son's birthday entirely?" In an instant, the living room fell silent except for the sound of breathing. Suzy rushed out of her room and grabbed my arm. "Christopher, let's not get carried away." I shook her off. "What? Are you going to help Mom and Dad lie to me too?" Suzy's face turned pale. Her lips moved, but not a single word came out. … The next day, on my birthday, the house was empty. A hundred dollars and a note were left on the table. The note was in Mom's handwriting. "Chris, the money is on the table. Buy yourself something good to eat." Chapter 2 My parents had treated me with the same indifference for ten years. Even the amount of money they gave me had never changed. I crumpled the bill into a tight ball and tossed it into the trash. After last night ended badly, they stopped pretending altogether. I heard Mom talking on the phone in her room. Her voice was brimming with excitement. "The venue is already set up. It looks just like a fairy tale!" Dad was giving instructions on the balcony. "Bring the bottle of '82 Lafite. We have to make sure Ben enjoys himself today." All the while, I drifted through the house like a ghost. Suzy left early that morning. Before she went, she glanced at me with a complicated look. "Christopher, no matter what you see, trust me." Trust her? Trust that she was part of this deception too? I let out a cold laugh and said nothing. Around noon, a delivery truck stopped downstairs. Two workers unloaded an enormous gift box tied with an exaggerated blue bow. I stood by the window and watched. It turned out that, to them, I didn't even deserve a gift. Mom hurried downstairs, smiling from ear to ear as she signed for the delivery. She directed the workers with extreme care, afraid it might get damaged. I recognized the logo. It was a limited edition piano released just last month, priced well into six figures. Meanwhile, my old piano, which I had used for ten years, had yellowed keys and was out of tune. I had hinted at it to Mom before, but she always replied, "If it still works, keep using it. The household expenses are heavy." It turned out that the expenses were not the problem. I simply wasn't worth it. The last trace of hope in my heart was completely extinguished. That afternoon, I changed into a black suit. I neatly styled my hair and adjusted my appearance to conceal the exhaustion in my eyes. I couldn't let them see me in such a disheveled state. I would draw a clear line between us with my head held high. I had overheard the address for the party during Mom's phone call the night before. They had reserved the most prestigious banquet hall in the city. I took a cab there. Along the way, the driver kept marveling at the impending event. "Young man, what big occasion is it today? The road ahead is blocked. I heard that some rich family is throwing a birthday party for their son, and it's incredibly extravagant." I forced a faint smile and said nothing. Yes, the party was grand—so grand that it was built on ten years of my grievances. A long red carpet stretched across the entrance of the hall, flanked by rows of blue rose arrangements. On the welcome sign at the entrance, elegant cursive letters read, "Happy Birthday to My Sweetheart." It was signed, "With love, your Mom and Dad." I stared at those words, finding them painfully glaring. I took out my phone and sent Suzy a message. "I'm here to see your so-called surprise." Then I took a deep breath and stepped inside in my leather shoes. Inside the banquet hall, glasses clinked, and laughter filled the air. My parents stood in the middle of the crowd, smiling warmly as they entertained the guests. Beside them stood a boy dressed in a blue formal suit. That was Benjamin. He looked like a proud peacock, basking in everyone's attention and well-wishes. Mom personally placed an exquisite diamond crown on his head and said gently, "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince." Dad handed him a velvet box containing a dazzling diamond watch. "Do you like it? I had it custom-made just for you." Benjamin smiled sweetly. "Thank you, Mr. Blake and Mrs. Blake. You are so good to me." The guests around them gasped in admiration. "Oliver, I can't believe how well you're treating your godson. You're doting on him more than your own son!" "Exactly. With generosity like this, we can't even compare." "Oliver, he's only a godson, and you're already treating him like this. If it were your own son's birthday, you'd probably pluck the stars from the sky!" My parents laughed heartily. They waved their hands repeatedly and said, "It's the least we could do." No one noticed me standing in the corner. I held up my phone and recorded the scene clearly. Then, I straightened my suit, picked up a glass of champagne, and slowly walked toward them. The surrounding noise seemed to fade away. All I could see was that harmonious "family of three". Mom raised her glass and announced to the guests, "Thank you all for coming to celebrate our sweetheart's birthday today—" "Your sweetheart?" I asked. Chapter 3 I repeated Mom's words in an icy tone. The smiles on my parents' faces vanished instantly. Mom reacted faster. She stepped forward and reached for my hand, but I turned aside and avoided her. "Chris, why are you here?" she asked. Her voice trembled. "Come here, let me introduce you. This is—" I cut her off, fixing my gaze squarely on Benjamin. "This is Benjamin Smith, your sweetheart, right?" The smile faded from Benjamin's face as well. He looked at me, visibly at a loss. A flicker of sympathy passed through his eyes before he turned to my parents for help. "Who is this?" a guest asked. Dad's face darkened completely. He lowered his voice and snapped, "Christopher Blake! Stop causing trouble here and go home!" "Causing trouble?" I laughed coldly. "Dad, did you forget what day it is? Today is also your own son's birthday—mine." I spoke every word clearly. Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd. Everyone's eyes shifted back and forth between my parents and me, filled with curiosity and gossip. "So he's the real son… Then—" "Unbelievable. How can they ignore their own son's birthday and throw such a massive party for an outsider?" "What's Mr. Blake thinking? I honestly don't understand it." As the murmurs reached my parents, their expressions darkened. Mom's lips trembled. Dad's eyes went from panicked to furious. "That's enough!" Dad slammed his hand on the table. "Did you really have to ruin everything today?" "Ruin everything?" I raised my phone and clicked on a video. "Mom, who's really ruining everything? Who's the one who's preparing a surprise for me while putting a crown on someone else and giving him a watch?" On the screen, the footage clearly showed Mom gently placing the crown on Benjamin's head. "Ben, today you're our most precious little prince," she said. Those words echoed through the silent banquet hall from the phone's speaker. All the color drained from Mom's face. I switched to the group photo. "And this—how did the son of your so-called important client become your sweetheart?" I turned the screen toward the crowd so everyone could see the photo and the comments beneath it. The guests' faces contorted with surprise, judgment, and disbelief. Dad trembled with rage. He jabbed a finger at me wordlessly. "Christopher Blake, y-you—" "What?" I asked. I met his gaze. My eyes were welling up, but my voice stayed cold. "I just want to ask you this in person. Does having a new son feel so much better than having me? What did I do to deserve being humiliated and cast aside like this?" My voice grew louder, echoing the ten years of anguish I suffered. Benjamin's face turned pale. He tugged at Mom's sleeve and whispered, "Mrs. Blake, this—" Mom yanked her hand away from him. She looked at me with eyes full of regret. "Chris, it's not what you think. It's really not what you think!" "Then, what is it?" I demanded. "Come on, say it!" At that moment, the doors of the banquet hall were pushed open. Suzy rushed in. When she saw the tense standoff, her face went pale. She ran up to me and gripped my arm tightly. Her voice was shaking. "Christopher, listen to my explanation!" "Enough! I don't want to hear any more explanations from you!" I shouted. I struggled to break free from her. I had already achieved my purpose today. I wanted everyone to see the true faces of my so-called model parents, letting the carefully crafted image they had spent years building fall apart today. I raised my phone high, ready to project the group chat screenshots onto the big screen. "Mom, Dad, this show is over!" Just as I was about to press the projection button, Suzy snatched my phone and clutched it tightly to her chest. "Christopher! Please! Just wait five more minutes!" Her eyes were red, and her voice was filled with desperation.
🏙️ After years in foster care, Nova finally escapes to New York with one dream: a life she can call her own. By pure chance, she ends up in a whirlwind marriage with Dante—a quiet logistics driver who seems completely ordinary. 💍 Together, they build a small, peaceful life. A tiny apartment. Late-night takeout. Big dreams. ❤️ But Nova has fought too hard to lose everything again. 💼 She works day and night to protect the home they built. 🚨 And when danger threatens the life she loves, she’ll do anything to keep it. The only problem? Dante may not be the ordinary man she thinks he is… 👀 👉 Watch how one accidental marriage changes everything on AnyReel.
Harry Jones is my step-dad. Since I was eight years old, he has used me as a punching bag. At school, the nightmare continued. "Maybe I am finally done with your stupidity," I snapped at Sarah, but Dana raised her open palm to slap me."Always have to protect your fat friend, don't you, Megan," Sarah spat. What I didn't know was that Daniel "Carnage" Phillips had been watching. "I think something is going on with Olivia," he told his best friend Mike. Katie noticed it too. "Gold. His eyes and her eyes are nearly identical in color," she said. "He has a birthmark on his lower back, just above his hip." Carnage secretly obtained DNA samples. The results confirmed everything—Gold was my biological father. The man my mother claimed was a one-night stand she didn't even remember was actually a Phoenix Knight. I'd been living in inferno, beaten and broken, while my real father rode free—never knowing I existed, never searching, never saving me. One month until I turned eighteen. One month until I could leave. But now? I was biker royalty born into violence, abandoned by blood, and destroyed by the man who stole my mother's love and my childhood. ———————— Olivia's POV- My eyes fluttered open slowly. I was still in a huge amount of pain this morning. A groan slipped from my lips, as my senses came too from my slumber. The sound of birds and the roar of bikes snapped me out of the daze I was in from just waking up. My eyes snapped open, and I looked around to make sure no one had seen me sleeping in my truck. That would have been embarrassing and probably the talk of the school. God, school. I grabbed my phone in a panic, I had to hurry to turn it back on. I checked the time even as it loaded up. Thankfully, I still had time before I needed to get to school. I turned to reach into the back to grab my duffle bag off the back seats, which was a bad idea. Pain radiated up my left side, making me cry out sharply. I relaxed carefully back into my driver's seat. Harry really did a number on me last night, before I ran from the house. Harry Jones is my step-dad. He has raised me since birth, so I currently have his last name, but he never earned the right to ever be called my dad. Why? Because since I was eight years old, he has used me as a punching bag. Last night was the worst I had seen Harry. He lost a big business deal, and he lashed out, taking it out on me. I know at least one of my ribs is broken, and I know my face and neck are littered with bruising. I arrived at my locker, with Benny and Megan. I opened my locker, and went to lift my bag into the locker. But a sharp shooting pain spread up my left side. I gritted my teeth and tried to push through the pain. It became too much, and I had to drop my bag. Benny caught it and whispered, "It is okay, I will put it in there for you." It was nice that he did that, and that he didn'at say anything further. I can see that he is trying to help without letting anyone hear or see why I need help. Megan was digging around in her bag and handed me some painkillers. "Take them, and try to eat something." I am very glad that I have them both here, watching over me. After the worst beating Harry ever gave me, I can say that I am very glad that I have them standing beside me. Rather than them being angry at me hiding this for so long, they have been nothing but supportive so far. At least I have them. We headed straight for the table that we usually sit on. Megan and Benny sat next to each other, and I sat next to Megan. There was an empty seat next to me, and while I was turned chatting to Megan and Benny, someone came and sat next to me. I didn't need to look at who it was, I could smell his cologne mixed with leather and ci-garette smoke. The wide-eyed expressions from Megan and Benny gave it away as well. I slowly turned to look at who had sat next to me, and there he was pulling his notebook out of his backpack and placing it on the table. Carnage. Carnage was actually going to join us. He has never done that before, ever. He always sat with Mike. Mike was shooting confused, curious and angry looks this way. It was like he couldn't understand what was going on. Me, I just kept staring at Carnage, confused. He has never sat next to me before, so why now? "If you keep staring at me like that, you are going to make everyone think that you like me, which I wouldn't mind, because I like you," Carnage said, slowly turning to look at me. My lips parted in shock, as I stared into the cobalt blue eyes in front of me. God, they were so captivating. Did I hear him right, or was I imagining things? He wouldn't like someone like me, he couldn't... ... Daniel's POV- I smiled watching Olivia's cheeks turn slightly pink color, I think that she would have been bright red if she wasn't wearing all that make-up. I wanted to see just how innocent she was, especially after what she had said. After what had happened in the corridor, seeing her stand up for herself finally, made me all sorts of messed up. She crushed Sarah with her intellect. Blocked a strike from Dana, and shoved her away. The remark she made about her step-father was also interesting. The fact that she stated that Sarah probably wouldn't last five minutes against her stepfather, made me wonder whether he was violent. When Olivia lifted her sweater to show her abdomen, just to show how slender she was. I wanted to rip her towards me and smooch her hard, show she was taken, especially after how some of the other guys in the corridor looked at her. It made me angry, possessive. When I saw the way nt I sat next to Olivia, she started staring. I knew she was trying to figure out why I sat next to her. I never had before, so I told her that I liked her. "Say something, or I will shout that I like you and no one is to touch you," I smirked. She remained frozen. I opened my mouth to shout it, but her hand shot up clamping over my mouth, I faintly heard the sound of a pen dropping to the floor. I couldn't hide my amusement that she had done that. Her eyes went wide when she saw what she had done, and pulled her hand away. She tried to glare at me and said, "You are only saying that because you want my cherry." Well, I can't deny that she is partially right. I want to be all her firsts and her last, her only. I watched her look down, as the pen she had dropped. She bent to pick it up, and that was when I saw the marks on her neck, mostly concealed by her turtle-neck sweater. They looked like fingerprint bruises from being strangled. It made me angry to see her hurt, but this was not the time nor the place for me to bring it up. When she had sat back up straight and met my gaze, I said, "You are partially right. But it is true that I like you. So, I want to be all your firsts, your last, your only." I watched at her cheeks flush pink a little. "Can I have your number?" She nodded, and pulled out her phone. She showed me her number, and while I was typing it into my phone, she got a message notification from Harry. I am pretty certain that the message was cussing her out and demanding she come home tonight, or he would hunt her down. "I have got it. Let's put your name down as Olivia, in brackets my Queen. By the way, who is Harry? I just saw a notification with his name flash up on the screen is all," I said. "Oh," she gasped, turning her phone screen to look at her, where she then drained of color. She had literally been blushing mere seconds ago, when I had said that I had typed in brackets my Queen. It is what I want her to be, not that she would believe it right now. She cleared her throat, and said, "He is my stepfather, and a jerk." I placed my hand on the center of her back, as I asked, "Are you okay? You have become really pale?" The moment I rested my hand on her back, I felt it, even through the baggy sweater and top she was wearing underneath. Bandages, wrapped around her ribs. I was familiar with that feeling all too well when I had to support fellow brothers through the clubhouse to the clinic, due to the injuries they sustained during club business or during a fight. She moved away from my touch, slowly, like she was torn between staying or moving as far away as she could. I noticed her jaw clenched as she gritted her teeth, probably to fight through whatever pain she was in. She put her phone away, and returned to focusing on what we had to do for the assignment. We arranged a time to meet up and complete the assignment together. Just as quickly as it started, class came to an end. Olivia was very quick to tell her friends that she was going to the bathroom and headed off. I left the class to follow Olivia, but I ran into Katie. She was grinning from ear to ear. The mischievous grin that she always had when she did something, none of us would ever think she would be able to do. "What did you do?" I asked, as she pulled me over to the other side of the corridor away from too many ears. "So, Olivia is going to her locker right now, and then I am going into the bathroom in a second, but you should know that I may or may not have broken into her locker, and stolen a few things," she replied. My eyes widened as she spoke. I was shocked that she could do it, though it shouldn't have surprised me. "What did you take?" I hissed. "I pulled a large amount of hair from her hairbrush, found a bloody rag, like she had, had a nose bleed or something. I have them in a ziplock bag in my bag. Anything I should know about," Katie said. "I think she has bandages around her ribs, that is what it felt like to me. She also has finger-shaped bruising on her neck. That is probably why she is wearing that turtle-neck sweater," I told her, quietly. Katie nodded, "I will go hide in the bathroom, before she gets in there." "Let me know what you see," I said. Katie nodded, "I will." As she ran off, Mike walked over to me with Phoenix and Devil. Mike growled lowly, "What is going on with you?" "The short answer is Katie helped me figure something out about Olivia, and we are investigating it," I replied. "Why are you so hooked on Olivia?" Mike asked. I sighed, "Even Devil figured it out and how come you can't?" "Figure what out?" "It's because he has never experienced feelings like what I have for Phoenix or you have for Olivia," Devil interjected. Realization dawned on his face, as he whispered, "You like Olivia?" I nodded, whispering, "And, I think she is being abused by her stepfather. There is also a possibility she might be related to a ranked brother." The moment I mentioned abuse, their postures stiffened, as with all us Knights, our instincts to protect kicked in. But when I mentioned that she might be related to a ranked brother, their heads whipped towards me in shock. "Who?" they all asked. "Gold," I whispered.
This was just a one night stand. Even if it was for just one night, I was going to enjoy every moment of it. And for the first time in three months Jeff's face was not the one I dreamed of. I did something I never did. I trusted this complete stranger to take care of me. ******** Sitting alone in a bar, throwing back shots of Jack was not how I pictured my Saturday night. I had managed to wedge myself into a corner of the patio bar shielded by the drop door that led to the bartender's area. My intentions were to get drunk then make myself available to the first guy who could show me a good time with no strings attached. I was in a three-month slump and was ready to come out of hiding. My ego had recently been crushed by my previous boyfriend who, I thought, was in love with me, not that the feeling was mutual, but I thought it ensured his devotion to only me. He had a perfect body, a good job, a fast car, and he was a machine in the bedroom. Come to find out, I was not the only woman under his spell. Catching that skanky girl from Arby's in his bed, wearing nothing but a smile informed me of everything I needed to know. I was replaceable. Being replaced by a five when you are nothing short of a ten can do some major damage to a girl like me. I'm used to getting what I want. Being five foot four with a body most people only dream of can get you a lot when it comes to men. Not to mention my long, silky brown locks, my perfect teeth, and a smile that would make the devil himself bow down. But all of the charm, looks, and money were not enough for Jeff. No, he had to go destroy it with a fast food worker who drove a Honda. So, for the past three months, I have been sulking, crying, feeling sorry for myself, and praying that a damsel-in-distress moment would come along so Jeff would feel the need to come running to protect and take care of me. It didn't happen. This was the real world, and Jeff was a prick, and I had stooped low enough to come to The Country Tavern to get laid by some lucky man. The urge to pee hit me, and I was grateful for the change of scenery as I motioned to the bartender that I would be back and I came out of hiding. The bar had filled up, and the shots had definitely caught up to me. I put on my seductive face and made my way to the restrooms inside the bar. Passing the pool tables and the main bar, I scanned the crowd to look for any potentials, but none of these faces could compare to Jeff's. Scolding myself, I went into the bathroom and did my business. On my way out, I paused and looked in the mirror at the lovely creature standing before me. "You can do this Dallas," I told myself. I straightened my black Dior minidress, pushed my long soft curls to the front of my shoulders so they fell over my breasts, and flashed myself a smile before sauntering out of the bathroom to accomplish my goal. I headed back to the patio bar only to find my corner taken by a bunch of bikers. Great. Just great. I pushed my way past them, ignoring the lewd comments, and asked the bartender for a Jack and Sprite. He gave me a small apologetic smile. "This one is on me gorgeous," he said as he passed over my drink. "Thanks," I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Turning to face the crowd, I realized my chances of getting laid were slim to none if I continued to be surrounded by intimidating bikers, so I strolled over to the opposite side of the bar. "Hello ma'am." I turned to see the face of an attractive male sporting a cowboy hat and Wranglers that did amazing things for his package. "Well hello yourself," I replied with my best smile. "I must say that you have to be the prettiest thing I’ve seen in here all night," he said with a southern drawl that had me smiling even wider. "I was wondering if anyone would notice, or if I was just going to have to drink alone tonight." I could tell he was taking in the sight of my perky D cups as he took my drink, sat it on the bar, and grabbed my hand to lead me onto the dance floor. Dancing with a cowboy does something to a girl. Maybe it’s the way they hold you, or the way you feel respected and appreciated. Whatever that feeling is that you get, I didn't have it. This apparently was not a real cowboy. He was offbeat, and had hands that wandered over everything other than my waist. "Whoa, cowboy," I said as we both nearly tripped over several strayed bar stools. What was up with this guy? "Whoa, cowboy," I said as we both nearly tripped over several strayed bar stools. What was up with this guy? "What’s the matter baby? You don't like my dancing?" He was laughing at someone over my shoulder. I turned to see a group of guys motioning for him to slap my hip and acting like a bunch of drunken frat boys, who they probably were. Now, there are several things that really piss me off, but at the top of the list is being the butt of a joke. Who did they think they were? I pushed the prick posing as a cowboy harshly – he didn’t even budge. "Hang on baby the song ain't even over," he said, moving his hand over my hip. "Oh, it’s over. Get your hands off of me." Angrily, I pushed him again, only to be rewarded with an slap. That did it. "Get your hands off of me!" I yelled, pushing his shoulders as hard as I could. Three things happened next. One: I was flat on my hip, seeing stars as my head bounced off the wooden deck. Two: The massive creature that landed on top of me was being dragged out the side door, along with his friends, by guys in leather vests with reapers on the back. Three: I was looking into the bluest eyes I had ever seen, and they belonged to a face that instantly had my panties wet. "You ok, babe?" asked a voice that sounded like it belonged to a movie star. I closed my eyes, trying to ease the pounding in my head and gather my thoughts. What happened? Who is this beautiful creature leaning over me? Had my damsel in distress moment finally arrived? Was my dress over my waist, showing my goodies to everyone in the bar? Strong arms grabbed me and hauled me to my feet. Without even opening my eyes, I knew by the feel of his shoulders he had the sexiest arms that had ever held me. I opened my eyes and nearly gasped. He was perfect. His hair was dirty blonde and cut short. His chest was strong and big, and the white thermal he wore, even under a leather vest, defined his muscles all the way down to his waist. His jeans were slightly torn giving me a view of his leg that let me know this guy worked out -- hard. My gaze slowly moved back up his body, stopping momentarily on his crotch, making me have thoughts of him in my mouth. My eyes finally made it to his face. That face. Strong jaw-line, light blonde stubble, lips that screamed "peck me," and eyes that were the color of the ocean. "You like what you see?" he asked while adjusting my dress and keeping a firm hold on my waist. His hands on my body had me clenching my legs together trying to find a release for my aching center. He asked me a question. What was it again? "I'm fine." I replied all breathy like some kind of teenager getting ready to screw the high school quarter back. Get you together, Dallas. His face held a smirk as his eyes laughed at me, taunting me. He was hot in leather, and I didn't care if the way I looked at him made me look like a complete fool, or if he was getting pleasure out of me looking at him like I could take him right here in the bar. "Well I can see that, but how is your head feeling?" he asked still smirking at me. I managed to find my voice. Fueled by too much beverage, a bad night, and the fact that I would be going home alone, again. I responded, "Its fine. Thanks for your help, but I believe I can manage from now own without the help of you and your goon squad." I looked around to see a few standing guard behind him, but the rest had disappeared. Thankfully, the crowd had gotten over the drama and was back to drinking and having a good time ignoring us completely. Surprising me, he laughed. He had a great laugh. "I'm glad you are feeling better. My goon squad and I will be at the bar if you need anything. Don't worry, your boyfriend still has a few teeth left and I'm sure tomorrow morning he will be calling begging for your forgiveness." "He's not my boyfriend." Why was I getting so defensive? “Could have fooled me, or do you normally let strangers fondle you in public? If so, maybe me and my goon squad, as you call them, can get in on the action." He was laughing at me. "For your information, I did not allow him to do anything. I asked him to stop several times. If I had plans to get fondled tonight by someone, he would definitely not live up to my standards." Liar. "So, do I live up to your standards? Miss?" "Dallas, my name is Dallas, and no, you do not. Biker trash isn't on my to do list tonight." "Dallas, what an interesting name you have. And I could have sworn the way you were looking at me all "sleep with me" like, that I was most definitely on your “to do” list, as you say." I was at a loss for words. Probably because his hands were still securely on each side of my waist and the throbbing between my legs had only intensified over the past few minutes. Instead of coming back with a comment that would leave him shocked and wanting more, I did something I never do. I walked away. Well, I tried to walk away. I removed his hands, which let go of me easily causing disappointment to my groin area, and turned around to see the floor coming up to my face before those big strong arms were around me again. "Slow down babe. I think you might have a mild concussion." That’s all it took. I was putty in his arms. I had prayed for a damsel-in-distress moment, and God had given it to me. It wasn't Jeff, but it was something so much better. Who cares that he rode a motorcycle, and was probably working as a mechanic while out on parole? I came here for something and I was going to get it, and if this biker bad boy wanted to give it to me I would gladly take it and regret it tomorrow. The pounding in my head was loud. And hurt -- a lot. Mixed with laughter and loud music, it was too much. "I think I need some fresh air," I said barely audible. Somehow, my knight in shining leather heard me, and led me out the same door he had tossed the guys out of only minutes before. I silently prayed they were gone. No such luck. "There’s that man!" I looked up to find us surrounded by all six of them. The cowboy was leaning on the tailgate of a truck holding a shirt soaked in blood to his mouth. Panic filled me, and I started to shudder. "Don't worry babe, having a goon squad has its perks," he said smiling without a hint of worry on his face. "How about you sit here?" he said calmly, leading me back inside to a chair behind the karaoke stage. "I'll be right back. Don't move." He winked to the red headed girl running karaoke and she gave him a knowing nod. What was that about? I watched him walk back outside and found myself worrying over a man whose name I didn't even know. "Would you like a drink?" the tall red headed girl asked. She wore a bright yellow t-shirt with Queen of Karaoke inscribed on the front. Her hair was long and straight and she had big brown eyes lined in black eye liner. I couldn’t help but wonder if her long lashes were real or not. I started to ask her when she spoke. "I'm Red, how about I get you some water and aspirin. It will probably help that headache I'm sure you have. You took a nasty fall." "Thanks that would be great." I couldn't keep my hands from shaking. I kept glancing at the door hoping he would walk back through it, unharmed. "Here ya go." Red handed me the two pills and a cup of ice water. "Luke is a really great guy. If you break his heart, I'll kick you." she said matter of fact. And I believed her. She didn't look like the type you would want to piss off or the type that would tell you a lie just because it sounded good. "Come on, babe. Let’s get you somewhere a little quieter." Luke opened the door and led me out into the fresh air. The guys were gone. No sign of the goon squad either. Had they just disappeared into thin air? Knowing I should stop this charade now and head home, I turned to tell Luke I was leaving when he suddenly picked me up, and carried me across the parking lot. I didn't protest. I could feel his muscles flexing against my side. The smell of him even clouded by smoke was so intoxicating I found myself leaning into him and inhaling his scent. He smiled down at me but didn't say anything. Thank God. I was already blushing from being caught. One smart remark would have been enough to ruin my night. Hadn't I embarrassed myself enough? We came upon a white Ford F-250, and he opened the passenger side door and sat me in. I noticed he did not even put me down to open the door. Was it because he didn't want to let go of me? Not that it mattered, this was just a one night stand. He took off his leather vest that was covered in patches, and climbed into the driver seat. "We have about a thirty minute drive ahead of us. You’re welcome to lay your head in my lap and take a nap. I don't think you’re supposed to sleep with a concussion, but I don't see what staying awake will do for you." I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to tell him to peck my body. I was not laying my head in his lap. I wanted to tell him that I had not agreed to go anywhere with him, and to take me back to my car. But surprising myself for the second time tonight, I did something I never do. I trusted this complete stranger to take care of me. My head was pounding so his offer was more than appealing. I scooted across the seat and laid my head in his lap. Closing my eyes, I tried to make sense of what I was doing but nothing made sense, so I stopped trying. I felt his hand brush the hair off the front of my face and run down my arm and back up again. It felt so good to be touched after so long. Even if it was for just one night I was going to enjoy every moment of it. I drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in three months Jeff's face was not the one I dreamed of. "Wake up darling." The endearment caused butterflies to form in my stomach even before I opened my eyes. "I'm gonna carry you inside, ok?" I was sure I could walk but not really wanting to-I nodded my head, and sat up trying to pull down my dress that had ridden up my hips. Clearly not doing a very good job of covering myself, Luke laughed softly reaching his hands up my legs to pull my dress back down. It felt so much better when he did it anyway. "There, now you’re all covered up and I can't see you," he said smiling at me and making my heart of stone melt. He scooped me into his arms and led me inside what I assumed was his house. We entered through the kitchen and he sat me on the counter. One of his hands held the back of my neck, while the other lifted my chin. We were so close I could feel his heart beating through his shirt. Suddenly his lips were on mine. His tongue invaded my mouth, pecking me harshly. The taste of him was overwhelming. The smell of him was intoxicating. I fell limp in his arms, allowing my hands to slowly explore all over his chest and arms. He deepened the peck, stroking his tongue over and over mine. Man, this guy knew how to peck. My body betrayed me by hardening through my shirt and the sheer pleasure I got from them rubbing against his chest made me moan into his mouth, causing him to peck at me harder. I could feel him hardening through his worn jeans. "I want you.” He said, in a yearning voice.
This was just a one night stand. Even if it was for just one night, I was going to enjoy every moment of it. And for the first time in three months Jeff's face was not the one I dreamed of. I did something I never did. I trusted this complete stranger to take care of me. ******** Sitting alone in a bar, throwing back shots of Jack was not how I pictured my Saturday night. I had managed to wedge myself into a corner of the patio bar shielded by the drop door that led to the bartender's area. My intentions were to get drunk then make myself available to the first guy who could show me a good time with no strings attached. I was in a three-month slump and was ready to come out of hiding. My ego had recently been crushed by my previous boyfriend who, I thought, was in love with me, not that the feeling was mutual, but I thought it ensured his devotion to only me. He had a perfect body, a good job, a fast car, and he was a machine in the bedroom. Come to find out, I was not the only woman under his spell. Catching that skanky girl from Arby's in his bed, wearing nothing but a smile informed me of everything I needed to know. I was replaceable. Being replaced by a five when you are nothing short of a ten can do some major damage to a girl like me. I'm used to getting what I want. Being five foot four with a body most people only dream of can get you a lot when it comes to men. Not to mention my long, silky brown locks, my perfect teeth, and a smile that would make the devil himself bow down. But all of the charm, looks, and money were not enough for Jeff. No, he had to go destroy it with a fast food worker who drove a Honda. So, for the past three months, I have been sulking, crying, feeling sorry for myself, and praying that a damsel-in-distress moment would come along so Jeff would feel the need to come running to protect and take care of me. It didn't happen. This was the real world, and Jeff was a prick, and I had stooped low enough to come to The Country Tavern to get laid by some lucky man. The urge to pee hit me, and I was grateful for the change of scenery as I motioned to the bartender that I would be back and I came out of hiding. The bar had filled up, and the shots had definitely caught up to me. I put on my seductive face and made my way to the restrooms inside the bar. Passing the pool tables and the main bar, I scanned the crowd to look for any potentials, but none of these faces could compare to Jeff's. Scolding myself, I went into the bathroom and did my business. On my way out, I paused and looked in the mirror at the lovely creature standing before me. "You can do this Dallas," I told myself. I straightened my black Dior minidress, pushed my long soft curls to the front of my shoulders so they fell over my breasts, and flashed myself a smile before sauntering out of the bathroom to accomplish my goal. I headed back to the patio bar only to find my corner taken by a bunch of bikers. Great. Just great. I pushed my way past them, ignoring the lewd comments, and asked the bartender for a Jack and Sprite. He gave me a small apologetic smile. "This one is on me gorgeous," he said as he passed over my drink. "Thanks," I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Turning to face the crowd, I realized my chances of getting laid were slim to none if I continued to be surrounded by intimidating bikers, so I strolled over to the opposite side of the bar. "Hello ma'am." I turned to see the face of an attractive male sporting a cowboy hat and Wranglers that did amazing things for his package. "Well hello yourself," I replied with my best smile. "I must say that you have to be the prettiest thing I’ve seen in here all night," he said with a southern drawl that had me smiling even wider. "I was wondering if anyone would notice, or if I was just going to have to drink alone tonight." I could tell he was taking in the sight of my perky D cups as he took my drink, sat it on the bar, and grabbed my hand to lead me onto the dance floor. Dancing with a cowboy does something to a girl. Maybe it’s the way they hold you, or the way you feel respected and appreciated. Whatever that feeling is that you get, I didn't have it. This apparently was not a real cowboy. He was offbeat, and had hands that wandered over everything other than my waist. "Whoa, cowboy," I said as we both nearly tripped over several strayed bar stools. What was up with this guy? "Whoa, cowboy," I said as we both nearly tripped over several strayed bar stools. What was up with this guy? "What’s the matter baby? You don't like my dancing?" He was laughing at someone over my shoulder. I turned to see a group of guys motioning for him to slap my hip and acting like a bunch of drunken frat boys, who they probably were. Now, there are several things that really piss me off, but at the top of the list is being the butt of a joke. Who did they think they were? I pushed the prick posing as a cowboy harshly – he didn’t even budge. "Hang on baby the song ain't even over," he said, moving his hand over my hip. "Oh, it’s over. Get your hands off of me." Angrily, I pushed him again, only to be rewarded with an slap. That did it. "Get your hands off of me!" I yelled, pushing his shoulders as hard as I could. Three things happened next. One: I was flat on my hip, seeing stars as my head bounced off the wooden deck. Two: The massive creature that landed on top of me was being dragged out the side door, along with his friends, by guys in leather vests with reapers on the back. Three: I was looking into the bluest eyes I had ever seen, and they belonged to a face that instantly had my panties wet. "You ok, babe?" asked a voice that sounded like it belonged to a movie star. I closed my eyes, trying to ease the pounding in my head and gather my thoughts. What happened? Who is this beautiful creature leaning over me? Had my damsel in distress moment finally arrived? Was my dress over my waist, showing my goodies to everyone in the bar? Strong arms grabbed me and hauled me to my feet. Without even opening my eyes, I knew by the feel of his shoulders he had the sexiest arms that had ever held me. I opened my eyes and nearly gasped. He was perfect. His hair was dirty blonde and cut short. His chest was strong and big, and the white thermal he wore, even under a leather vest, defined his muscles all the way down to his waist. His jeans were slightly torn giving me a view of his leg that let me know this guy worked out -- hard. My gaze slowly moved back up his body, stopping momentarily on his crotch, making me have thoughts of him in my mouth. My eyes finally made it to his face. That face. Strong jaw-line, light blonde stubble, lips that screamed "peck me," and eyes that were the color of the ocean. "You like what you see?" he asked while adjusting my dress and keeping a firm hold on my waist. His hands on my body had me clenching my legs together trying to find a release for my aching center. He asked me a question. What was it again? "I'm fine." I replied all breathy like some kind of teenager getting ready to screw the high school quarter back. Get you together, Dallas. His face held a smirk as his eyes laughed at me, taunting me. He was hot in leather, and I didn't care if the way I looked at him made me look like a complete fool, or if he was getting pleasure out of me looking at him like I could take him right here in the bar. "Well I can see that, but how is your head feeling?" he asked still smirking at me. I managed to find my voice. Fueled by too much beverage, a bad night, and the fact that I would be going home alone, again. I responded, "Its fine. Thanks for your help, but I believe I can manage from now own without the help of you and your goon squad." I looked around to see a few standing guard behind him, but the rest had disappeared. Thankfully, the crowd had gotten over the drama and was back to drinking and having a good time ignoring us completely. Surprising me, he laughed. He had a great laugh. "I'm glad you are feeling better. My goon squad and I will be at the bar if you need anything. Don't worry, your boyfriend still has a few teeth left and I'm sure tomorrow morning he will be calling begging for your forgiveness." "He's not my boyfriend." Why was I getting so defensive? “Could have fooled me, or do you normally let strangers fondle you in public? If so, maybe me and my goon squad, as you call them, can get in on the action." He was laughing at me. "For your information, I did not allow him to do anything. I asked him to stop several times. If I had plans to get fondled tonight by someone, he would definitely not live up to my standards." Liar. "So, do I live up to your standards? Miss?" "Dallas, my name is Dallas, and no, you do not. Biker trash isn't on my to do list tonight." "Dallas, what an interesting name you have. And I could have sworn the way you were looking at me all "sleep with me" like, that I was most definitely on your “to do” list, as you say." I was at a loss for words. Probably because his hands were still securely on each side of my waist and the throbbing between my legs had only intensified over the past few minutes. Instead of coming back with a comment that would leave him shocked and wanting more, I did something I never do. I walked away. Well, I tried to walk away. I removed his hands, which let go of me easily causing disappointment to my groin area, and turned around to see the floor coming up to my face before those big strong arms were around me again. "Slow down babe. I think you might have a mild concussion." That’s all it took. I was putty in his arms. I had prayed for a damsel-in-distress moment, and God had given it to me. It wasn't Jeff, but it was something so much better. Who cares that he rode a motorcycle, and was probably working as a mechanic while out on parole? I came here for something and I was going to get it, and if this biker bad boy wanted to give it to me I would gladly take it and regret it tomorrow. The pounding in my head was loud. And hurt -- a lot. Mixed with laughter and loud music, it was too much. "I think I need some fresh air," I said barely audible. Somehow, my knight in shining leather heard me, and led me out the same door he had tossed the guys out of only minutes before. I silently prayed they were gone. No such luck. "There’s that man!" I looked up to find us surrounded by all six of them. The cowboy was leaning on the tailgate of a truck holding a shirt soaked in blood to his mouth. Panic filled me, and I started to shudder. "Don't worry babe, having a goon squad has its perks," he said smiling without a hint of worry on his face. "How about you sit here?" he said calmly, leading me back inside to a chair behind the karaoke stage. "I'll be right back. Don't move." He winked to the red headed girl running karaoke and she gave him a knowing nod. What was that about? I watched him walk back outside and found myself worrying over a man whose name I didn't even know. "Would you like a drink?" the tall red headed girl asked. She wore a bright yellow t-shirt with Queen of Karaoke inscribed on the front. Her hair was long and straight and she had big brown eyes lined in black eye liner. I couldn’t help but wonder if her long lashes were real or not. I started to ask her when she spoke. "I'm Red, how about I get you some water and aspirin. It will probably help that headache I'm sure you have. You took a nasty fall." "Thanks that would be great." I couldn't keep my hands from shaking. I kept glancing at the door hoping he would walk back through it, unharmed. "Here ya go." Red handed me the two pills and a cup of ice water. "Luke is a really great guy. If you break his heart, I'll kick you." she said matter of fact. And I believed her. She didn't look like the type you would want to piss off or the type that would tell you a lie just because it sounded good. "Come on, babe. Let’s get you somewhere a little quieter." Luke opened the door and led me out into the fresh air. The guys were gone. No sign of the goon squad either. Had they just disappeared into thin air? Knowing I should stop this charade now and head home, I turned to tell Luke I was leaving when he suddenly picked me up, and carried me across the parking lot. I didn't protest. I could feel his muscles flexing against my side. The smell of him even clouded by smoke was so intoxicating I found myself leaning into him and inhaling his scent. He smiled down at me but didn't say anything. Thank God. I was already blushing from being caught. One smart remark would have been enough to ruin my night. Hadn't I embarrassed myself enough? We came upon a white Ford F-250, and he opened the passenger side door and sat me in. I noticed he did not even put me down to open the door. Was it because he didn't want to let go of me? Not that it mattered, this was just a one night stand. He took off his leather vest that was covered in patches, and climbed into the driver seat. "We have about a thirty minute drive ahead of us. You’re welcome to lay your head in my lap and take a nap. I don't think you’re supposed to sleep with a concussion, but I don't see what staying awake will do for you." I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to tell him to peck my body. I was not laying my head in his lap. I wanted to tell him that I had not agreed to go anywhere with him, and to take me back to my car. But surprising myself for the second time tonight, I did something I never do. I trusted this complete stranger to take care of me. My head was pounding so his offer was more than appealing. I scooted across the seat and laid my head in his lap. Closing my eyes, I tried to make sense of what I was doing but nothing made sense, so I stopped trying. I felt his hand brush the hair off the front of my face and run down my arm and back up again. It felt so good to be touched after so long. Even if it was for just one night I was going to enjoy every moment of it. I drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in three months Jeff's face was not the one I dreamed of. "Wake up darling." The endearment caused butterflies to form in my stomach even before I opened my eyes. "I'm gonna carry you inside, ok?" I was sure I could walk but not really wanting to-I nodded my head, and sat up trying to pull down my dress that had ridden up my hips. Clearly not doing a very good job of covering myself, Luke laughed softly reaching his hands up my legs to pull my dress back down. It felt so much better when he did it anyway. "There, now you’re all covered up and I can't see you," he said smiling at me and making my heart of stone melt. He scooped me into his arms and led me inside what I assumed was his house. We entered through the kitchen and he sat me on the counter. One of his hands held the back of my neck, while the other lifted my chin. We were so close I could feel his heart beating through his shirt. Suddenly his lips were on mine. His tongue invaded my mouth, pecking me harshly. The taste of him was overwhelming. The smell of him was intoxicating. I fell limp in his arms, allowing my hands to slowly explore all over his chest and arms. He deepened the peck, stroking his tongue over and over mine. Man, this guy knew how to peck. My body betrayed me by hardening through my shirt and the sheer pleasure I got from them rubbing against his chest made me moan into his mouth, causing him to peck at me harder. I could feel him hardening through his worn jeans. "I want you.” He said, in a yearning voice.
"Slow down or we're going to have an accident!" I screamed as my brother swerved around the semi, just as a biker crested the hill, heading straight for us. Then everything went black. When I wake up, I'm staring into the stormy eyes of Eagle, VP of the Soldiers of Retribution MC. My reckless brother fled the crash, leaving me to face the consequences. Now Eagle's demanding answers, his grip bruising my arm. "Give me the driver's name," he growls, but I can't betray my own brother, even if he abandoned me. Trapped in their clubhouse, I expect violence. Instead, I get something worse: a peck that sears my soul. Eagle's touch ignites a fire I can't control, even as his threats send chills down my spine. The Soldiers don't take betrayal lightly, and my loyalty to Ron might cost me everything—including my heart. ——————— Leona "Slow down or we're going to have an accident." My brother, Ron, was all over the road and getting on my last nerve. He was a reckless driver by choice, so I knew that my words were wasted, but someday he was going to regret not listening to me. "Relax, Sis." He swerved around another vehicle, which were far and few on the country road, and I clutched the dashboard to keep from being thrown against the door. "I've never had an accident." I rolled my eyes. Never say never, I wanted to tell him. "Yet," I stressed with a tight mouth. We were coming up fast on a semi, a rare sight on this road, and I held my breath, waiting for Ron's next move. It was a two-lane country road and there was a hill ahead of us. "What the heck are you doing?" I cried out when Ron pulled into the oncoming lane. I glared at him as if he were crazy, which he was. "Ron!" I screamed, panicked. "It's clear," he laughed my concern away. "I checked. See?" It was clear, and he accelerated to go around the semi. Just as we were even with the cab of the truck we were trying to pass, a motorcycle crested the hill, coming from the opposite direction, and headed straight for us. I let out a scream when I realized that our only course was to back off and move back behind the semi again. "Ron?" I said in a warning tone when it didn't appear that he was slowing down. "I got time!" I stared at the road ahead of us, my eyes rounding in fear as the motorcyclist got closer. "Ron!" This wasn't happening! "We're going to hit him!" Panic overwhelmed me as our window of making a life-saving decision narrowed. My gaze focused on the biker. I couldn't see his face because of his visor, but I got the sense that he was braking. Because of the speed he was going his bike wobbled slightly and I gasped, thinking that I was about to see him lose control. His options weren't great. "Ron..." My heart moved up into my throat. I was certain that I was about to see a man die, and in a horrible way. "God!" Ron cursed, finally realizing that he wasn't going to make it. He slammed on the brakes, allowing the semi to continue past us, but it was too late for the biker. Everything happened in a blur after that. Ron swore again. I screamed and braced myself. The motorcyclist veered off the road, losing control on the gravel shoulder and skidding into the wet grass. I turned in my seat to watch where he ended up, crying out when his bike slammed into a small tree. "Ohmygod! Stop the car!" I demanded as Ron continued down the road, along with the semi, each of them acting as if nothing had happened. "Ron, stop the car!" I grabbed at the door handle, fully prepared to exit the moving vehicle. "He could be hurt!" He could be dead! In sheer desperation I grabbed the wheel. Cursing beneath his breath, Ron swerved over to the shoulder, braking hard enough to send me slamming into the dash. He glared at me, I glared back, his mouth opening as if to say something. "Don't say a word, dumbhip!" I swore as I opened the door and jumped out. I ran to the biker. His bike had hit the tree head on, and it was obvious that he'd been thrown. The bike was destroyed. I only prayed that the man had survived. I crouched down next to him, taking note of the twisted way in which he was resting on the damp ground. Oh my God! "Is he okay?" I could hear the nervousness in Ron's voice as he hovered close by. "It was a accident!" he whined. "He should have slowed down!" He was already making excuses for his bad behavior, one of his familiar traits. "You were the one in the wrong!" I snapped, shooting him a look of anger. I was so mad I was shaking. A low moan indicated that the man on the ground was alive. "Help me turn him over. And be careful!" When Ron didn't move, I glanced back at him. He was slowly backing up, a look of horror on his thin face. He shook his head. "No..." His eyes met mine. "Do you know who he is? He's with the Soldiers of Retribution!" The fear in his wild eyes held me momentarily frozen. I'd heard of the local MC, had seen them riding around town, but had never been close to any of them. I returned my gaze to the motionless man on the ground, taking in the words on the back of his leather jacket. "So?" I said after a while. "He's hurt. We have to help him." Ron continued to shake his head, his backward steps never faltering as they took him back to his car. "Come on. We have to leave him. They'll kill us..." I snorted with disbelief. "Are you kidding me? Get a grip, Ron. It was an accident, as you pointed out. We're not going to leave an injured man on the side of the road. It could be hours before anyone else comes along. Now help me turn him over so I can see how hurt he is." Ron hesitated and then reluctantly walked back to me. Together we managed to turn the huge man over until he was on his back. His low groan of pain sent a shiver down my spine. I lifted his cracked visor to get a look at his face. "Okay, we've turned him over, now let's go." "Are you serious right now? Jesus, Ron!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving him!" I said harshly, running my eyes over the man as I tried to assess his injuries. The blood on his forehead and the side of his face revealed that he had a head injury. "We have to go!" Ron reached down, grabbed my arm, and tried to haul me to my feet. "Before anyone comes!" "What is wrong with you?" I snarled, jerking my arm away and falling back to the ground. "Call an ambulance!" The man groaned again, louder this time. "After we leave here, we'll call for an ambulance. You don't want to get on the bad side of the Soldiers." "Then you go!" I yelled, furious and fed up with him. I wasn't familiar with the reputation of the Soldiers of Retribution, but I'd never seen or heard anything negative about them. In fact, just the opposite. But something had my brother spooked. "I'll call you when I get home." I couldn't keep the disgust out of my tone. I returned my attention to the man on the ground and caught my breath. His eyes were open and he was staring up at me, pain etched on his chiseled features. He wet his lips. "Can you move?" I asked him worriedly. "God, that hurt." He ignored me. "Call..." For the first time I noticed that he'd reached for something in his jacket and was struggling to get it out. Behind me I heard Ron take off. I shook my head with deep disappointment and realized that his running away was only going to cause him more problems. "Here, let me." I gently moved the man's hand aside and dug out his phone. "Who do you want me to call?" He started to say something, cleared his throat, and whispered, "Eagle..." "Eagle. Okay." I went down his contact list until I found Eagle and hit his number. "Shouldn't I call 911, too?" I caught the slight nod of his head that indicated yes. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" I asked as Eagle's number rang. "Take my helmet off." I put his phone on my shoulder and did as he asked. "Where the heck are you, Brother? You're late." I cleared my throat. "Um, hello?" There was clear surprise in the silence I was met with. "Your brother has been in an accident." "Who the heck is this?" "Leona. We—" "What happened?" "It was a car accident." "God!" His breathing picked up, and I could tell that he was on the move. "Where are you, Leo?" Leo? I could hear the frown in his voice. "Down on the old farmer's road by the abandoned Kent farm." "Have you called 911?" "He, ah, asked me to call you first." "Call for an ambulance," he growled. "We're on our way." He hung up and I met the slightly dazed eyes of the man on the ground. His lips were pressed tightly together, an indication that he was in pain. I dialed 911, gave directions, and then hung up. "Are you in any pain?" I realized how stupid that sounded, but felt that conversation would keep him from passing out on me. He groaned. "God, lady, I hit a tree." His brown eyes moved over me as he tried to sit up. "Nice boyfriend you have, leaving you to fend for yourself." I wasn't about to inform him that Ron was my reckless, chicken-hearted eighteen-year-old brother. The less I said about him, the better. I watched him struggle for a minute before I bent to help him into a sitting position against the tree. "Do you feel like anything is broken?" He shook his head. "Just had the wind knocked out of me." "You might have a concussion," I offered when he brought his hand up to his head. He brought his hand down and looked at the blood. "Been worse." His gaze fell on his bike. He groaned. "Bike's history." "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say. "My name is Leona." "Heard when you were talking to Eagle." He tried to stretch his leg out and winced in pain. "Thanks for staying. Name's Brew." Brew? Maybe it was short for something. I could hear motorcycles approaching in the distance. "That was fast," I murmured. "Clubhouse is just down the road," he explained. I knew the only thing down the road was Toby's salvage yard because we'd passed it earlier. Ron had told me that it had been sold a while back. "You must be the new owners." He groaned and laid his head back against the tree and closed his eyes. "Yeah." I could tell that he didn't want to talk. I wished that there was something more I could do and was thankful when several motorcycles crested the hill in the distance, racing our way. The closer they got, the more nervous I got. The four men were big and kind of frightening-looking. They pulled up next to us, gravel and rocks crunching beneath the tires of their huge bikes. I stood up next to Brew's head as they rushed over to us. "The God, Brother, what happened?" The one asking the question crouched next to Brew. He glanced up at me. "You with him?" He was a formidable sight. His short hair matched the scruff on his tight jaw. Beautiful gray eyes peered up at me as he waited for an answer. There was a black tattoo around his thickly corded neck and down his left arm, his sleeveless shirt and cut revealing how muscular his arms were. I hadn't had the chance to get an idea of his height when he'd first arrived, but I could tell that he was built solid beneath his clothes. His faded jeans stretched tightly over his thighs. "No," I managed to get out from beneath his intense stare. "I, um, was in the car—" "Where the heck is it?" one of the other guys asked. They scanned the area before pinning their frowns back on me. "Gone," Brew muttered, drawing gray eyes back to him. For the first time I noticed that he was holding his left side. He'd grown paler. I was glad that I could hear the ambulance coming. "prick took off." Gray Eyes swung his gaze back up to me. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. "You want to tell me who he is?" Not really. I sensed it would be bad for Ron. Gray Eyes looked like he wanted to hurt someone. "Black Camaro," Brew uttered in a weakening voice. "We passed a Camaro," a tall blonde barked. The four men swapped looks, and Gray Eyes gave a jerk of his head. "Go." "Wait!" I called out as three of them turned at once to head for their bikes. "Are you going to hurt him? It was an accident!" Brew snorted. I knew that I was stretching the truth, but I didn't like the looks on their rugged faces. Gray Eyes stood up. "An accident, huh?" He was taller than I'd expected. "Why'd he run off then?" I swallowed, stepping back so I wouldn't have to crane my neck so much. "He was, um, afraid." "What kind of chicken mess leaves his girlfriend to handle his mess?" Yeah, chicken mess, that was my brother. I stared into the guy's beautiful eyes and took a calming breath. He crossed his arms in a move that could have been taken as threatening. "You gonna tell me who the heck he is?" I shook my head. "Not if you're going to hurt him." His brows shot up. "Hit and run." I silently agreed with him that it looked bad. "You don't think he deserves to pay for hitting someone and leaving them on the side of a road? For leaving his woman to face the consequences?" What? "Why should I face the consequences? I wasn't driving. And I stayed behind to help your friend." "Brother." He sucked in a deep breath and released it through his nose like an angry bull. I got the sense that he didn't like the fact that I wasn't cooperating. He leaned in close and muttered the words, "I want a name." I leaned back nervously, a little frightened by his imposing stature. I didn't know him. Didn't know what kind of man he was, or what he was capable of doing. He might be good to look at, but everything else about him was big and hard and kind of scary. "Don't scare her, Eagle." Eagle turned his head to look at Brew, then turned it back to pin those quick-silver eyes on me. He wanted a name? Playing stupid, I gave him a name. "Leona." Eagle God, she was cute, but I didn't have time to pursue my interest when Brew was groaning in pain. There was no telling how severe his injuries were. His bike was toast, the twisted, broken metal showing how hard he must have hit the tree against which he was resting. I was glad to see the ambulance come up over the hill. I narrowed my gaze on Leo, trying to intimidate her into telling me who the driver of the car that had hit Brew had been. I was good at intimidating people, especially civilians, but she was holding strong, standing there as if she could stare me down and win. Whoever the guy was, I knew he must be someone special to her. She was protecting him. Well, that was too bad. For her. I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had a name. Whoever had hit Brew and then taken off was going to pay, one way or another. Soldiers of Retribution hadn't earned their name from ignoring the wrongs done to the club or its members, but I decided to let it go for now. When the ambulance pulled over and two EMTs jumped out, I stood out of the way. "What happened?" one of them asked. I glanced down at Brew. He'd grown pale and was close to losing consciousness. He didn't look capable of answering any questions, so I turned my attention to Leo, crossed my arms and raised a brow. "It was a car accident," she said. "I think he hit the tree headfirst." God, I thought. Brew was lucky to be alive. For the first time I noticed that his brain bucket was cracked and shattered. "Get the cervical collar," one EMT said to the other. "Did anyone call the sheriff?" "The chicken-mess driver drove off," I responded, getting a glare from Leo. Regret filled her eyes, but she kept them focused on mine without fear. "Hit and run? God!" A few minutes passed as they took Brew's vitals and fitted him with a neck brace. Then the one who'd retrieved the neck brace returned to the ambulance and came back with a stretcher. He lowered it to the ground, they carefully lifted Brew on top of it, and then raised it again. "We're taking him to Mid-Coast." I nodded. "He wakes, tell him his brothers will be there soon." I waited until he acknowledged that he'd heard me before turning back to the woman. "I want the name of the driver." She took a breath, which did wonders for her boobs when they stretched against the tee she was wearing. Then she straightened her shoulders and tilted her jaw just enough to let me know she was going to remain stubborn. "I'm sorry, I can't do that unless you promise not to hurt him." I frowned. "He someone special to you?" "Yes." "Boyfriend?" "No." That was all she offered. "God, woman." I was getting angry over our word play. I noticed that the change in my tone of voice caused her to take a little step back, and, using her fear to my advantage, I moved toward her menacingly. For every step I took closer to her she took one backwards. I almost grinned when her eyes began darting around the area as if she were looking for someone to help her. "You know who we are?" "I've heard of you." "Then you know we're the good guys." A burst of laughter escaped her. "It doesn't look like it right now." "You think this is funny?" She shook her head. "No!" Her backside came up against the tree Brew had slammed into, the breath rushing from between her parted lips. "I tend to laugh when I get nervous. And you're scaring me." "Oh, yeah?" I stopped when I was almost flush against her. A deep breath would have had me brushing against her boobs. "I can scare you a lot more if you don't give me what I want." "I don't appreciate you threatening me. I stayed with your brother. Made the calls for help. Is this how you repay an innocent bystander?" "You're hardly a bystander." I noticed the green of her eyes had little flakes of gold in them, and her lashes were thick and long, natural. The same color as her chestnut hair. I fought to keep from touching the silky waves, realizing that my thoughts of Brew were dulling and being replaced with inappropriate thoughts about Leo. "And I doubt anything about you is innocent." My gaze dropped to her lips, which were covered with a thin gloss. They were plump and tempting. God... My phone vibrated and I dug it out of my pocket, thankful for the interruption. It was Lynx. "Did you catch up to him?" "No. He must have turned off somewhere." I kept my eyes on Leo's. "Head to Mid-Coast then. I'll meet you there." "Got it." Once he was off, I hit Wolfe's number. He started right in with, "Buck already called, Brother. You get the name of the driver from the witness?" My lips turned down, frustration evident in my tone, "No. She's not cooperating." "She still with you?" "Yup." "Bring her to the clubhouse. She goes nowhere until we get to the truth. For all we know this could be connected to those pricks the Maniacs and the trouble that went down in New York." I sucked in a deep breath because I sensed that this wasn't going to go over particularly well with the woman. Wolfe was right though--we needed to make sure that Brew hadn't been targeted because he used to ride with the Maniacs. Little Miss Leo may have been innocent, but whoever had been driving that car wasn't, and she was protecting them. "Will do." Wolfe hung up, but I pretended that I was still talking to him. "I'll lock her hip up in the basement." The clubhouse didn't have a basement, but Leo didn't know that. I'd said that part for her, rewarded when worry filled her eyes and she turned pale when she realized I was talking about her. I grinned, enjoying the color of alarm on her pretty face. "Looks like you're coming with me, darlin'." She shook her head and looked like she was going to bolt. "Look around you, Leo. You see anyone else you can hitch a ride with?" "God," I heard her low murmur. "My mama taught me to never go off with strangers. I'll walk." Knowing the area, I snorted. The clubhouse was down the road, about half a mile. After that it was a couple of miles to reach Georgetown. "It's settled then. You're coming with me." "So you can lock me up somewhere? I don't think so." She sank away from me as I stepped closer. I saw her wince as the bark of the tree dug into her back. "You ready to tell me who you're protecting?" She didn't respond but I could see the stubbornness in her eyes. "Then you have two choices. You can either sit behind me and hold on, or I'll put you in front of me and trust me, you won't like what you feel." She blinked. And blinked some more. My grin was suggestive, and once she figured out what I meant, she blushed and stuttered, "Y-You're a pig!" I shrugged. "Just being truthful. I'm a hip man and having one up against me gets me hard." I paused to emphasize. "Every time." I turned and headed for my bike with a grin on my face. "Better make up your mind, before I make it up for you." I climbed on and sat there waiting. I was surprised at the patience I was showing when I wasn't normally a patient man. Only I'd underestimated her stubbornness, and perseverance. When a car crested the hill, her eyes lit up, and I knew instinctively what she was going to do. She was going to cause trouble, that's what. She stepped away from the tree and headed toward the road excitedly. I jumped off my bike and intercepted her. I caught her up against me. "Let me go!" she demanded. The feel of her soft boobs rubbing against me reminded me that I'd been getting a oral job from Jezzie before we'd been interrupted by Leo's call. I still had a slight buzz from that. I inhaled Leo's intoxicating scent, something sweet and fresh, and exotic. The interest I'd pushed aside earlier came back with a vengeance. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and I gave in to a need I didn't know I had. I wanted to find out if her plump lips were as soft as they looked. I had to taste her. I slammed my mouth down on hers and pecked her hard. Leo struggled to get away for a second before it turned into something different and then she pecked me back. The small hands that had been pushing against my chest were now fisting my cut and holding me tightly. Her sweet mouth moved hungrily against mine, her moans of submission music to my ears. When our tongues meshed, all warm and wet, I lost it. The groan that escaped me sounded like one coming from a bear. An unexplainable need of arousal uncurled in my gut as my shaft rose to the occasion. Jesus, I should feel guilty for getting so turned on by Leo when Jillian was the one that I wanted. Jillian was the woman I'd been watching and waiting to make a move on, but the timing had never seemed right. Friends. We were still just friends. This woman meant nothing to me and yet having her in my arms was making me feel everything. The car's horn should have startled us apart. I reminded myself why I was pecking her in the first place and pulled away, anger close to the surface. Anger at myself for feeling guilty over how much I liked pecking Leo. I shouldn't like pecking another woman. God, I didn't even peck the sweet tarts. I slept them, though. I had needs and they were there for relief, and that was all. Until I made Jillian mine. God! I glared down at the little spitfire in my arms. She was flushed with heat, her eyes glossy. Her lips were swollen and wet. I'd done that to her, and I wondered what she saw on my face. God, I should never have pecked her, but the situation had called for drastic measures. To make sure she didn't get the wrong idea, I curled my hand around the softness of her upper arm and pulled her with me. "Come on." She tried to pull away and I swung on her like a vicious dog. "I'm done!" I snarled in her face. She flinched but I kept going. "Now get your hip on my bike!" She stared at me for a minute and then wordlessly went to my bike. I waited for her to climb on before joining her. "You ever ridden before?" I swung my leg over. "No." "We don't have far to go. Just hold on and lean into any turns I take." I waited for her to wrap her arms around me, but it never happened. Her little hands tentatively clutched at my sides. I started my bike and reached down for her hands, wrapping her arms around me. I ignored her huff and crossed one hand over the other. "Don't let go." "Don't worry," came her snarky response. "I'm looking forward to being locked up in the basement." Grinning, I took off.