Prologue
The gratifying sound of the Charger’s roar echoed through the garage bay as I stood up triumphantly to wipe the grease from my fingers.
“Holy shit, Wren, you actually got it runnin’?” Tatum marveled in shock.
“Course she did,” my father’s deep voice rumbled with pride as he sidled up alongside me to check out my handiwork.
My pop had had me working alongside him, getting our hands dirty since I was young enough to hold a wrench. I’d always been more of a tomboy, more interested in motor oil than Barbie dolls. My parents never pressured me to be anything but.
“Good job, baby,” my pop praised, clapping me on the shoulder just as Cole and Axel joined us.
As vice president of the Knights Motorcycle Club, an institution that all but ran our small town of Hawthorne, Nevada, my father, Sal Armstrong, was well known and respected throughout the area. I’d been raised within the club, which had grown exponentially over the years with the second generation rising up through the ranks.
Many of us kids were close in age and had formed a tight crew. We watched each other’s backs, and though many of us weren’t related by blood, we were a closer family than I’d ever observed anywhere else. My family was the club—its members and their wives and children. I’d never known any different. I didn’t want to.
“She got it running,” Tate informed his father, Cole Jackson, one of my father’s closest friends and the club prez.
Cole shot me a knowing grin, his blue eyes shining. “I’m sure she did.”
“I think I’ll take her for a spin. Tate, you in?” I asked with a raised brow. At eighteen, Tate and I were the same age. Though he drove me batshit crazy most of the time, he was like a brother to me.
“Hell yes,” he replied emphatically, grabbing his cut and hopping into the passenger seat.
“I’ll see you at home, Pop.” I waved, sliding into the driver’s seat and revving the engine a bit. I couldn’t help myself.
He shot me a warning look, which I’d seen more times in my life than I could count. He wanted me to be careful, and I would be—relatively speaking at least. I had a bit of a lead foot, everyone knew it, but I could handle myself. They knew that too.
I was the picture of calm most of the time, with one very large exception. An exception that was pulling his Harley up to the club as we were driving away.
Max Jackson.
I’d been in love with Max for as long as I could remember. What had begun as a childhood crush had bloomed into something much more powerful over the years. At eight years my senior, Max had always treated me like one of the kids. With every passing year, his indifference, especially when I felt like my heart would explode at the mere sight of him, got harder and harder for me to bear.
I tried not to stare as he swung a muscled thigh over his bike before raking his hands through his head of thick dark hair. When his brown eyes landed on me, he watched impassively as we passed.
Tatum threw up a two-fingered salute in greeting as we made our way toward the access road that bordered the club headquarters.
“You make up your mind about school?” Tate asked as I hit the gas, trying to beat back the emotion seeing Max always incited. With us both being part of the club, that was nearly every day. It was seriously exhausting.
“No,” I admitted with a sigh. I’d been accepted to a few different colleges and was still making up my mind if I wanted to move away. Part of me wanted to stay close to home while the other part felt as though it might be time to branch out.
“Not much time left,” he pointed out unhelpfully.
I shot him an annoyed glance. “Yeah, I know.” I envied Tatum. For him, his future was clear. He’d wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps since he could walk. He’d recently patched in and felt as though his life was made.
He shrugged, undeterred by my ire. “Just sayin’. Did you think about your pop’s offer?” He was referring to the fact that my dad had given me the option of working as a mechanic for the club. While I loved the idea in theory, I wasn’t sure I could stomach continuing to see Max every day.
Max tended to keep to himself. He was reserved, the type that only spoke when he really had something to say. From what I could tell, he was selective when it came to women, or at least more so than many of the members. But whenever I did see him with another woman, I wanted to die and vomit at the same time.
“Jesus, Tate, you’re as bad as my folks,” I griped, clenching the wheel in aggravation. “I’m thinking it all over. I just need more time.”
“All right, all right, don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” I muttered, used to our standard banter.
He chuckled good-naturedly as the Charger growled, picking up speed.
****
The house party was in full swing that Friday night as Olivia and I walked into the chaos, arm in arm. As Axel Black’s daughter, Liv was also a daughter of the Knights MC and well acquainted with the life. We’d been best friends since birth.
Tonight’s party had nothing to do with the club and was instead your standard high school party, complete with the expected keg and perhaps unexpected… skinny dipping? I squinted to get a better look out back. Yep, those were definitely naked girls in the pool. A bit early for that, but whatever. I grabbed Liv and myself a beer as we stood talking with some of our classmates in the kitchen. We’d been vague with our parents on our plans for the evening, otherwise risking being forced to bring one of the guys with us. There wasn’t one member of the club, no matter how young, that wouldn’t intimidate the hell out of this crowd, and there were times when Olivia and I just wanted to feel like your average teenager.
“Jared is totally staring at you,” Olivia told me quietly, her gaze across the room. “Maybe he’ll actually try to talk to you tonight since we’re without a bunch of scary-ass bikers.” She grinned.
I rolled my eyes, not interested in the least in Jared or any other boy my age. No, only one person would do for me, and he was all man. All confident, lethal, masculine man. Wanting Max made conjuring interest in a high school boy completely impossible. I didn’t even try.
“Here he comes.” She grinned around the rim of her cup, clearly amused.
“Great,” I muttered dryly. Jared had been showing an interest in me for the past year but hadn’t outright asked me out, which was a relief since that meant I hadn’t needed to reject him.
“Hey, Wren,” he greeted with an easy grin. As far as high school boys went, Jared was a handsome one, and he was in high demand if the glares I was getting from the other girls in the room said anything about it.
“Hi,” I greeted, glaring at Liv as she very conveniently made herself scarce. She was the only person who knew about my feelings for Max, and tired of seeing me heartbroken over it, she was constantly pushing me toward other boys.
“Crazy we’re almost done, huh?” he asked. “Have you decided where you’re going to school?”
That was the question of the hour apparently.
“Not yet,” I shook my head. “You?” I didn’t really care, but it seemed impolite not to ask.
“Not yet,” he answered vaguely.
“Ah.” I nodded, trying to look interested.
“Listen,” he began as I braced for whatever he was about to say. “If you’re around—”
He paused as a commotion sounded by the front door. A moment later, I groaned as Tatum, along with Olivia’s oldest brother, Maddox, strode in, outfitted in their standard cuts, the Knights MC logo bright and bold on their backs as they searched the room.
When he saw me, Tatum’s face spread into a devilish grin. I glared at him as the other girls in the room began preening. Suddenly, there were far better options than Jared to be had. It didn’t escape my notice that at the appearance of Tate and Mad, Jared didn’t delay in making himself scarce.
“You suck,” I hissed when they drew closer. “How did you even know we were here?”
“Max sent us.” Maddox replied, his gaze sliding over the girls in the room, looking bored. “I’ll go find Liv,” he added, wandering off to find his sister.
“Max?” I demanded, incredulous. This wasn’t the first time he’d sent the guys after us. It made no sense to me. He barely talked to me. I wasn’t even sure he liked me, much less cared how I spent my time. “Why the hell does he care?”
“Probably just tryin’ to stay in Sal’s good graces.” Tate shrugged. “Whoa, are those chicks naked?” His brows rose as he caught sight of the pool. “This party just got interesting.”
“Nuh-uh.” I shook my head. “If Liv and I don’t get to enjoy this party, then you don’t either.” I grabbed his jacket, pulling him toward the door. I suddenly had a much more important place to be.
When we arrived at the club on the back of Tate and Mad’s bikes, I was steaming mad. I stomped into headquarters, scanning the crowded room until I found him. Standing by the pool table with a club cherry looking on, Max was focused on the game and, as always, infuriatingly handsome.
Feeling bold with frustration, I stole the pool cue right out of his hand. “Why?” I demanded by way of greeting.
“Um, we’re in the middle of a game,” the blonde whined.
I shot her a glare.
“Get lost, Kelly,” he told her dismissively before his dark eyes returned to me. “Why what?” he asked, undeterred by my temper.
“Why did you send the goon squad to come get us? Did my dad make you do that?”
“No.”
His response was a surprise. “Then why?” I sputtered.
For a moment, I swore I saw a flash of something in his expression, something other than the standard veil of aloofness he sported so well. “Because you two shouldn’t be at a party like that without a man on you.”
“Says who?”
“Says me,” he growled.
My heart pounded at the passion in his tone. “Why do you care?” I whispered, fervently hoping he’d say something—anything to provide me with a glimmer of hope that after all these years maybe, just maybe, he felt something for me too.
As though a door had slammed shut, his expression turned blank as his mask slid back into place. “I don’t.” He shook his head and gestured for Kelly to wobble back over in her four-inch heels.
My gut twisted at his cool words as he slid an arm around the bimbo at his side. “You’re an ass, Max. You know that?” I hissed, turning and stalking away.
The only silver lining, and it was really more a gray one than anything, was that he’d just made my decision easy.
I had to get the hell out of here.