I was finishing up a tutoring session with Jackie Thomas when I heard the motorcycle's growl.

“What's Brass doing here?” The fourteen year old blinked at me, relieved to have a distraction from the tough math problem we were wrapping up.

Who could blame her? The way the schools were teaching this crap required a PhD to figure out.

“Probably looking for your sis,” I said. Her sister, Missy, was Brass' old lady. I expected her to come by any minute to pick the girl up, but maybe she'd sent her old man to do it instead.

I rubbed my nose. Ugh. I definitely wasn't in the mood to see anyone else from the MC after Big Ed's recent visit.

“You know, here's a good place to call it done for today. We can pick up on this stuff next session. The summer classes move slow, don't they?”

“Yes! God, I keep telling them I know all this. I can figure out the right answers. It's showing my work that's the problem. Just a couple more weeks.” No surprise, smart girls like her reacted the worst to this remedial summer crap, purely because she'd missed a few weeks earlier this year.

I was the same way.

“You're getting it!” I smiled. “It's all political, Jackie. They just want you to show your work their way. Welcome to the real world. Unfortunately, we've all got to deal with its crap.”

The teenager puckered sourly. “Don't I know it, Christa.”

I dropped my eyes, helping her gather up her things. She wasn't kidding. Both her and the big sister Brass claimed as his girl had been through hell after their father died. When Missy first hired me to tutor the kid, they were keeping their distance from him, and he was the only thing protecting them from the Grizzlies' wrath.

Something about their dead father's troubles and some money that was owed to the club. Seemed eerily familiar.

Of course, the club got off their throats as soon as Brass stepped in. He remedied everything, and in the process, Missy had fallen for him. She happily wore her old lady jacket nearly every time I saw her. PROPERTY OF BRASS, branded on the back like she was some kinda pet.

I shook my head. No way. I wasn't the submissive type. That thing would never be for me, no matter how hot some of the guys were on their wheels.

I'd tasted the sour side of MC life, and it stuck with me. If there was a sweet side, I wasn't interested in jumping through hoops to find it.

I wanted to make my money, pay my debt, and move onto bigger and better things. Someday, I told myself. Someday.

“Hey! It's not Brass.” Jackie was peeking through the blinds. They snapped shut when she pulled her hand away. “That's Rabid.”

Shit! I got up as calmly as I could, deafened by the alarm bells blaring in my head. Seriously, why couldn't he just leave me alone?

I'd be okay. I could take care of myself. He bailed me out once, and I was grateful, but I didn't need him looking in on me like a kid.

“I sure hope your sis shows up soon,” I said. “Come on. Let's wait outside.”

And let me find out what this asshole wants now, I thought. It never ends, does it?

Jackie stayed on the porch, sipping passion fruit tea from a glass bottle, giving me some much needed space. Rabid stopped and slowly took off the shades he was wearing to block the evening sun. My hopes he'd be ready to catch hell vanished when the sunglasses came off.

His dark eyes shined bright, angry, and full of accusations. Damn! I didn't need his shit today – and I definitely didn't need a pissed off biker on my doorstep.

“What's going on?” I said, praying we'd get this over with quick. “Didn't know it was time for my weekly parole talk with the club.”

“Not today, babe. Cut the shit,” he growled. “I wanna know what's really going on with you, and I need to know before the sun goes down.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” The ferocity in his tone surprised me. It also set me on edge. “And why is my life any of your fucking business?”

“Because this ugly fucker from Oregon who just came by our clubhouse mentioned you by name. We're not on good terms with him and his brothers. If you're in some sorta trouble with a fucked up charter at our throats, that's something I need to know about. Your business is my business, and it's club business too when it gets tangled up together like that.”

“Oh? So it's not just you trying to play white knight?”

He bared his teeth. “Of course I care what's going on here. You know I'm not interested in letting the rotten parts of our club hurt you again. I'm here to help, Christa, and maybe you'd figure it out if you'd lay off the venom for a few seconds.”

I shrugged. “I need to wait for my student to leave before we can talk. Will you at least give me that?”

He looked at Jackie, and then did a double take. “Shit. Figures every fuckin' thing I do gets back to Brass one way or another...all right! Just get on my bike and we'll make sure she gets home okay.”

He wasn't asking. Something about the raw, possessive needles in his voice infuriated me as much as it made me curious. He'd always been super polite before, every time except the day we were getting shot at. He was so powerful, so protective when he held me down in the dirt, edging me to safety.

He would've taken a bullet for me. I guess that counted for something. Just not enough to make me grin and drop to my knees when he stepped into my life uninvited.

I couldn't be blind to this, to him.

Rabid was a bastard. No, I couldn't deny he was good at what he did. But the good guy mask he wore other times was just an act. The leather hanging on his shoulders with the growling bear's blood red insignia told me what he really was – an unrelenting bastard as harsh as men like Ed – even if his heart was in a better place.

Like him or not, there was no saying no today if I wanted to avoid more crap. I took the passenger helmet from him and strapped it on while we sat.

Missy's car pulled up about a minute later. Jackie came running and hopped into the passenger seat. Couldn't blame the girl for running away from this drama when she had the chance. Just then, I would've killed for some good old fashioned teenage drama instead of being mixed up with this biker.

I watched Missy emerge from the driver's side and come toward us, fishing through her purse on the way. Her transformation was incredible.

The plain, shy, scared woman I'd first met was totally gone. She stabbed the heels of her new boots into the ground like she owned it, and her chestnut locks caught the setting sun. She radiated pure confidence, breaking into a wide, amused grin when she reached us.

“Here's the cash!” Missy winked, pushing several crisp twenties into my hands. Great. Food money for the next week.

“Thanks.”

“Since when are you going for rides with Rabid?” Her eyes flitted to the stone faced biker, who grunted a response, all he could do to hide the fact that he wasn't just asking me out for a joy ride. “We need to catch up one day soon, girl! It's good to see you expanding your circle beyond my little sis.”

“Something like that,” I said. “I've always wanted to ride. I thought Rabid would be the perfect man to show me how.”

His shoulder jerked when I laid my hand on it. His eyes caught mine through the mirror, and I smiled when I saw his eyebrows were up. Guess he never expected me to be a good girl and play along.

Whatever. It was kinda fun to screw with him. Least I could do to get back a little of the frustration he gave me.

“I'd appreciate it if you keep this mum between the three of us,” Rabid said to her. “Brass is really cracking the fucking whip lately. Every minute I'm spending outside the clubhouse isn't a good one.”

Missy laughed and stuck her tongue out. “Tell me about it! I'm about to head home for another evening trying to calm his ass down. He's so wound up anymore. I'm glad you're getting out and enjoying yourself, Rabid. Both of you. Your secret's safe with me.”

She smiled and pushed an imaginary zipper across her lips. I nodded, mouthed a thanks. Incredibly, I'd be spared the embarrassment.

It was amazing to think the tension between us was truly invisible to everybody else. Right now, it felt like we were sharing the same noose, ready to swing tight around our throats and suffocate us.

“Use some of that to buy yourself something fun,” Missy said, pointing to the wad in my hands.

“I'm sure I'll find something.” I tucked the bills into my pocket. “Don't let Jackie waste too many of these summer evenings on her math. We're only young once. She's a smart girl, and it's all coming to her bit by bit. She'll have the rest figured out in no time.”

Missy rolled her eyes. “I'm pretty sure your lessons are the only thing she's studying at all. It's hard to keep her in most nights. You know how teen girls are. Stir crazy. I'm kinda glad Brass isn't allowing any boys in, though!”

I plastered on another big fake smile as Rabid revved the engine. “We're all just looking for some fun. I'll see you both next week!”

No more waiting around. The bike jerked forward, shooting along the asphalt, ready to take us wherever the hell he wanted for this talk.

I had to keep my hands on him the entire time. Not knowing what he was really feeling was the hard part. His other courtesy visits were so much easier to brush off than this, and I could read him like a clock.

Now, I barely recognized the demon gripping the handlebars and taking us outside Redding's city limits, sending us north while the sun slipped below the horizon. He was so warm, so hard, so omnipotent guiding this rocket on wheels into the country darkness.

The less sure I was about him, the harder I clung to his waist. I saw my face in the rear view mirror, trying to keep it together.

He wanted me. I wasn't blind to it. What I couldn't figure out was why.

I'd seen the kind of women outlaw bikers hung around when I had the bar, the same women dad had flings with when he used to ride. Most of these guys only wanted trashy looking whores with big boobs and gumball butts, their lips painted every pornographic shade I could imagine, and several I couldn't until I actually saw them.

The old ladies were sweet – at least for the good, lucky men. They stood by their guys with their knockout looks and hearts like nails, ready for an endless power dance, treating their brands as seriously as wedding rings when the love was really special.

It was beautiful when it was done right. I didn't know what Rabid was looking for – maybe more than a hard night of fucking – but I couldn't get over why.

What the hell did he see in me? Big Ed and the other bastards in Klamath shredded my confidence, and their dead national President stole my looks. It was gone before they ruined my beauty. I barely cried and screamed when Fang slid the blade across my face.

Somehow, I knew I was destined to suffer. Call it bad karma for getting too deep into a lifestyle that was never meant for me.

I thought I was tough, ready to grab the world by the throat, when I went north to start my bar. The world had showed me instead, and now it was slowly choking my life away, piece by brutal piece.

Of course, some of these biker dudes were twisted. It took more than balloon tits and sugary lipstick to turn their crank. Maybe Rabid was one of them.. Maybe he got a hard-on for scarred chicks, and I was supposed to be his latest fetish conquest.

To hell with that! I wasn't anybody's conquest, whore, slut, or girl. I wasn't desperate. I was perfectly content to live out my days all alone, maybe see what the world had to offer in the way of nice, boring dudes who worked in cubicles and left the stink of motor oil to their mechanics.

Badasses were fun to look at, and even more fun to ride. But they weren't good for me. I'd never be anything more than a toy for a man like Rabid, and an intact heart was all I had left to my name.

I swore I'd keep it that way too, temptation be damned.

The bike slowed as we approached an old dirt road. It coiled around to an abandoned ranch, some place he was clearly familiar with.

“Jesus, Rabid. I knew you wanted privacy, but I didn't think we'd be going so remote.” Staring up at the stars beginning to sparkle in the sky made me want to eat my words.

The middle of nowhere could sure be beautiful.

“Thought it'd be calming. It's easy not to get pissed and talk like rational people when the scenery's pretty.” He got off the bike, unfastening his helmet, and then taking my own.

I grudgingly took the hand he extended to help me off his Harley. We walked toward one of the old buildings, a storage shed that had seen better days, judging by the holes ripped in the sheet metal.

“This bench is still good. We won't fall through it.” He pointed to an old wooden loveseat near the back.

It was the kind that had a little swing to it when you sat down. The hinges creaked, but not nearly as bad as I expected based on the age.

“Okay. So, tell me, what is it I need to say to convince you I'm a big girl who can take care of herself?”

“Start by telling me the truth, Christa. Nobody thought you had any connections to this club before Big Ed showed up. Shit, even Fang's old goons who turned to our side acted like they didn't have a clue who you were. There's history here. Don't bullshit me about it.”

“Yeah, history. Not with the Redding charter. You're wrong about that,” I said, locking eyes with him. “I spent a few years north of here. I wanted to be free and wild, get away from living with my father. I had some cash saved up, so I started up a biker bar outside Klamath Falls. Always thought it'd be a stepping stone to bigger and better things.”

“Shit.” His eyebrows quirked up. “I never would've guessed you for a biker chick.”

“Born and raised. Dad spent twenty years in the Klondike Killers. He rode with them all the time when he wasn't out fishing Alaska's short summers. He retired his colors as soon as he came to Grizzlies territory, though.” I didn't mention the Alzheimer's.

I wasn't going to lay all my cards out for him. Only the ones that were relevant to get him off my back.

“Holy fuck, baby. Those guys were badasses. Grizzlies used to do business with them outta Seattle and Bellingham before everything went to pieces. Damn good thing the crazy fucks never expanded past the Yukon.” He shook his head, then fixed those bright honey colored eyes on me again. “That still doesn't explain why the fuck you're tangled up with a motherfucker like Ed.”

“Ew.” I wrinkled my nose. “That's not an image I want. It's not like I ever fucked him.”

“Come the fuck on,” Rabid growled, something like jealousy lining his face. “You know what I mean. How does he know you?”

“Well, when I ran the bar, I couldn't do it with what I scrimped and saved as a teen. Even dad's contribution couldn't do the job. No bank was going to loan money to a nineteen year old kid with no business experience and no degree. I went to the only ones who could.”

He slapped his forehead. “Fuck. Of course. I always heard the crew up there was looking for new fronts to help launder their shit.”

“And I wouldn't let them,” I said, remembering the blowout arguments with Ed, Rip, and the other Klamath boys who'd nearly cost me my life. “They gave me the loan in the first place because they thought I'd be easy to control. Who better than some little girl they could push around? Except I wouldn't roll over. The money dried up. The bar wasn't bringing in the kinda business it needed to survive, let alone thrive. I couldn't make the payments and my booze dried up. I walked away owing the city a few hundred in licensing fees, plus a little over a hundred thousand to your brothers north of the border.”

Rabid stood up, his nostrils flaring. “Sonofabitch. This is bad, baby. Real fucking bad. I have to tell the club. We can get those assholes off your back.”

“No!” I reached out and grabbed his hand. His fist was so hard he could've beaten down the old, rickety farmhouse on the hill in front of us. “I'm taking care of it. Look, we'll both agree Big Ed's a piece of shit. He's a fat, crude bully. I hate dealing with him. He only comes and gives me crap when I've fallen behind on my payments.”

Rabid spun, pinching my fingers tight in his. “Then let me.”

“I can't do that...I know about the bad blood in Redding right now. Your club's still going through major changes. I'm not blind, Rabid. I can see you're on edge, a heartbeat away from tearing into them.”

“Damned straight,” he growled, jerking me out of the seat. “Those fuckers haven't listened to the new officers since we wasted Fang. They fucking spat in Blackjack's face, and now they're not following the protocol for club debts. Redding's our territory. That means everything in it dealing with club biz is our goddamned business first – including anything you owe, babe.”

No, no, no. This wasn't turning out the way I wanted. The bright, mad spark in his eyes was way too seductive. He gave me hope I never asked for.

I wanted his protection. I wanted him.

Hell, I wanted to throw myself at him, scars and all. I wanted to feel his massive arms wrapped around me, savor his energy, his belief in a world that still had black and white without endless, suffocating gray.

This was dangerous. Very, very bad. If I let him pull me into the dark ink coiling up his arms, I'd never want to leave until I let him drag me to bed. Naked, whimpering, and – worst of all – wanting.

I couldn't indulge this attraction, no matter how tempting he looked, or how many ways his powerful arms promised to smash Big Ed's ugly face. Sending him and his brothers after Ed would only end in more bloodshed. I couldn't risk their lives, and I definitely couldn't risk dad's when Klamath retaliated.

I took a deep breath. Please, please listen this time. Please.

“Rabid, look, I can handle this. I've been paying these creeps for years. Ed only shows up to collect when I start to fall behind, like I said. If I keep the money coming, he leaves me alone.”

“You can't. Shit, babe, I saw the way you're struggling when Missy handed you that cash when she came for her sis. You fucking needed it bad.” He paused, and I lowered my eyes.

Shameful. Was I that easy to read, or was this man just that tuned into me?

“Besides, no club gives debtors an extension without a damned good reason. We're outlaws. When we loan money, there's interest in blood and broken bones. Defaulting's a fucking death sentence,” he said, shaking his head. “Baby, you're smart and I'm not gonna treat you like a damned fool. But you're playing with fire here. I'm telling you straight up, this shit's more than you can handle. You're gonna get burned sooner or later if you piss these guys off.”

“Don't you think I know that?” I snapped, jerking away from him.

Rabid wasn't taking any shit. He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me close. My face burned. I couldn't tell if the blush in my cheeks was hotter, or if it was the pulse pounding in my temples.

He sure had a knack for making me angry, ashamed, and totally aroused all at once. Three big As crashing through my system simultaneously, hurtling toward overload.

“Of course you do,” he thundered in my ear, low and dangerous and so damned close. “You held up like a serious hardass after what Fang did to you. Fuck, after that ordeal, we're the ones who owe you. Granted, it's hard as hell to make the fucks up in Oregon listen to anything right now. I'm talking to Blackjack tomorrow. I'm gonna demand he twists those fuckers' balls 'til your debt's wiped clear. Every charter might have its own business, but you're in our territory. We're the mother charter, dammit, and we run the whole show now.”

No amount of determination in his voice meant this was any less insane. The reality was something different. The MC was still at war with itself and the Mexican cartels. Rabid's men needed help from their old rivals, the Prairie Devils, just to topple Fang once and for all. They were in no position to wish my six figure debt away without some serious consequences.

I shook my head so hard it was dizzying. “I'm the one who made the mistakes that landed me in debt. Me, Rabid, nobody else. I'm the only one who should pay.” My scars were burning. It always happened when I forced back tears, leaving me to wonder if my skin would ever totally heal. “You saw what kind of man Ed is. He won't just drop it. He won't be bossed around, and neither will the other men up north. I met them all when they came to my bar. Jesus, if I could take it all back, I would! I never would've run off and acted like a stupid kid!”

“That's life, baby. We all fuck up sometimes. That doesn't mean you gotta let the past eat you alive. This shit's not like filing Chapter Seven, and you know it. The Klamath fucks won't let you have a second chance 'til you're so worn and beaten, it's no chance at all. That's the fucking problem, and that's why I'm not gonna let them get away with it.”

He paused. I gasped and shuddered when I felt the hardness between his legs. I'd been leaning into him, and he was like a rock, crazy with desire. We were so alone and isolated out here. Anything could happen if I let it.

I turned to face him, wishing my face didn't look like a scratched up tomato. He was even more insane than I thought if he was seriously attracted to this. I had nothing to offer him but trouble, a damaged body and a rotten past I hadn't figured out how to reconcile.

And I hadn't even told him about poor dad.

Jesus, he was so hard. The thick, throbbing lump in Rabid's pants was a terrible distraction. I should've spit in his face for inserting himself into my life like this, totally uninvited, but all I really wanted to do was drop to my knees and feel his cock in my mouth.

His eyes burned fiercer than the stars overhead. When my eyes caressed his body, I imagined what his tattoos looked like underneath his clothes. Those big black stripes on his arms probably rolled all the way up, lining the fearsome icons on his chest like all the other bikers I'd seen shirtless.

This body invited questions, filthy curiosities and wonders, and bathed my brain in fire.

Would he look more ferocious than the roaring bear inked on his chest when he fucked me? Would I suck his tattooed skin into my mouth and bite down hard when I came? Jesus, would I ever stand up again if I gave in to one night with this dark Adonis pretending to be a man?

Half the guys in the Redding Grizzlies charter were younger, harder, and hotter than most of the old bastards and greasy criminals who'd visited my bar in Klamath. Without the leather cut and a few less scars on his arms, the man with his hands sliding up my back would've looked like an underwear model.

But no pretty boy modeling ever smelled like this. I couldn't stop inhaling him, and that only made my breaths more erratic, betraying the insane desire I was desperate to hide.

No! I couldn't actually let him see how hot he made me. But I couldn't stop myself from shaking when I pushed my face into his chest and inhaled, filling my lungs with badly needed oxygen.

Pure masculinity caressed my nose. His feel, his smell, his everything burned deep, melting me from the inside-out.

My body understood, even if my mind didn't. This was a warrior man right down to every molecule. Loyal to his club, comrade to his brothers, ready to serve and protect me when I wanted none of it. Also, more than ready to slip inside me, making my body shake and scream in ways I'd never even heard of.

Fuck.

“What? What the fuck is it?” he growled, his hot breath pouring across my neck and up my ear again.

Too much. I pushed against his chest, stumbling backward in the night. The jerky motion combined with the sudden breeze blowing in behind me, forcing me to realize how tingly and wet I'd become.

Holy, holy shit. I hadn't been this soaked for a man since...I couldn't even remember. Probably ever.

“I need to go home, Rabid. It's getting late.” My words were so weak. “Can't we be done here?”

He straightened up, turned toward his bike – a little too fast for my liking. I couldn't tell if he was disappointed I hadn't broken the tension with a kiss, or if he was just trying to hide the wicked hard-on pounding in his denim.

“Sure. Let's go. We're finished as far as I'm concerned.” Without looking back, he headed for the bike.

I took one last look at all the old buildings. Seriously, what was this place? It's like he knew this abandoned farm.

“Rabid...” I whispered his name a couple more times as he handed me my helmet. Great, now I was feeling bad about acting like such a bitch.

“Don't, baby. This shit's not about wounded egos or who's right – hell, or even who's been wrong in the past. You told me the truth. That's what I really wanted tonight. The rest is up to me.”

The last part was unmistakably sincere. Ouch. The fact I'd told him enough without coming completely clean about Ed's threats, my dad, and so much more just drove a stake through my heart. For a second, I considered coughing up the rest – but what good would it do?

He knew I was hurting and in danger. If he knew Ed threatened my helpless father too, Rabid was just as likely to go off alone, ready to kill without any backup.

The future was dark with certainty now. Rabid and his brothers were going to clash with the assholes blackmailing me. It was bound to end in blood. All I could do was watch, and try to keep myself, and the tiny collection of people I still cared about, safe.

“You don't have to do anything,” I said. God, I sounded so feeble.

It was all I had. One last desperate attempt to convince him not to fight my battles. Too bad I couldn't convince myself I'd ever be able to fight them on my own. Big Ed had a cannon pointed at my face, and I was holding a slingshot.

“I said thanks. Now, get the fuck on so I can drive you home. It's a beautiful night.” He was staring up at the sky, a serene look on his handsome face that didn't match the frustration in his voice. “Everything's gonna be okay, baby, because I'm gonna make it that way. You just worry about being the best damned tutor in the city limits and figure out what else you wanna do with your life. I'll make sure the shits up in Oregon leave you the fuck alone so you can have that chance.”

Awkward. Brutal. That was the return trip to Redding.

The bitter, gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach just wouldn't go away. I'd just unleashed pure hell, and there was no putting it back in its box.

And that was only half the problem. I couldn't stop thinking about the lost opportunity beneath the stars to taste his lips, if only once. My hands clung tight to his waist, harder than I really needed to keep myself steady on the highway.

We were parked next to my apartment when I ripped the helmet off. Rabid waited for me to go, no doubt eager to be done with this miserable night. Instinct had something else in mind.

Emotions broke loose in a torrent. I couldn't control myself anymore as I climbed off the Harley, and then threw my arms around his neck before he could pull away. Smashing my lips against his caused such a raw surge in every nerve I almost passed out.

Time stopped, lost to the fire consuming us. It only took him half a second to react. He grabbed me, jerked my red locks tight in one fist, securing my face for his kiss. The full force of his lips swept me away like a lightning strike.

For one sweet second, there was total clarity. I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except taste him. I became the thudding beat in my chest and the molten desire in my veins. Desire opened up like a bottomless pit and swallowed my ego whole.

His tongue pushed past my lips, opening me, exploring the rampant desire we shared to go deeper.

Deeper.

The very word set off an earthquake in my head, and it spread through my body. I was tingling and starting to shake all over as my blown out senses came back. God, he tasted good. I could've stayed locked to him forever, hands splayed on his chest, scratching with need to find out how those sculpted muscles really felt underneath my palms.

More questions. More curiosities. More dirty, nasty want.

Would he growl into my mouth like this while I straddled him, riding his cock? How hard would he shame every boy I'd ever been with? Would I forget about the ugly scars on my face and all the fucked up insecurities with my clit burning against his skin, sending me to sheer ecstasy, where nothing else mattered?

“Baby. Fuck.” He snarled his words, lust incarnate, when I tore my head away from his, breaking the kiss.

I had to move faster to shatter his grasp. The wildfire in my body broke inside my brain, silenced by the questions and confusion raging through me.

What the fuck was I doing? The inevitable freak out came.

Panic, fierce and relentless as the desire I'd had a second ago.

I broke and ran. He called after me, but even the fire in his voice couldn't stop me.

I turned my pocket inside-out pulling at my keys. Shoving them into the lock, I flipped open the door, and pressed myself flat against the wall inside. About a minute later, I heard his motorcycle's explosive roar, growling into the distance with as much feral disappointment as I had shaking me to pieces.

I pushed past an idiot with a basket full of clothes, wet shame running down my cheeks, and collapsed inside my apartment. I was too fried to think. What happened at the abandoned ranch blew all my fuses, and the kiss outside ruined them for good.

Tomorrow, I told myself I'd make one last ditch effort at moving my father downstate and disappearing for good. He had enough left in his pension and savings to make sure he was taken care of. I didn't care if I ended up homeless.

At least no one would die thanks to my poisonous debt. And I'd never have to think about waking up to Rabid some morning and seeing the disappointment on his face as he realized how fucked up I really was.

He'd never get anything but a fling with a crazy, pockmarked bitch like me. And I wouldn't even do that to either of us. I'd rather run like a fucking coward, leaving everything behind.

It was all the mercy I could offer this man who'd tried his damnedest to help me. I wouldn't infect him with the same toxic regret I lived every day – just like I wouldn't open my heart to this big, demanding, tattooed sledgehammer.

Ruin was his nature. Mine was making sure I didn't absorb any more savagery from anyone on a Harley. It didn't matter if hurt came wrapped in fierce commands and the most lickable skin I'd ever seen mounted to two wheels.

He was all pain, and I was too fucked up to absorb it. I couldn't. I had to go.

* * *

The next day, I woke with a pounding headache. Going through two hours of run around at the nursing home didn't help.

The bitchy administrators did everything in their power to stonewall my questions about moving him. Wasn't hard to see they were hellbent on keeping him there forever, anything to bleed what little remained dry.

Around noon, I stormed out. It was visiting time anyway, and for once I was looking forward to sitting down with my father after dealing with this shit. It might take my mind off the fact we were both in serious danger as soon as Rabid's promises got to Big Ed.

Dad slumped in his wheelchair near the usual window when I found him. He woke up groggy, irritated, just as confused as ever. I reached for his hand, warming his cold skin with mine.

“We're going to take a nice trip soon, dad. Somewhere warmer, better,” I purred, trying to soothe him as much as myself. “I just have to work out the nitty-gritty. I promise, I'm going to keep you safe.”

His eyes lit up. For a second, I swore he knew exactly who I was, and he sat up straight in his chair, reaching for my face.

“Why do you go through so much trouble for an old man? This place's downright tropical, girl. You know how fucking cold it got hauling salmon and crab into Anchorage?”

I laughed. I remembered exactly how brutal Alaska used to be during the cold months. Yeah, something had definitely given him back his wits today.

“Those were great times, dad. Sometimes, I wish we never left. I wish we hadn't moved here. Alaska might've kept me grounded. I wouldn't have run off and gotten into trouble because there was nowhere to run off to.”

He blinked. “You kill trouble. Me and my brothers used to raise pure hell in the Killers. This one time, the Prez asked us to do in this fat little bully. Bastard was a fisherman like me, he brought his crap north from the west coast to sell, ice and heroin. Nothing our crew wanted anything to do with. He liked to beat his wife too.”

I swallowed, wondering if he'd plug the last few holes in his memories. Jesus, I hadn't thought of this story myself for several years. I hoped nobody heard him, or if they did, it was just crazy enough to chalk up to the ramblings of an old man out of his mind.

Dad blinked again, and a knowing smile spread across his lips. “We never enjoyed putting the sickos down like hogs. This one, I did, because he led me to the woman who changed my whole damned life. Did you ever meet my wife, Aida?”

“Maybe a couple times,” I whispered. “You know we go way back.”

“Yeah...I thought you looked familiar. My memory's not what it used to be.” He cocked his head, seriously trying to remember who I was for a minute before giving up. “Anyway, my Aida was just a bruised, beat up, shaken little thing when I first met her. Didn't have a damned clue she'd end up becoming the best old lady a man could ever have – the best wife. She gave me a little girl before the sea took her home to heaven.”

My breaths were slower, shallower. That stupid headache hit its apex and finally began to wane, draining in the emotional climax this conversation was bringing. Why did his best days have to correspond to my worst?

“You don't worry about taking me anywhere, nurse.” He reached over, gingerly patting my hand. “You can't run from what life gives ya. You gotta take it by the horns – the good, the bad, everything. Moving me out of this place won't bring me any closer to my girl. She's waiting for me when it's my time. And my Christa's out there too. She's such a restless girl.” He stopped, taking a good long look at me. “You look a lot like her, you know that? Gorgeous red hair – just like hers.”

I turned away. My head was spinning, and the tears were coming. I wiped them, refusing to face him, trying to focus on his words. It was better than thinking about the hell, the disappointment, the wall I'd thrown up against Rabid.

“I don't deserve to look like anyone you love. I've made too many fucking mistakes for that.” It all came rolling out. “I wish I could be the girl you're imagining.”

I shouldn't have expected him to have any clue what I was getting at. But when he squeezed my hand and I met his eyes, I believed he knew I was his daughter. There was dear old dad, the headstrong badass, always ready to support me against the worst the world had to offer.

I still hadn't gotten over the fact that I'd taken his money too for that stupid bar.

“You can't keep living your life with regrets, girl. I beat myself up for a long time over the shipwreck that took my wife. If I'd called off our anniversary surprise and hadn't sailed into that fucking storm, my little girl wouldn't have lost her mother before she could even know her.” He sighed. “I did some seriously reckless shit. I drank myself stupid. I rode long and hard up the Dalton Highway north of Fairbanks. My brothers in the MC knocked me down and drove some sense into my head before it was too late. Realized I had my daughter, and Aida in my heart. When it finally sunk in, I couldn't do anything but live without looking behind me.”

Wise words. Wise, and obscenely painful just now. It wasn't just the disease in his brain talking either. The dad I knew always looked forward, never at the darkness in his wake.

That was why we'd come to Redding. He was too old to work in fishing anymore, and his old MC mostly dissolved. Too many good men lost, strong men I'd called uncles growing up.

We wanted to experience the world beyond pitch black winters and bitter cold. He wanted to give me a better life, a chance at college, a place to settle down and build something.

Maybe the fact that I'd blown it all to shit didn't really matter. I still appreciated everything he'd done, and damn it, he was right.

So was Rabid.

I couldn't keep living in constant fear. Terror sat heavy on my shoulders now that the Grizzles were about to butt heads over my debt, but something was always bound to give sooner or later.

“Hey. You feeling better, girl? Don't tell me you're going to go out and waste another summer day on me. I'm an old man. It's your turn to have your place in the sun while you're young and pretty. I won't be responsible for wasting it. Time's more precious than you know. You understand me, Christa?”

My jaw practically hit the floor. My hands were shaking as they wrapped around his, and it took a long time to force down the lump in my throat. Too long.

“Dad...you know who I am?”

He paused, his eyes darkening a little more than I liked. “Of course I do! You're that nice new hire they transferred in from Sacramento, aren't you?”

Over and done. Just like that. Slowly, I pulled my hands back, and then gave him one last pat on the shoulder as I rose.

“We'll visit next week. Same time. Same place.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I sure hope so. Tell them to get me a new razor on your way out, dear. Fucking things never last more than a month or two.”

“I can do that.” Smiling, I headed out, into the waiting sun.

Dad went through electric razors like nobody's business. He'd lost his mind and a lot of muscle, but his hands were still strong. The cheap blades wore down with how hard he pressed them to his face. Soon, it probably wouldn't be an issue, whenever he reached the point where he couldn't shave anymore.

He'd done the same thing sometimes at home, especially the older he got. Thick hair, he said, from too many years living a hard life in the cold. I believed he ran them too long because the whir of the blades reminded him of his motorcycle's growl.