“Details,” Eva whispered, leaning across the kitchen counter. “I want them.”

It had been almost two weeks since my arrival in Miles City, and the first time coming back to the clubhouse since Hawk had been brought home. This morning I’d woken up to Tegen and Cage and their usual bickering. Unable to stand one more second of it, I’d quickly showered and dressed, made sure Hawk was comfortable, and made a mad dash to the clubhouse.

At first I was glad to find Eva hanging around and, always happy to spend time with her, I’d offered to make us both lunch. Until she’d begun badgering me for information.

Now, I was just annoyed. Unlike Kami, I wasn’t easily able to divulge the details of my romantic life, not even to the woman I considered my best friend.

Trying desperately not to blush, I feigned interest in the salad I was preparing in order to continue ignoring her.

“Sheesh, Dorothy, you’ve got to give me something. You have that big and sexy man laid up in bed, and I know you’ve kissed and made up. Cage said so.”

“What?” I shrieked, slamming the wooden spoon in my hand down on the counter. “He’s been spying on me?”

Eva jumped upright and did a strange celebratory dance that consisted of her shaking her backside and waving her arms in the air. It looked awkward and downright awful, and I made a mental note to tell her to never ever to do it again.

“I knew it!” she squealed, still dancing. “I knew it!”

“You tricked me!”

She shrugged as she grinned, and I sighed in defeat.

“Fine,” I said shortly. “We’ve . . . kissed. That’s it.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered dramatically. “Dorothy, what am I going to do with you? Who am I going to live vicariously through? Kami isn’t having sex and you’re not either, and my life consists of a cranky toddler, a twelve-year-old who thinks she’s twenty-six, and a husband who takes heart medication.”

“Join the club,” I said and sighed again. “My life usually consists of a seven-year-old who wants to be either a biker or a professional paint gun warrior. But lately it’s been full of my daughter and her husband who fight more than they don’t, and honestly, I don’t know why Tegen doesn’t just get a job at the local paper instead of struggling with the publishing industry. I don’t know how much longer I can take being in the same house with them. Hawk is supposed to be healing, but I don’t know how much healing can happen in a house that volatile.”

My daughter was a feisty one; there was no doubt about it. Belligerent and demonstrative would be putting it mildly. Tegen took opinionated to an entirely new level, and would fight to the death regardless if she was right or wrong. There were times I’d spent with her and Cage that I was truly perplexed by their interaction with each other. Always fighting, either yelling or refusing to speak to each other, yet at the same time they seemed to balance each other. It was an odd dynamic, but one that apparently worked.

I had to give Cage credit, though. Anyone who could put up with Tegen’s regular blowups and her usually crude demeanor either loved her fiercely or was a glutton for punishment. Knowing Cage as well as I did, I had no doubt it was the former. But even knowing this didn’t mean I wanted to bear witness to their unique way of showing their love for each other.

As for Hawk and me, there wasn’t much privacy to do . . . well, to do anything at all.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep, calming breath that did nothing to soothe my strained nerves. I wasn’t used to this . . . this . . . constant disruption anymore. I’d had a quiet, predictable life in San Francisco and now that I was back in Miles City, it was anything but quiet.

“And Hawk,” Eva added. “Your life consists of Hawk now too.”

“When didn’t it?” I quipped.

“Dooooorthy . . .” Eva purposely dragged out my name in a childlike whine.

“Evvvvvvaaaaaa . . . ,” I said, mimicking her.

“Dooooorthy . . . ,” she repeated.

“Okay, fine,” I snapped, dropping the spoon. It clattered to the countertop as I glared at her. “The truth is I haven’t had sex since Jase and I were still together, about mid-pregnancy. And to be honest, I’m terrified!”

To my surprise, Eva didn’t seem the least bit shocked by my revelation, instead she looked a little smug, as if she’d expected this answer from me. I didn’t know whether to be hurt that she’d tricked me once again, or elated that she knew me well enough and cared about me to the extent where she’d taken the time to really know me. To see past the walls I’d built around myself.

“You know what you need?” she asked. Placing her elbows down on the counter, Eva rested her chin in her palms and regarded me with a serious expression.

I shook my head. Had I ever known what I needed? Internally, I scoffed. No, I most certainly had not.

“What?” I asked hesitantly, not sure I really wanted to know what Eva had in store for me.

“Wild pussy,” Eva said solemnly.

I arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Wild pussy,” Eva repeated. “You need to just take control. Forget about everything else—the past, your fears—forget about everything but you and Hawk and what you want. But mostly about what you want to do to him,” she finished with a sly grin.

“I’m not wild . . . pussy,” I said, stumbling over the last word and feeling my face heat. Desperately, I tried searching for a word that adequately described exactly what I was and came up empty. “I’m . . . dusty pussy,” I finished with a sigh, feeling ridiculous.

Eva’s face went slack as she gave me an exaggerated look of dismay. “You’re in your forties, Dorothy, not dead! So go home, kick your daughter out of the house, go upstairs, get naked, and fuck your man!”

“He can barely walk!” I hissed.

“He doesn’t need his leg for this!” she hissed back.

“He’ll need his third leg,” a new voice chimed in.

Eva and I both looked up to find Christina, Bucket’s heavily tattooed girlfriend, staggering through the kitchen’s swinging doors. Wearing only a black bra, a matching thong, and a pair of blood-red stiletto heels, she traipsed heavily across the linoleum before collapsing into the nearest chair.

Christina looked more haggard than I’d ever seen her before, with her long black hair a snarled mess, her dark makeup smudged around her eyes, giving her a raccoon appearance, and her red lipstick looking as though it had been forcefully smeared off her mouth and up her cheek.

I raised an eyebrow at Eva who, with a roll of her eyes, shook her head.

“So whose third leg are we talking about?” Christina asked.

“Hawk’s,” Eva answered, and flashed me a grin that I returned with a silent snarl.

“Oh,” Christina said, sounding bored. “Just hitch up that saddle and ride, girl, ride.”

“See,” Eva said smartly. “Told you.”

“It’s not that easy,” I protested.

“Why the fuck not?” Christina exclaimed. “I mean, it’s not as if you haven’t taken that ride before. Seriously, D, how long were you jerkin’ that joystick behind Jase’s back? Five, ten years? The whole damn time?”

My mouth fell open. I’d forgotten just how crude Christina could be. She had no filter, no reservations, and had always been more like one of the boys than any other woman associated with the club. In fact, she was a lot like my own daughter, aside from the fact that Tegen would never be caught dead parading around the clubhouse in lacy underwear and high heels.

Actually, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that most of the women associated with the club were a lot like Christina. With the exception of a few, they were hard women with battle-ax personalities, essentially strong enough to take on the kind of men who became part of Deuce’s crew.

How on earth had I ended up here?

While I might have been cheating on my husband with a married man, and later, engaging in a sexual relationship behind my lover’s back, as far as the club’s female standards went, I was exceptionally tame. A gazelle thrown into a pit of lions who’d somehow managed to survive.

Although not necessarily unscathed, but I’d survived nonetheless. Life sure did throw you some interesting curveballs sometimes.

“What are you thinking about in that crazy brain of yours now, Dorothy?”

I looked up at Eva, shaking free of my thoughts, and shrugged. “Just . . . you know, how in the world I ended up here.”

Eva smiled, one of her wide, warm smiles that made you feel like she knew things that others didn’t. I both hated and loved that about her, the way she could light up a room with just a simple word or smile.

“You ended up here,” she said, “because here is where you belong. It may not always be pretty, in fact sometimes life can be downright ugly, but everything happens for a reason, Dorothy. Everything.”

Her words were nearly identical to Hawk’s, and something I’d once said to Tegen in order to ease her nerves. Although I’d never been a big believer in fate or destiny, I couldn’t help but think that maybe there was some truth to it. Even Hawk had admitted that he’d made mistakes.

Yet . . . maybe our mistakes were what led us to where we were supposed to be all along. Was it possible that without our mistakes, we wouldn’t have become the people we were meant to be? And if we hadn’t made the choices we made, what would have become of us all?

Would we still have somehow ended up in the same place?

Oh good God, my head was starting to hurt. This line of thinking reminded me very much of my childhood, when my parents had tried to instill religion in me and I fought tooth and nail against it. I might have been very much a romantic, but when it came to blind faith, I’d always needed hard proof, something they could never give me.

But maybe love was a lot like blind faith in the unknown. And maybe that was why it had been so hard for me to let go of what I’d known, instead of moving toward what I’d really wanted.

“Will you two lovesick twats get your mind off your men?” Christina suddenly snapped. “You’re both making me sick.”

“I think your excessive drinking is what’s making you sick,” Eva said dryly.

“Speaking of making me sick,” she continued, giving Eva a pointed look. “One of you bitches needs to call that little dog off Cox before Kami comes in and sees what the fuck her man has been up to.”

My brow furrowed. “What does Cox and Kami’s relationship have to do with you feeling sick?”

“Yeah,” Eva added. “And since when do you care about what the boys do?”

“Since this happened,” she said, flipping us both off. Eva and I both leaned forward for a better look. Seated on her middle finger was rather extravagant diamond.

“Congratulations!” Eva exclaimed with a jump and a clap. “When did that happen?”

“Last night,” she said blandly. “Damn thing don’t fit the right finger either.”

Well, that explained the walk of shame. They must have had a very celebratory night together. And knowing Bucket as well as I did, celebrations for him usually consisted of a harem of women with Christina barking out the orders.

“It’s easy to get it sized,” I suggested.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s a pain in my ass. But back to my point. I don’t appreciate these little mutts sniffing out the club for our men. I told Bucket, no more girls now that we’re engaged.”

She seemed so happy—well, as happy as Christina could seem—that I just didn’t have the heart to tell her that nobody ever sought out Bucket. His haggard appearance and his lack of cleanliness meant all his girls were usually bought and paid for. Dirty, another club member, had been the same way before his girlfriend, Ellie, had inspired a makeover, and together he, Bucket, and Freebird were three of the most unappealing men I’d ever met. Unkempt, ungroomed, usually filthy, and always acting or saying something absolutely disgusting.

“That girl out there is spouting off to Cox about taking her out to dinner, and going home to meet her parents. Seriously, D, go look at this shit. She’s all up on him like a fucking fat little dog in heat, and I’m about to go slap her down. I’m a legit old lady now, and if I ever catch her sniffin’ round my man . . .” Trailing off, Christina pursed her lipstick-smeared lips and waved a razor-sharp red fingernail in the air. “No. Just no. She needs to know her place and fast.”

“Ugh,” Eva muttered. “I’m not in the mood to be schooling club rats with their eyes on the prize.”

“But isn’t that your job?” I jested. “God knows you don’t have better things to be doing like being a mother or a wife or . . .”

“Right?” she said. “Because in my free time I love teaching loose women the ways of the club world, the dos and don’ts when it comes to our men. Rule number one: Don’t flirt in front of the wife. Rule number two: Don’t try to go down on him in front of the wife. Rule number three: Definitely don’t cry in front of the wife when he tells you not to go down on him in front of his wife.”

There was a time in my life when the bitter truth of Eva’s remarks would have offended me, probably to the point of tears even. But I was anything but offended; after all, crudeness aside, it was the truth and I’d lived that truth.

“I’ll talk to her,” I said with a sigh. “What’s her name?”

“Lucy,” Christina offered. “Just like her vag. Which is why Cox is always fuckin’ her up the ass. And speaking of ass, I gotta take a shit.” Using the table for support, she pushed herself up from her chair and tottered for a moment on her heels before regaining her balance.

“Way too much information, Christina,” I muttered, walking quickly from the kitchen. “Way, way, way too much information.”

I found Cox sitting at the bar among a few of the other boys: Chips, Worm, and Danny D. And Lucy was right where Christina had said she’d be: hanging off Cox.

As I headed toward them, I noted the similarities between Lucy and me when I’d first started coming to the club. She was young, early twenties, and shorter than average, as were her looks. If she didn’t have so much makeup on, if her dark hair weren’t cut so dramatically, she would undoubtedly appear plain, cute at best. And she was clinging to a married man she had absolutely no chance at having a substantial relationship with outside of meaningless sex, gazing up at him like he was everything she’d ever wanted, ever dreamed of finding in a man, and could do no wrong.

Cox. Do no wrong. Good God, what was wrong with this girl?

It was all so painfully familiar. The closer I drew to the bar, an odd feeling washed over me, a sense of déjà vu, and then all at once I was struck with a memory . . .

• • •

“Wat up, little D?” Ripper had greeted me with a grin, holding his arm out in welcome.

Although I had still been feeling the sting of rejection from earlier, the same feeling I was always left with when Jase went home to his wife, I had slipped into Ripper’s embrace and felt my anxiety begin to ebb. The club, the boys, they had that effect on me, giving me a sense of comfort and safety when the rest of my world was nothing but turmoil.

“Nothing’s up,” I had said, returning his hug. How could I not? He was so incredibly good looking. He was young, with long blond hair that had a touch of waviness, flawless golden skin molded tightly over an incredible bone structure, and an equally stunning body.

“Where’s my hug, bitch?” Cox called out. Ripper’s partner in both crime and humor gestured for me to come to him. Currently shirtless, his heavily tattooed and pierced body on display, the handsome Latino waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “Last time I hugged you, you grabbed my ass.”

Cox’s grin grew. “It ain’t really fair that only Jase gets a piece. Gotta sample somehow, yeah?”

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

Realizing I wasn’t in the mood to be groped, Cox dropped his arm, and a scowl replaced his smile.

“Dude,” he grumbled, pounding his fist on the bar. “That’s twice now I’ve been rejected. Pass the fuckin’ Jack.”

“We’re back to this shit again?” Blue asked. Sitting at his usual corner of the bar, Blue grabbed the bottle of liquor off the counter and tucked it inside his leather cut. Behind his long white beard, Blue’s wrinkled lips curled into a smile, his milky-white eyes sparkling with youthful humor.

Nobody knew Blue’s true age, but not even the oldest of the brothers had ever known Blue without a full head of long white hair and an equally white beard. But despite his age, he could hold his own and liked to prove as much by drinking far more than anyone, young or old, ever should.

“Fuckin’ greedy old man,” Cox muttered. “Can’t you see I’m fuckin’ grievin’ over here’?”

Blue lifted a bushy white eyebrow. “Shut up, you idiot. You ain’t grievin’, you’re fuckin’ poutin’ like a goddamn baby.”

Confused, I glanced between the three men. “What happened?” I asked.

“Nothin’!” Ripper said, laughing. “Fuckface here is still pissed Kami walked out on us in the middle of the night.”

Cox snapped into an upright position. “Fuck her!” he yelled. “FUCK HER!”

I rolled my eyes again. It had been several weeks since Eva Fox, the twenty-two-year-old daughter of the Silver Demons MC president, had shown up out of nowhere, her friend Kami in tow. Eva, who had a history with Deuce, had headed straight for him, and Kami had ended up spending three days in bed with Cox and Ripper. Then both women had just up and split in the middle of the night. Cox, who’d never been walked out on before in his life since he always did the leaving, wasn’t handling it very well. And judging by the rage fest currently going on inside Deuce’s office with loud cursing and crashes, accompanied by loud female moaning, Deuce wasn’t handling it at all.

Actually, no one had liked what had happened. In the short time she’d been here, I’d enjoyed Eva’s company immensely. Not once had she treated me like anything less than her equal. Most of the boys’ families, their wives and children, paid very little attention to me, if any at all. In order to keep my relationship with Jase a secret, only known among the boys and the club groupies, I too was labeled a groupie, and was therefore considered persona non grata, not worthy of them. I wasn’t an old lady, therefore, to them I was nothing. Nothing but a whore.

It had been so nice to be able to talk with another woman at the club, one who wasn’t here for the sole purpose of spreading her legs. Eva was respected for being Preacher’s daughter, and even holding that position she had still treated me with dignity. I could only imagine the differences between the Demons MC and the Horsemen. The club whores in Eva’s care were probably treated better than the old ladies.

But the biggest difference her arrival had brought about had been in Deuce. During those three days, he’d been a different man. His permanent scowl had lifted, he’d been the bearer of jokes and smiles, he’d been happy. And when Deuce was happy, the club was happy.

Now that Eva was gone, Deuce was miserable, and so was everyone else.

Except Ripper. As usual, he wasn’t bothered by any of it, didn’t have a care in the world, and was laughing manically at Cox’s sour expression.

“She’s a stuck-up, spoiled fuckin’ bitch,” Cox continued. “It’s ’cause I’m Puerto Rican. She’s a fuckin Rican hater. Don’t got no appreciation for dark meat.”

“Get a fuckin’ grip,” Ripper said. “You sound like a little bitch.”

“Wait,” Blue said. “You mean to tell me, you’re not Mexican?” The old man shook his head. “And all this time I was over here thinkin’ ya were.”

Cox’s eyes went wide but just as his mouth opened, one of Deuce’s double office doors swung open, crashing loudly against the wall and cutting off whatever nonsense was going to come out of Cox’s mouth.

The four of us turned, watching as Deuce came storming out into the room, his cut in his hand and his leathers unbuttoned, hanging open in the front. Miranda, Deuce’s usual girl, came sauntering out next. Taking a seat at the bar, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from inside her low-cut top, placed one between her plump pink lips, and lit it up.

Miranda might be considered beautiful to some, all long legs and a luxurious mane of blonde hair, but I found the woman more trashy than anything else. Even so, I kept my feelings to myself. I was in no position to express my dislike for Deuce’s taste in extracurricular activities. Not when most people viewed me as an extracurricular activity as well.

“You assholes plan on doin’ fuckin’ anything today?” Deuce yelled as he stalked past us. “Or you just gonna sit on your fuckin’ asses, drinkin’ my motherfuckin’ booze?”

No one said a word, just watching in silence as he stomped across the room. He had nearly rounded the corner when he stopped suddenly and turned.

“Barbeque tomorrow,” he growled. “You cookin’, D?”

Startled, I could only nod in response. With an answering nod, Deuce disappeared.

“He’s hurtin’.” Blue nodded in the direction Deuce had gone. “Little girl shows up outta nowhere, and the two of ’em already got fuckin’ history. She’s tellin’ him she loves him, givin’ him a taste of what he’s always wanted, and then poof, she’s fuckin’ gone.”

“What the fuck you talkin’ ’bout?” Cox asked. “You tryin’ to tell me Prez is hard up for Demon pussy?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Miranda snorted, shaking her head. Leaning forward across the countertop, her breasts pushed up clear to her chin. “He doesn’t give two shits about that little girl.”

Ignoring her, Blue looked to Cox. “You a fuckin’ dumbass? Preacher told him if he touches Eva again, he’s takin’ him to ground. So what does he do? He touches her again. And again. I call that hard-fuckin’-up.”

“Then, fuck her too,” Cox growled.

“Hello?” Miranda called out, sounding annoyed. “Anybody home? Eva was a dick distraction is all. Nothing more.”

Blue, looking exasperated, turned his attention to Miranda and gave her a toothless condescending smile. “You mean to tell me that if Eva Fox marched her sweet little ass back inside this club right this second, Deuce wouldn’t drop you like a burnin’ hot potato and take her straight to bed?”

Miranda’s posture went rigid, her expression hostile, but she said nothing.

Blue shrugged unapologetically. “Might be an old man, might not know what fuckin’ year it is, but I know real when I see it and Deuce and Eva, that was some real shit. You’re the distraction, girl. Best get your head screwed on straight ’fore you fuckin’ lose what little brains you got left up in there.”

I slapped my hand over my mouth, attempting to stifle my laughter, but I was too late. Everyone had heard me.

“What are you laughing at?” Miranda demanded, her nostrils flaring with anger. “You’re no better than I am! You want to talk about what’s real, Dorothy? Jase and Chrissy’s marriage, that’s real!”

My stomach did a nervous flip, bringing all my insecurities boiling back up to the surface, and my smile slipped from my face, falling away alongside my hand.

I knew I wasn’t like Miranda, was nothing like her. She didn’t love Deuce; she only loved what she could gain from being with him. I loved Jase, loved him with all my heart. And he’d promised me he would eventually leave his wife.

But . . . if all that were really true, why did a meaningless insult from a woman like Miranda have the ability to wound me?

With a satisfied smile, Miranda slid off her bar stool. “It’s about time you learned your place here,” she spat. Spinning on her heel, she marched quickly across the room, disappearing down the same hallway Deuce had.

“Pay no attention to that one,” Blue called out. “She ain’t ever cared ’bout nothin’ but climbin’ the ranks in the club. You ain’t her, Dorothy, you hear me, girl? You ain’t like her. I know good people when I see ’em, and I ain’t never seen nothin’ but good from you.”

“Yeah, fuck her, D.” Ripper gave me another friendly squeeze. “She ain’t got a clue what’s she’s spoutin’ off about.”

“Fuck ’em all,” Cox grumbled. “Especially Kami. Stupid bitch.”

“Goddamn, dude, you’re actually feelin’ that stuck-up, good-for-nothin’-but-fuckin’ piece of New York ass?”

Cox glared at him. “You gonna try and tell me you didn’t?”

Ripper shrugged. “Kami’s a fuckin’ party. Bitch like that ain’t good for much else. ’Sides, she’s too fuckin’ skinny. Gotta have somethin’ to grab, yeah? Fuckin’ anything at all. And that bitch ain’t got nothin’.”

“Then why the fuck was I sharin’ her with your dumb ass?”

Ripper looked affronted. “Brother, I don’t pass up hot bitches offerin’ up free parties.”

“Fuck off and die.”

“You first, asshat.”

As the two of them had continued their usual arguing and incessant bickering, a new smile began to form and I’d felt myself relaxing once again. If anyone could make me forget my problems, it was the boys. Especially these two clowns.

“Why don’t ya both fuck off and die, and lemme finish drinkin’ in peace!” Blue had yelled.

“Is that even possible?” Cox had asked. “I mean, dude, do you ever finish drinkin’?”

Later that evening, after a day of heavy drinking and feeling sorry for myself, I’d ended up drunk and alone at the bar. Just as I was getting ready to call it a night and head to Jase’s room, a large figure stepped out of the shadows.

“Ain’t no fun drinkin’ alone.”

“Hawk!” I exclaimed, putting my hand over my heart. “You scared me!”

Stone faced, Hawk continued his stride toward the bar. Sliding into the seat beside me, he gestured toward the row of bottles on the shelf.

“I’ll have two of whatever you’re havin’.”

And then he smiled.

It was the first time I’d ever seen him smile.

• • •

“Wat up little, D?” Cox called out, bringing me back to the present. “You need a drink, darlin’?”

I smiled and shook my head. “Just need to borrow Lucy for a moment.”

Lucy’s head emerged from Cox’s neck, her lips swollen from fervent kisses. She gave me a confused look and asked, “Me? Why?”

I shrugged. “Just wanted to talk.”

“Go talk,” Cox encouraged her, then over her head mouthed, Thank you, thank you, thank you, rather emphatically.

As Lucy reached me, I looped my arm through hers and led her out of the room. “I want to tell you a story,” I said, my voice hushed. “It’s about a young woman who fell in love with a married man, and the many years of misery that followed.”

Lucy stopped walking, forcing me to stop as well.

Looking up at me with puppy-dog eyes full of naïveté, she smiled sadly. “Am I that obvious?” she whispered.

“No,” I lied. “Sadly, I’m just an expert on this sort of thing.”