By the time Ayda left Tate’s room, I’d managed to sink into a semi, whiskey-induced coma. In a rare moment of camaraderie, Jedd, Slater, Deeks, and I had been sitting around the bar while Harry slid shots our way every two seconds. The Hut felt busy that night. Some of the whores were keeping themselves occupied in the corner, giggling and slipping their bodies around a few of the other men. Kenny, Tate, Libby, and Sloane had taken ownership of the two leather sofas and were playing some shitty game I didn’t know the name of, looking like the young bloods they were.

I was enjoying the time with my brothers, feeding off their barking laughs with a goofy grin on my face as they talked about their younger days, all the things we’d gotten up to as a club, and the tricks gone wrong we’d had to put right. A lot had happened in the last couple of days. In the last few hours, actually, and it felt good to have some of that load taken off and spend some time with my friends.

My family.

There was a seat sitting empty next to me, and the moment I caught sight of Ayda out of the corner of my eye, I slyly glanced her way and watched her blonde hair and cute ass sashay my way. Every time I saw that smile aimed at me, something inside me got all twisted up. She was the chick who had come along, tipped me upside down and made me realize I’d never been in charge of who I loved. It was always meant to be her. She was always going to be mine.

Fucking fate had stepped in and delivered her at my clumpy feet and reckless mouth.

Her hand slid around my shoulders, her ass landing on the other side of me with grace before she dropped a kiss to my bicep and sat upright, her bright, cheery disposition lighting up the whole damn room. The heartbeat had arrived again, and every single one of us could feel it.

“Harry,” I said, looking at him and holding up my empty shot glass. “Another for me, and one for the woman beside me who thinks she can just saunter her sexy ass in here and touch me up whenever she feels like it.”

Ayda laughed, her eyes shining brighter when they met mine. “I happen to think I’m being quite restrained. You know I just can’t help myself when you’re close by.” She wiggled her fingers at me and then dropped her hand to my thigh, squeezing playfully. “I could dirty it up a little, lower the tone?”

“I have zero issue with you sucking my dick in public, darlin’.”

“Ever the gentleman,” she sang, giving my thigh another squeeze before she reached for the drink Harry had slid in front of her.

“Remind me,” Jedd commanded quietly from the other side of me, drawing my attention to him as he pointed a finger in Ayda’s direction. “How is it that a cocky, arrogant, shady motherfucker like you, Tucker, has landed on your feet with a woman like this?”

“You’ve either got it or you—”

“Bullshit,” Harry cried from behind the bar, his cough lingering behind his laughter. He had a towel thrown over his shoulder, playing the part of the bald, short, lovable barman to perfection. “This has nothing to do with you, Drew. You only got Ayda because she’s short-sighted.”

“You just like to think if I’d met you first I’d never look at Drew twice, Harry.” She reached over and rested her hand on top of his with a genuine smile. “We’ll never know the answer to that, I’m afraid. I got all the man I need with this one.” Ayda tipped her head in my direction and winked at me.

I spread my arm out, letting it fall over the back of her stool so my fingers could graze her ass in thanks. “See,” I said, turning to the others. “She wanted a man. Not boys like you fuckers.”

“I had pubic hair two years before you, weasel,” Slater roared from the side of Jedd. “I remember you standing in your room, tugging on the invisible hairs under your arm, trying to get them to grow.”

I threw my head back, barking out a genuine laugh. Slater wasn’t lying. I’d been in a hurry to grow up when I was younger. There’d always been this need to get closer to Pete—to close the gap and become just like him.

“Fair point,” I said as my laughter trickled away. “But we ain’t talking about the past. We’re talking about now. Don’t hate me ‘cause y’all want to be me.”

“And he wonders why people track him down and tie him up,” Harry muttered not so slyly as he reached for the whiskey bottle and began to fill Jedd’s, Slater’s and Deeks’ shot glasses.

A shriek came from one of the girls behind us, forcing me to glance over my shoulder, only to see Tate and Libby cozying up together while Kenny put his arm around Sloane and tried to teach her the rules of whatever game they were playing.

Turning back around, I blew out a breath and leaned over the bar, resting my forearms on the surface. “I don’t know why you choose to be here sometimes,” I muttered to Ayda through a half smile.

“Are you kidding?” she asked, dragging her eyes from the foursome on the sofas. “I get to hear all the tales of your childhood from the people who know you best.” She reached for her next shot, holding up the glass in cheers to Deeks and grinning. “Does someone have the story of his first ride on a bike?”

“We weren’t privy to that ride out when he was inside his momma’s uterus, doll,” Deeks chuckled, taking his shot in one swift move before he slammed his glass back on the bar and gasped. “Drew was riding before he was walkin’ or talkin’.”

Ayda smiled and looked around the men surrounding us before her eyes landed on the picture of Pete and me behind the bar. She turned to me silently, asking if it was okay to include questions about him.

“He’s a part of this club. Ask about him,” I whispered to her. “The guys would like to talk about him without me being a dick.”

Ayda brushed her lips across my cheek, stopping at the corner of my mouth before turning to the others with a grin. “Tell me about the childhood Drew. Did he follow Pete everywhere? Did Slater try to keep up with them?”

“Please,” Slater scoffed. “I had no desire to be a part of the Drew and Pete love affair.”

My sarcastic smile grew. Lying fucker.

“Nobody could get near Pete. Nobody. Drew was everywhere he went. There’s hero worship, and then there’s what Pete was to Drew,” Harry reminisced, his tone turning reflective, even though he looked happy enough. “Every time Drew’s parents tried to teach him something, even when he was a little tyke who had just learned to walk, Drew refused to listen. But when Pete spoke…”

“I heard him,” I finished, nodding my head.

“You sure did,” Harry said through a smile.

“Pete was the guy I looked up to. Slater had the pleasure of being the kid I was a kid with.”

“I can’t even imagine Drew as a toddler,” Ayda said lightly. “I just imagine a smaller version of the man he is now. Scowling at the other children in kindergarten and intimidating them into doing what he wanted them to do.” She laughed and glanced at Slater, who looked too amused. “That’s exactly it, isn’t it?”

Slater swirled his whiskey in his shot glass, staring into it with a huge grin on his face. “Drew’s tantrums were legendary.”

“Still fucking are,” Jedd muttered, forcing my free hand to lash out and slap him on the chest hard as every one of us started laughing. It felt free. Light. Long over-fucking-due.

“And dangerous,” I added. “Don’t forget dangerous.”

“I’ll give you that,” Deeks interrupted again from next to Slater. He leaned over the bar to see me properly, pointing a finger my way. “I remember this one time you wanted your old man to take you to a park. A goddamn play area with swings and all the other shit normal kids went to. But Eric was busy. He had shit going down. This other MC was riding through Babylon and out for trouble. That day, while you were whining about going to play, they rode into the yard to pay a visit to your dad. You chose that very moment, Drew, to pull your pants down on the top step of the porch and flash your bare ass to the whole MC ‘cause you thought it somehow made a fool out of your old man in front of them.”

“Motherfucker, Deeks,” I muttered quietly, shaking my head.

Ayda threw a hand over her mouth, trying to hide her laughter, but it was present in her eyes. They were lit up as they met mine. She pulled her hand away, still grinning, and looked at Deeks again. “What happened?”

“Eric turned bright red, told Drew to go inside. Drew muttered his first curse word and told his dad to suck his dick. All the members of the rival MC thought Eric was a joke, said their piece and left fairly peacefully. Drew actually did his father a favor. Shame Eric didn’t quite see it that way. Pretty sure you felt your first numb ass cheek that night, brother.” Deeks winked at me, his chest bouncing as his silent laughter tore free.

“And it went downhill from there. If I don’t deserve a drink after that story, something is seriously fucking wrong with this place.”

Ayda shook her head and opened her mouth to say something, but Tate cut in over her as he collected a soda from behind the bar. “Sounds like the stories Dad used to tell about Ayda,” he said, grinning at his sister. “Only she used to fart the alphabet to strangers.”

“Tate, go away.” Ayda dropped her forehead to the bar.

I glanced down at her formerly cute ass, cringed and leaned away from her, feeling the sting of her slap as I did.

“I’m not saying anything,” I huffed out, holding my hands up in the air.

“I did it once. Once. That was it, but it was the story Dad told the most.”

“I remember when he told Jacob…” Tate trailed off before thinking better of it. “Jake wouldn’t drop it, ribbed Ayda for weeks about it. That was when Dad decided he didn’t much like him.”

“Sounds like your dad had good standards,” I muttered, the reference to Ayda’s ex making my mood darken just a little bit as the memories of him from earlier came floating back. Those eyes. That cocky face. The familiarity. “Speaking of Jacob…”

“Let’s not,” Ayda said, pushing out her bottom lip. “It was going so well.”

I ignored her, turning to the other guys and narrowing my eyes. “Did he look familiar to any of you?”

“Familiar?” Slater asked.

Jedd pressed his lips together and frowned as he thought. “In what way?”

“In a freaky fuckin’ way.”

“That doesn’t help us,” Jedd grunted.

I blew out a breath and leaned back, straightening my spine and sitting tall as though Jacob was in front of me. Staring down at the bar counter top, I swirled a hand around my face and tried to focus. “Everything about him. I’ve seen those eyes before. That arrogant grin.”

“That’s you looking in the mirror, dickhead,” Slater pushed out, earning a few laughs from everyone but me.

“I’m serious, Slate. You didn’t see anything you recognized about him?”

I turned Slater’s way to see him, too, studying his own thoughts as he stared down into his empty glass. “Nothing I can think of.”

“Deeks?”

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head.

“Weird.” I sighed, turning back to Ayda. “Who are Jacob’s parents?”

“Don and Lisa Hove,” she said, shrugging. “Don is an engineer at one of the drilling sites. Lisa owns the hobby shop in town.”

I scowled as I tried to connect their names to the look I’d seen Jacob wearing. “Don and Lisa Hove,” I muttered to myself before I looked up at the other guys. “Ring any alarm bells with any of you?”

“No,” Jedd mumbled, shaking his head.

“Nope,” Slater added.

“Think I’ve run into Lisa a few times, but nothing that has made me think anything of her,” Harry said from across the bar.

“It’s not like an engineer and a hobby shop owner have any business with the likes of us, Drew,” Deeks butted in.

“No,” I breathed out. “Any siblings?” I asked Ayda, my last line of questioning before I put these creepy itchy feelings down as post-warehouse paranoia and moved the hell along.

“An older brother, Travis.” Ayda glanced around the room before meeting my eyes again, the question of whether that helped clear in her baby blues.

Travis Hove, I thought to myself, rattling the name around in my mind and bouncing it off every wall that wasn’t battered beyond repair in there. I must have gotten lost in my own thoughts for a moment too long, ‘cause when I looked up again, Ayda was giving me that worried look of hers. It wasn’t one the other guys would have recognized, but we had that secret, silent language of ours going on—the one we were getting more practiced in with every passing day.

Leaning back, I shrugged it off and dropped my hand to her thigh, making my lips curl up on one side. “Nope. Nothing. I must just be getting a bit too familiar with the look of hate in other men’s eyes.”

Ayda studied me for a second longer before nodding in recognition and flashing her grin. “I really don’t know how you make that sound like a compliment.”

“Don’t you know, darlin’?” I leaned in closer, our faces only inches apart. “The better you’re doing in life, the more people hate you. And I’ve never been doing better than I am right now.”

Ayda wrapped her arms around my neck, her lips brushing over my cheek, the movement tickling my skin as she spoke. “By that measure, everyone should hate me to my marrow.”

I heard the guys all grumbling and flipped them the middle finger while staying focused on her. “Most of the Hound Whores probably do,” I teased, wrinkling my nose up and curling my lip.

Gaze flickering to the corner, Ayda rolled her eyes. “I think you’re right. Makes so much more sense now.”

I huffed out a laugh and put my arm around her shoulder, turning us both back to the men, but not before I snuck a sly kiss to her lips. I still hadn’t figured out a way of pulling away from her when we were so close. Not without tasting her lips in some way.

“You finished?” Harry asked, raising both brows as he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms. The picture of Pete and me sat right by his face, and my eyes flickered to it, causing me to suck in a small breath.

“Finished,” I said through a smile.

Harry turned to the picture and rolled his eyes. “Thought you’d trained him to have a heart of stone, Pete. He’ll be singing Puppy Love next and draping roses on the floor for her to walk on.”

“Roses, Harry?” Ayda said, nudging her glass and fluttering her eyelashes playfully. “Those are only for special occasions. Daisies will do just fine.”

“We save roses for Titty Tuesday, brother.” I laughed.

Harry’s eyes stayed focused on Pete’s picture. “You should have sent him back to his parents so his failures didn’t fall on your shoulders, Pete.”

“Eric couldn’t handle Drew at four, never mind fourteen,” Slater huffed out, grabbing the whiskey bottle from the bar and filling up his shot glass again.

My smile fell slowly, but I tried to recover it quickly, focusing on Pete’s face instead of the name of my father ringing in my ears.

“Imagine how he’d have felt seeing me at twenty-four on my way to the joint,” I said without thinking.

Ayda rubbed my shoulder without consciously thinking about it, her body pressing against mine as she turned her gaze on Pete. “How old were you when your dad died?”

I turned to face her instantly, my eyes staring into hers as my scowl grew deeper and deeper by the second, and I felt my breathing grow sharper.

Everyone around us had stopped. Stopped breathing. Stopped talking. Stopped moving.

I barely moved my lips as I continued to search the blues of her eyes. “When he died?”

“I…” She trailed off and looked around at the group of grown men who were staring at her like she’d grown a pair of tits on her head. “Fuck. I just… Oh God. Was it bad?”

“Ayda,” I breathed. “He isn’t dead. My dad…” I frowned harder, swallowing the harsh lump in my throat. “He’s still alive.”