“Ella!” Millie comes into my bedroom as I’m packing up the final bunch of my crap.

“Yeah?” I turn to face her, hitting pause on Bon Jovi. I didn’t really want to hit pause on Bon Jovi, but it’s Millie, and she can be persistent when she wants to be. It’s a beautiful midsummer day, the sun is blaring through my curtains, and the chirping of crickets drift through the small crack of my window. I’ve always loved summer. It has always been my most favorite time of the year. The way the heat swelters over my skin reminding me of the earthy palm trees brushing in the wind, and the saltwater lightly spraying through the air.

Millie drops down onto my mattress, pulling her knees up to her chest. “How’s the packing going, chica?” The packing, per se, is going slow. I leave tomorrow for NYU and I have absolutely nothing sorted because in typical me fashion, I’ve left everything to the last minute.

“I hate it,” I admit, folding up my favorite pair of jeans before tossing them into one of my (many) suitcases.

She chuckles, so I stop what I’m doing to look at her. “Seriously, maybe I should just join a nunnery?”

Her chuckling turns into full laughter. “Oh, no, honey, no. You don’t want to do that.” Millie is my brother’s, I would say fiancée, but, that really doesn’t give their relationship much justice, so I’m sticking with queen because he literally calls her that. Like, in everyday conversation. “Oh yes, Mr. President, my queen will be here shortly.” I shit you not, even Mr. President wouldn’t bat an eyelash at Raze’s choice of words when referring to Millie, mainly because he’s smart but also because he likes his head safely secured on top of his shoulders.

My brother is otherworldly when it comes to his queen. It’s intense, insane, but also by far the most romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed. You know, between all the bodies, blood, saving her from being sold, the nunneries, and rape.

I didn’t sell their romance very well, but you get my point.

“I don’t know…” I tease her, zipping up my final suitcase before putting it beside the others. “I might find the man of my dreams. It obviously worked for you in the end.”

Her laughing turns to a full on cheesy grin. “Sure did, but no.” She gets off the bed, rounds it, then pulls me into her side. Wrapping her arm around my waist she guides me toward my bedroom door. “You are going to live the normal American girl life.” We begin walking down the long hallway until we reach the stairs. “You’re going to have lots of sex with random men—but be safe—you’re going to drink a ton—but be safe—then you’re going to make memories to tell your grandchildren.” We head down, and I rub the palm of her hand with mine while resting my head on her shoulder. “You’ll always be that sister I never had.”

“Trust me,” she snorts, just as we reach the bottom of the stairs. We proceed toward. the kitchen. “Sisters are overrated.” She says that, but I know the light humor in her comment. Her and Melissa may be worlds apart, but they would die for one another. You know, if they both weren’t shacked up with two of the most overbearing alpha males I’ve ever met. Actually, I’m surrounded by a fucking lot of them lately. My brother, Beast, with his wife Meadow. Then there’s Raze, and Miles; my brother from another mother, and when I say brother, I mean the somewhat odd one. His friendship with Millie is off the charts though, so there’s hope for him yet. He’s not all that dead inside (I think).

“I don’t know,” I grin, my attention falling on Raze who is in the kitchen, blending up a god-forsaken protein smoothie. “I’d say I’m a pretty awesome sister, huh big brother!” Raze just glares at me, says nothing, then proceeds to turn the blender on. “See!” I say to Millie, well, rather yell to Millie.

Millie chuckles, patting her lover’s arm gently before pointing to the bar stool for him to take a seat. She flicks the blender off. “Be nice, baby.”

“I’m always nice,” Raze grunts.

I laugh because he is far from nice. But he is my big brother, and he did raise me, so…

Miles walks in, buttoning up his shirt, his sharp-edged jaw tight, but his stone emotionless eyes coming to life a little when they land on Millie. Millie grins at him a ‘Miles only’ grin, pushes off the counter before throwing herself into his arms. Raze rolls his eyes, so I take this moment to slide off my chair, grab a glass down from the cabinet and pour some of that god-awful protein smoothie into a glass. Raze watches as I lift the glass to my mouth. I shrug. “What?”

“When do you leave?” he asks, leaning back in his chair.

“Aw, I love you too.”

He glares.

I roll my eyes, taking another sip of the thick juice—which admittedly, doesn’t taste too bad— “Tomorrow!”

His glaring eases, his jaw loosens and his eye twitches. Millie walks back to where I’m standing as I wind my middle finger up at Raze, flipping him off.

He chuckles, which is a step up from his glaring. “Try not to get into too much trouble. Your headcount is beginning to get deep.”

I tilt my head. “I haven’t killed anyone,” I pause and watch as Raze’s eyebrow quirks. “In a while…”

“Much better,” Raze smirks.

Miles steps in, straightening his bow tie. “You haven’t needed to. You have men who do it for you.”

“Oh, hey, now…” I feign innocence, just as my phone starts vibrating in my pocket. “I am well equipped to take care of myself.” I swipe it to unlock when I see it’s Meadow, Beast’s old lady, who is calling.

“That was never your issue,” I hear Raze mutter under his breath before getting to his feet and briefly explaining to Millie that we were only joking. I ignore him anyway while bringing the phone to my ear.

“Hola, little lady.” It’s safe to say, I get on very well with both of my brothers’ women, and I love them both all the same, but Meadow is the not crazy one in the family, so we tend to sort of tread carefully around her. When I say we I just mean Millie and I, the guys don’t give a fuck. Even if Beast is the International president of The Devils Own MC, and the president of the Las Vegas chapter, I have to admit, Raze is another level. Same with Miles, only Miles is like a snake in grass. You will never see his move, you will only feel it, and when you feel it, you’d have only a few seconds to live.

You could make a movie out of my life along with the people in it. Everyone would probably die, but it’d be a great movie.

“Hey, Ella, how’s the packing going?” Meadow sings into my ear.

“Ehh, I hate it. I think Raze was right. I have too many clothes.”

She giggles. “Hey, look, I know that you might not want to, you know, er…” she pauses, so I take this moment to clear my throat.

“Wassup?” I know she’s fluffing around the F subject. When I say “F” I wished I meant Friday, but I don’t.

“Okay! Well the boys are having a hog roast if you want to come and have it as like a—farewell as well?”

Usually, I would decline, but would it really be that bad? Last I had heard of Frost, which was last week after all the shit blew over with Raze and Millie, then finding out he was going nomad, so surely he won’t be there. I’m good. Of course, me being Ella McKenna, I don’t confirm this with Meadow because if I do that, that would display my trying to duck and hide from the tatted up, dead inside, dead fucking eyes, dead flesh probably too because he has THAT many tattoos, sexy as fuck biker. The sexy comment was uncalled for, but I can’t help it. No one can, because you take one look at Frost and you know, whether you’re married, a lesbian, fucking bisexual in a multi-person marriage, you just can’t help but see Frost. Our shitsuationship (which is not a word, I just made it up because it clearly describes Frost and I’s relationship perfectly), all started when Raze made trade.

Millie, for me. So my ass was thrown straight into the lion’s den.