When I first got my bike, I had gotten it from a guy at a junkyard with stolen money. I had no clue how to drive a car, let alone a motorcycle, but I didn’t give a shit. I took one look at the piece of junk and knew I had to have it. With a couple of tries and help from the old man, I was riding out of there feeling a sense of freedom I never thought I’d feel without Emmy.

It wasn’t the same as having her, but it was as good as I could get. Feeling the power beneath my hands and the wind beating against my face, I gained a sense of control I’d never had before. It made me feel alive.

Pulling past the gates, I stop right alongside the rows of bikes. Music blares from inside, the vibrations felt through my bike long after I shut it off. Sitting back in my seat I bite back the groan that comes from my chest at the sight of the party. I watch as people stumble in and out; members, hang arounds, club whores and old ladies.

This is going to be a long fucking night.

The large armory sits right on the outskirts of town, close enough to be a part of it but far enough away no one can hear our business. Most of the older guys and the ones with old ladies live in houses that sit along the dirt paths behind our haven, while the rest of us take up the rooms inside.

The first four years we were here, JB and I spent bustin’ our asses cleaning up after all these assholes. Polishing the bikes, cleaning up after parties, shaving the guns, burying the bodies, all the grunt work. Just to earn the cut on my back and become brothers for life.

It was fucking worth it.

These guys are my family, something I thought I would never have outside of Emmy.

Hopefully soon she will be the best part of it.

My mind can’t stop replaying her voice, her words… It was the first time I have spoken to her since I had her beneath me, since she gave me everything.

The strength it took to walk out of that building can’t even be explained.

That girl holds my entire reason in the palm of her hands and she doesn’t even know it, but she will. Remembering the way she responded to my touch causes my body to jump to life. Fuck, I miss her.

It’s been five years since I’ve held my girl… I went from hearing her voice and feeling her touch every fuckin’ day to nothing but short glimpses of her once a month. Being as close as I got the other day nearly brought me to my fucking knees. The feel of her skin beneath my lips and hearing the anguish in her voice, knowing that it’s because deep down she knows who I am…

Yea, it’s a fucking miracle that I had the strength to leave.

She may not fully remember me but her body does, what’s more is her heart does, too. With Emmy moving out here it’s just a matter of time before her mind follows suit.

She’s mine and I can’t wait for her to remember. I know it’s not going to be easy and it won’t happen overnight. But it’s going to fucking happen.

Throwing my leg over my bike, I hop off and unclip my helmet setting it down. Moving the bandana from around my face, I drop it to my neck. The chilly night air ghosts along my now exposed face. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I slide the screen showing a new message from an unknown number.

What the hell?

Tension stirs in my gut. Only a few people outside of my brothers have this number and they know not to fucking hand it out either.

Clicking the icon, I read the message.

‘Remember what I said. Keep her safe but keep your club out of it. Hide your colors when you’re around her. We’re leaving now, should be there in a few days. -D’

Clenching my jaw, I fight the impulse to chuck my phone.

He wants me to hide my colors?

Feeling the weight of my cut on my back, I look down at my patches. They are what make me who I am today; a member of the Soulless Sinners.

I have never worn them while visiting Emmy before but that was because I wasn’t in my own territory. The thought of not wearing them in my town doesn’t sit well, but I get it. As much as I don’t want to admit that Drifter is right, he is… I need Emmy to remember who I was before I can show her who I am now.

Doesn’t stop the nasty feeling of Drifter telling me how to treat my girl from sinking in, though. The fact that he knows her better than I do now has me seeing red.

I don’t like him… or Buck, but that reason is more personal.

Not long after I started prospecting, I ran into Drifter here in Cali. You can imagine my surprise when we pulled up at the same bar he was at and my brothers acted like he was a longtime friend. I knew he had said he lived out here but actually seeing him was hard to swallow. Small world or not… something has just never felt right.

That night he acted like he had no clue who I was, which in a way I appreciated since I wasn’t necessarily advertising my past, but shit was tense. He never made eye contact with me and he didn’t stick around.

It was like he couldn’t face me… or my club.

From what I know, he sticks to himself and people hardly ever see him. My brothers say he’s ex-military, now nomad biker who has done a lot of questionable work here and there for clubs all over, he never sticks to one chapter or town for too long. It wasn’t until he helped our club out with something years before I arrived that he just never left. What he does now is a fucking mystery, but I have a feeling it has everything to do with finding Marx.

Shit…The unyielding pit in my stomach sinks at the thought of Marx Nixon. The need to keep Emmy safe weighs heavy on me. The need to put my trust in those two again… I fucking hate it.

Without replying, I shove my phone back in my pocket and head for the club. Change is in the air, the thickness of it lets me know it’s not going to be easy. But if it puts Emmy back in my arms, it will be worth it

* * *

“Romeo, Romeo, where is thou Romeo?” someone calls the second I walk through the door.

Rolling my eyes at my given road name, I walk into the armory. The stench of alcohol and pussy nearly knocks me over. A sea of people shoulder to shoulder litters the place. My skin crawls as I watch naked women dancing and fucking in every corner.

Shit, this is crazy.

Our club is relatively tame compared to some of our sister chapters. I guess that’s because we are the mother, the Queen. We have a reputation to uphold and we do it well. Parties happen often, but for the most part they stay in control. I can handle those, they usually involve the familiar faces with the occasional newbies, the women and men curious to see what we are about. But when we do have the ragers where people from all over come to party and fuck … yea, these are harder to handle.

Heading toward the stairs, I do my best to avoid people with no such luck. My name being called stops me from making my escape. “Romeo! Get your ass over here!” Knowing I have no choice, I push past the couple fucking against the wall and head for the bar along the back.

Pulling out the stool I take a seat next to my VP, Bo.

“One hell of a party,” I say, nodding at the prospect behind the bar. Reaching over he hands me a beer. Popping the top off, I take a healthy gulp and glance over at my VP. His bloodshot eyes dance with laughter.

“Yea, you could say that,” he answers. “Couple brothers from the Oregon chapter stopped in.” Motioning to the couch I see a few men with club whores bobbing up and down between their legs while another pours bottles of alcohol down their throats.

Swallowing hard I look away. A cold sweat breaks out along my body.

“They here for business?” I ask, wiping my hand across my forehead. I don’t remember Prez mentioning anything.

Turning in his seat, he downs the two shots waiting for him before facing me. “Nah, just a social visit. They had a nice drop down in Mexico, brought us our share. Everyone is taking it easy.”

Nodding, I take another drink and plan a way out of here. A tap on my shoulder causes me to jump. “Welcome back, Romeo,” a husky voice greets me causing goosebumps to skirt along my arms, and not the good kind.

Turning to the voice, I’m met with brown unfocused eyes. Letting my gaze travel down past her bare tits and barely there thong, I look back up. Apprehension shoots down my spine. Over the years, I’ve gotten used to the women and the whores that hang around here. I can handle their voices and their touches. I can make small talk and be polite, but that’s as far as it goes.

“Thanks Serena,” I quip, giving a small nod hoping she takes the hint.

Since being forced to at the slavery, I haven’t touched another woman and I never lead them on. Yet they act like I drop my pants every chance I get an open invitation.

“You partying tonight?” her plea comes out husky and desperate.

Shaking my head, I answer through clenched teeth, “Nah, just catching up.”

Her pout makes my skin crawl.

Hearing one of the other brothers shout her name, she shrugs off her disappointment and disappears into the crowd. My body sags with relief. Turning back to my VP I find him looking at me with a smirk.

“What?” I growl. Fuck. I need to get upstairs.

“I don’t know how you do it brother.” He laughs. Spinning in his seat, he leans his back against the bar and watches everyone.

Rolling my eyes, I take another drink of my beer only to find that it’s empty. Placing it down on the bar I turn back to him. “Not interested.”

“Yea. I know. You’re never interested,” he mumbles, his eyes following one of the many whores. “You’re missing out, though.”

“I don’t want these women,” I answer again, not sure why I feel the need to defend myself.

Swinging his head to me, the humor is gone. The serious look on his face causes me to brace myself. “But the one you sneak off to see? She it? What you want?”

I walked right into that one. “I don’t sneak and you don’t know shit.”

Shaking his head, he stands up and claps his hands, rubbing them together. “What I do know is that pussy is pussy and I have one eye fucking me across the room.” Turning I follow his line of sight. Dyson, one of the regulars, sits in a chair with her legs hanging over each side, her hands toying with her body as she stares at my VP. Grimacing I look back to Bo and find him staring at me. “You may not talk about it Romeo but we are not fucking stupid. You got a bitch hidden on the side, someone that by the look on your face right now, you are willing to throw down for.” I try my best to cool down and school my expression as he continues. “Keep in mind brother… things didn’t work out so well for the real Romeo.”

“Our lives aren’t something that can be written as a love story,” I say, my heart pounding in my chest. “There aren’t any words good enough to describe what we fucking have.”

Surprise flickers across his face and I regret the words once they leave my mouth. No one knows why I leave every month except for Prez, and he doesn’t know all of it. Of course they got their suspicions, hence the fucking road name, but they don’t really know and I like it that way. What Emmy and I got is too fucked up for words, our past is something nightmares are made of, our present is full of stalking and secrecy, and our future is fragile and unknown.

How do you explain something like us? You don’t. You keep it to yourself because some things are just too great and too precious to speak about out loud.

Shaking his head, he clasps me on the shoulder and heads for Dyson. “Whatever you say, Romeo.”

Leaving the bar, I make my way to the stairs but change my mind at the last second. Pivoting around, I head down the wide hall. Pictures and memorabilia scatter the wall, showcasing every member and milestone this club has had. Stopping in front of the office door, I pound my fist on it.

“Come in,” Prez shouts from the other side.

Walking into the large room, the man who gave me a second chance at life sits behind his desk. A glass of dark amber rests in his hand as he stares silently at the large insignia on the wall; a picture of a skeleton dressed in a hooded cloak holds a beautiful woman in his bony arms as he inhales the soul from her body, a sun wraps around the whole thing and the club name, Soulless Sinners, hangs bold on the bottom.

It’s haunting. It’s perfect. It’s the same thing that’s on our cuts.

With a lost look in his eyes, he tears his gaze away and meets mine.

“Avoiding the party?” he asks and I shrug, taking a seat in front of his desk.

Other than where we have church; our meetings, this office is the largest room in the armory. The entertainment area that rests to the left as you walk in holds two sectional couches and a glass table that sits in-between them. A bar takes up the right and his large oak desk is pushed toward the back.

Spinning in his chair he faces me. “How’d your trip go?”

“Just got in. It’s intense out there.”

Nodding his head, he reaches down and opens a drawer. Pulling out a second glass, he fills it up with the same dark liquid and pushes it toward me.

Leaning forward I grab the glass and take a long pull, the heat of the drink instantly causing my muscles to relax as it flows down my throat.

“Yea, brothers will be out by morning. Just stopping through. What’s up, Romeo?” he asks, not missing shit.

“I’m not going to be going on my trips anymore,” I say getting to the point.

Setting his glass down, he gives me his undivided attention.

When JB and I showed up here looking to prospect, Pops forced us to lay our shit bare. He didn’t ask for details, just the basics. He knows that we were slaves but he never asked how we escaped. He doesn’t care about names or places, the only thing he wanted to know was where our priorities were. When he asked if there was anything that would keep us from the club, I answered without hesitation. I told him that once a month I would be leaving to ride out to Texas. Him and JB had both looked at me like I was fucking crazy, but when I told him it was because I had a girl who needed me and no one could stop me from going, respect shone in his eyes.

“Something happen?”

Letting out a sigh, I answer the best I can. It’s not that I don’t trust my club or my Prez. I trust them with my life… but this isn’t about my life, this is about Emmy’s.

“The girl I have been going to see, she’s coming to live here in Cali… in Providence.”

Narrowing his eyes, he leans back in his seat and stares me down. “You making her your old lady?”

My heart squeezes at the thought. “Not yet,” I answer almost in pain. “For now, she is going to be staying with family.”

“She got family here?” he asks confused.

“Sort of,” I quip. “She’s got some shit from the past popping up. Until it gets handled, she isn’t safe.”

Suspicion churns in his stare. The knowledge that I’m not sharing the full story causes his head to cock to the side as he watches me.

Pops is an observant man, always watching and listening. He doesn’t say much but when he does, everyone listens. It’s what makes him a great Prez.

“It’s not going to affect the club,” I add. “But my time is going to be divided. I will have to stay in town. I’ll hand my runs to one of the guys.”

He stares at me for a moment longer before letting out a breath. “You know why I let you and JB prospect?” he asks, his question startling me and I shake my head. “You never found it fucking weird that I would just let you two in? You have witnessed it yourself. I don’t just let anyone prospect. Especially random strays who show up out of fucking nowhere.”

Confusion sinks in. Of course it’s crossed my mind but I never gave it much thought. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you were a favor I owed.” Leaning in his seat, his hard-green eyes bore into mine. “I don’t care what happened in your past, I don’t give a shit what haunts you. All I care about is fucking loyalty to this club and to your brothers. You boys earned those patches on your back, and it didn’t come fucking easy. If you need us to throw down for you, we will. You know that. Say the word Romeo and we will keep your girl safe.”

“I know that,” I answer not turning from his stare. “She’s just not ready for this life yet,” I answer, wishing more than anything I could just bring her here.

“Who is she?”

“She’s everything.”

“Then we have your back.”