Back in Little Memphis, I rode bitch on Madden’s Harley a few times, and I always hated the experience. Madden has many good qualities, and he’s an alpha compared to many, many men. Compared to me, though, he’s a fucking Chihuahua, and I refused to be his “bitch.” If the alpha rides up front, Madden should be my bitch and ride like one. Was that really so difficult?

Of course, it was. Madden didn’t want to be pushed around, and he’d lose his sexiness if he allowed me to make him the bitch. So we broke up, and I figured I’d never ride behind someone again.

Now I’m somewhere in Arkansas with a man I barely know, riding on the back of his Harley while trusting he won’t do me wrong. Not that I didn’t come armed. Of course, I feel his pistol strapped under his vest, so it’ll be an even match if shit goes wrong.

I’m unconcerned for my safety during the ride. Enjoying the beautiful scenery, I hold onto Oz and trust he has somewhere cool in mind. We pass a few farmhouses and so many fields before driving into lush woods. I look up at the canopy of trees and imagine how gorgeous they’ll be in a few weeks once autumn arrives. I really ought to take the girls for a drive this way so they can take in the view.

As much as I enjoy the foliage, I’m stunned by the sight of an actual castle. Cayenne mentioned something about one when we were investigating Rawlins, but I assumed she was messing with me. I guess I owe her an apology.

Oz parks in a small, gravel parking lot and shuts off the engine. I immediately slide off the Harley and take in the sight of the stone walls surrounding the castle. Oz wraps an arm around me and starts walking toward the entrance.

“Welcome to the Silver Swan. I loved coming here as a kid. Back then, they didn’t have the gift shop or deli. People just brought picnic baskets and ate out back on the ground. Now they have a patio with tables. There’s a playground out back too for kids.”

“I assume you bring your little ones here.”

“They love it, and I love it too. I will say you’re the first bangable woman I’ve brought here because the place is special to me.”

The raw emotion behind Oz’s blunt words steals my breath and nearly sends me running again. Being special to him causes a can of worms to open and spill all over the place.

What if I can’t live up to what he hopes for me? What if he doesn’t prove as special to me as I am to him? What if we’re on the same page and everything works out? Then what the fuck happens? I can’t live with a man. What about his kids? And his mom? What if he wants more kids? Too much! Red alert! Run away!

“If you run,” Oz whispers in my ear as people leave the castle and pass us, “I will chase you. My legs are longer, so I will catch you. When I do, tickling will ensue.”

I lift my gaze to meet his and cock an eyebrow. “When I’m cornered, I always go for dick violence. You should remember that before your fingers unleash their punishment on my stomach.”

“Is that where you’re ticklish?” he asks and takes out his wallet to pay for the tickets. “I’ll file that info away for later.”

I grip his hand, needing reassurance and wondering if he’ll provide it. Maybe taking the hint, Oz guides me into the castle without more tickling threats. We walk through the narrow halls winding through the three-story fortress. I’m interested enough in the small rooms and stone walls to stop obsessing over a potential future with Oz and simply enjoy our date.

We walk up a long narrow stairway and into a room overlooking the back of the property. I stand on a small balcony and admire the view. Oz slides his hand into my jeans back pocket to remind me of how much he’d like to fuck me.

Then he asks a question he’d only ask if he realizes fucking isn’t happening anytime soon.

“What’s the deal with Yarrow?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve heard she’s crazy.”

“Heard where?”

“People talk.”

“What people?” I grumble, wanting to punch the gossipy bitch who talked shit about my girl.

“The other crew at the worksite mentioned that Cayenne warned them to stay far away from Yarrow when she comes around. In fact, she was more worried they’d bother Yarrow than Duffy.”

“With her, we play the ‘better safe than sorry’ game.”

“Why exactly?” he pushes.

Pushing right back, I ask, “What does it matter?”

“She lives in my town, and I envision a future where my kids meet Duffy, and that means they’ll probably run into Yarrow.”

“She’s temperamental.”

“So are you.”

“It’s personal.”

“You shared a lot of personal shit with me. I’m only asking you let me know her deal, not her life story.”

“Fine, but you don’t go around sharing with other people, okay?” When Oz nods, I trust him despite once again ready to bail on this date. “I found Yarrow when she was fifteen. While I wouldn’t say she was feral, that’s the best word to explain her lack of social skills.”

“What do you mean by ‘found her’?”

“Her father was a hardcore alcoholic and addict, and he pimped her out to feed his habit. I took Yarrow in and raised her, but I wasn’t capable of fixing what was wrong with her when I can’t fix it in me either.”

“You seem well adjusted.”

Smiling at his bullshit compliment, I shrug. “I fake it. She doesn’t. That’s the main difference. Yarrow is harmless with kids, though, so don’t worry about her hurting Makoa and Alani. You probably saw how Yarrow follows Duffy around. She’s very protective of her.”

I stop talking when I think someone is walking into the room. Once I’m certain we’re alone, I continue. “One of the ENC girls back in Little Memphis said Yarrow reminded her of an old abused dog her parents adopted when she was a kid. Saffron said the dog didn’t like people, but would follow her around, sleep by her bed, and keep her safe. No one could mess with Saffron as long as the dog was around. That dog found a purpose for all its anger and fear. Yarrow is that way with Duffy, and she will be that way with your kids,” I say and then add, “But it’s not beyond the realm of possibilities that she might bite you.”

Oz reaches out and caresses my cheek with his knuckles. “You did a good thing by taking her in.”

“I probably should have gotten her into the system and let Child Services help her,” I say, remembering the way a bloodied Yarrow looked at me when I found her in a closet.

Oz notices my mood shift and strokes my jaw. His affection does calm me.

“I was stubborn back then,” I say, shaking off those bad memories. “I trusted no one outside of the crew, so I figured I knew better than a bureaucrat what someone like Yarrow needed. Except she and I aren’t the same.”

Oz gives me a weird look, and I shrug. “I went to school, had friends, Christmas presents, trick or treating, and all that normal shit.”

“And Yarrow didn’t have that.”

“Our agreement was you’d be the one to share the personal stuff.”

“Technically, we’re sharing Yarrow’s personal stuff so...”

“Yeah, yeah, but I want you to share.”

“Share what?”

“What was your first sexual experience like? Were you a stud right out of the gate?”

“My first time was with a teacher.”

I frown darkly. “Ick.”

“A lady teacher.”

“I assumed as much, and I stand by my ‘ick’ statement.”

“A lot of people hear about a lady teacher and think I was lucky.”

“I’m sure they do. When I was in sixth grade, some girl was dating a guy in college. The other girls were amazed at her luck. Seriously, besides fucking what does a twenty-year-old man want with a twelve-year-old girl? I don’t care how mature she was. Six graders are so fucking stupid, and any self-respecting adult would need more mental stimuli than a kid can provide.”

“I was a hunk, though, so the teacher wasn’t interested in my mental capabilities.”

I smirk at his bragging, but there’s no denying he’s lost some of his swagger since mentioning the teacher. “Of course, you were, and of course, she wasn’t.”

“I thought she cared about me. Does that sound stupid?” he asks, and I hear a hint of actual uncertainty.

“No.”

Oz wraps an arm around me and looks out at the wooded view from behind the castle. “She made it seem like I was special, but I was just her latest toy. I thought it was cool for a while. When my mom found out and put a stop to it, reality hit me hard. Not as hard as my mom hit the teacher though.”

“Your mom sounds badass.”

“She is,” he says, grinning proudly. “Now don’t you feel bad for threatening to shoot her?”

“I never threatened. I only prepared for that possible eventuality.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Back to your pervert teacher. How old were you?”

“Fourteen. She was maybe thirty. Not beautiful but pretty and she didn’t give me shit about sitting in the back so I could stretch out my legs.”

“How long did she groom you before the sex stuff started?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“Not really, but I shared way too much personal crap with you, so we need to even out stuff.”

“Do we though?”

“Yes, Oz, for my sanity, we very much do.”

Grinning, he nuzzles the top of my head. “Fine, if you insist. Well, she started making moves on me, and maybe some other guys, right when the school year began. I don’t know exactly. I was a teenager, so I didn’t pay attention to stuff. Girls were always analyzing shit, and I’d hear them stressing over every little thing, and I’d think they should chill. Except maybe I should have stressed a bit more too. I don’t know, but by the holidays of that year, she’d kissed me and was talking about how I was special to her. It was exciting, for sure.”

“How long did it go on?”

“Until right after the new year. I remember that my mom nearly crashed her car on the icy road on her way to school.”

“How did she find out?”

“I’d stayed home sick and puked all over myself. When Mom helped me clean up, she noticed hickeys on my thighs. She asked about the girl. The more I wouldn’t tell her, the harder she pushed. I was running a damn fever and finally told her just so she’d let me sleep. I woke up hours later to find out she’d gone to school and punched the teacher. Even though the cops were called, the teacher didn’t press charges against my mom and agreed to be transferred to a school somewhere else. With the teacher out of Rawlins, Mom didn’t press charges either. She didn’t want people knowing our business. Especially not the cops. By the time I was done with the flu, it was all over.”

“Did you miss the teacher?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t tell anyone that.”

I stare up at him and smile. “Thank you for telling me about your pervert teacher.”

“I haven’t talked about that since... Shit, I don’t think I ever have. Mom asked if I wanted to go to therapy, and I was like, ‘no fucking way.’ Therapy isn’t something people do in Rawlins. The nearest shrink is thirty miles away. I only know that because one of the old ladies for a dead brother was looking for someone to talk to. She ended up moving away since the town had too many bad memories.”

“Do you ever wish you could leave?”

“Never.”

Oz says the word with the determination of a man who plans to grow old and be buried in this neck of the woods. I admire his conviction and love for Rawlins. I want a place where I belong. Though I ruled parts of Little Memphis, nothing about it felt like home. The town was no more than bloodstained territory.

Now in Rawlins, I dream of building a real home for me and the girls. Duffy will have a stable place to grow up. Soon, Bay and Pepper will have kids too. The town isn’t right yet. Like the townhomes, Rawlins is a work in progress. One day, though, I hope to love the town at least half as much as Oz does.