“Neve.” The whisper woke me with a start and I bolted upright with a pounding heart and a sense of dread.

“What’s wrong?” I searched for the voice in the dark.

“Sorry to wake you, Darlin’, but we got ourselves a situation downstairs. Guardrail had a few too many.”

I sighed and fell back into my pillow. “He’s always had a few too many, Rooster—what else is new?”

He pulled the blankets off of me. “He crashed his bike.”

I sat up again. “Oh my god—is he okay? Where’s Doc?”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me from the bed. “Doc’s still gone with Charm and Gunner on a ru—club business, I mean. You’ve spent enough time shadowing him; can’t you patch him up?”

It wasn’t until we reached the last stair that I woke up enough to realize what he was asking me to do. Sure, I’d followed Doc around from time to time when my work load allowed it, but to fill in for him? I was nowhere near ready for that.

We reached the basement and I could hear the groans coming from the biker I’d come to regard as a father figure. I turned to Rooster. “You sure we can’t take him to a hospital—preferably one that caters to outlaws?”

He shook his head. “I’m not sure that sort of thing even exists.”

I tentatively approached the metal table, wishing like hell that I was still in bed. Joker and Twitch held Guardrail down by his arms, but the man continued to thrash and moan.

“Hey, friend,” I offered lightly, “What happened here?”

Sweat lined his brow from his struggle and he forced out through clenched teeth, “Had a little trouble navigating. My left foot took the brunt of it.”

I grabbed a cloth and ran it under cold water before applying it to his forehead. “Were you drinking?”

He nodded and looked away. “It’s just the way things have always been, Neve.”

I checked him over, starting at his head, working my way down. He’d been wearing his helmet and gloves so he fared better than he should’ve with what he’d had to drink. When I got down to his ankle he jerked away from my grasp.

“Easy there. You’re going to have to let me look at it.” His pants had been torn away from both legs when he crashed and he had road rash on the skin that was exposed on his left leg. I gave the other bikers their tasks and got to work; grabbing Doc’s go-to kit from the cabinet. I patiently picked pieces of gravel and debris from his skin with a pair of tweezers, while Rooster acted as my assistant, getting me whatever I needed to complete the job.

“You know,” I said quietly as I worked, “an estimated eighty-eight thousand people die from alcohol-related causes every year. It’s actually the third leading preventable cause of death.” I continued cleaning the wounds as best I could, falling silent after deciding that my speech on responsible drinking was falling on deaf ears.

“What are one and two?” Twitch asked, as he applied pressure to Guardrail’s shoulder, keeping him flat on the table. When I gave him a blank look, he elaborated, “The two leading causes of preventable—whatever you said.”

I smiled. “Oh. Uh, nicotine and sedentary lifestyles, respectively. Alcohol is a coping mechanism, obviously, and is still the most widely abused drug out there.”

I applied antibiotic cream and petroleum jelly before bandaging up his calf, while he looked at me in a way that was hard to describe; as if he was trying to figure me out. “How do you know so much about all of this?”

I shrugged, while taking in the damage to his foot. “I love statistics and I guess it just stays with me.” Thankfully, someone had the foresight to remove his boot, or we would’ve had to cut it off. His ankle was grotesquely swollen and already turning blue and purple from bruising. I gently palpated along his foot, just as Doc had shown me, to feel for broken bones.

“Do we have an x-ray machine?” Not like I would know what I was doing if we did, but it didn’t hurt to ask.

The men shook their heads, waiting for me to make my diagnosis. I took in a slice that ran along the inside of his right calf. “Okay, I’m going to need the sewing kit to stitch up this cut. I’m not feeling any broken bones; but I think it’s safe to say that you’ve got a sprained ankle,” I paused as I remembered high school gym. “RICE—rest, ice, compression, elevation. You’re going to have to stay down here for a while unless the men can move you upstairs.”

He clenched his jaw. “Whatever you think, Neve. So, you really think alcoholics are in the same category as drug addicts?”

Rooster handed me the kit and I pulled what I needed from it. I’d been practicing my stitches on bananas and oranges. This was my first human case. Obviously, I was going to keep that to myself—no one wanted to be the first patient.

I swallowed my fear and began disinfecting the leg wound, using his question as a distraction. I didn’t take offense; most everyone saw themselves as better than an addict, never realizing that with one slip they could find themselves in the exact same boat. “Well, yes. Every addiction started somewhere; some moment where things got overwhelming and instead of facing it, you turned to a vice—a drug.”

He winced as the needle connected with his skin and I paused. “Just get it over with,” he forced out. “I’m gonna talk to keep myself from coming off the goddamned table, okay? Is that how you ended up here?”

I bit down on the corner of my lip and bent over; carefully placing another stitch with shaky hands. Wasn’t that how I’d ended up lost in the woods? An unhealthy desire to be the best? “Something like that,” I muttered distractedly.

“I enlisted the day I turned eighteen. That’s what the men in my family did and that’s what I wanted to do—uh, can you guys give us a minute?” The three shuffled out into the hall, leaving us alone and Guardrail continued, “Thing is, I was gonna break away from tradition and not come back. This club? It wasn’t ever in my plans.”

I paused again and straightened up, stretching the muscles in my lower back. “What happened?”

The journal had never mentioned anything about Guardrail—at least, not that I’d been able to decipher. It was hard to know when they were only mentioned by their real names.

He frowned. “I made it as far as the medical exam; it turned out that I had a heart defect. BAVD—Bicuspid Aortic Valve Disease—a fuckin’ mouthful to say. That alone wasn’t a disqualifier though and I thought I still had a chance. The aortic stenosis they also discovered was what ended my career before it even began. A fucking birth defect killed everything.”

I returned my focus to his leg and the stitches, afraid to break the spell that had gotten him to open up. “Did they surgically correct it?”

“Oh yeah, the club paid for that shit too. Got myself a nice mechanical valve. Lay your head on my chest and listen.”

I did as he asked and heard the click; realizing that I’d heard it before, but had attributed the sound to white noise.

“I lost my chance to serve and found myself indebted to the club all at once. They let me open a body shop down in Denver, but it was just another front for Luck’s running.”

Something pricked my memory as I moved back down to his leg.

Mac came back to visit his Ma and offered me a job as a mechanic at his shop down in Denver.

He was Mac; and obviously, he hadn’t been able to hold on to even the smallest bit of freedom that the club had allowed him. “How’d you end up back here?”

His nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw. “Some things went down that required me to give up Denver and come back home. Are we almost done here?”

I’d struck a nerve and any good that had been done seemed to unravel until Guardrail had completely closed himself off again.

“Let’s move you up to your room. That way someone’s close enough to check in on you every few hours.”

He agreed and the other guys came back in just as I placed the last stitch.

It hit me out of nowhere.

This time, the craving for cocaine was stronger than before, muffling the sounds of the men around me, until all I could focus on was my need for it.

I wanted to run over to the cabinets and begin throwing doors open to look for blow. I knew they had to have some around here somewhere. I’d wait until they went back to bed and then I’d ransack the whole damn clubhouse if I needed to.

“You alright, kid?” Twitch eyed me curiously, “You zoned out on us.”

I nodded absentmindedly and ended up knocking the tools needed to be sterilized into the floor. “Yeah, just tired—that’s all.”

Rooster placed a hand on my arm. “Why don’t you go on back upstairs? We can take over from here. Joker, you mind getting Neve back to her room?”

The mute shook his head and offered me his arm and I wearily took it, even though I wanted to run screaming from the room—to claw at my skin until I could shed it. Anything to not feel like this. I’d been giving Guardrail advice as if I’d somehow mastered the art of staying sober.

I was nothing but a fraud.

Joker helped me back into bed and then left, closing the door softly behind him. I focused on each inhale and exhale while waiting for the clubhouse to settle into silence. I willed my mind to relax, but nothing seemed to work.

I was damn near salivating at the thought of getting high.

I listened as the men carried Guardrail up to his room and then doors began opening and closing. The sounds of their voices faded, but I waited an extra thirty minutes just to be safe.

I hated myself.

Loathed my need for this drug.

I didn’t understand it—I’d kicked the habit.

I shoved the blankets off my legs in frustration before roughly running my hands over my face. I needed to stay in bed—just close my eyes and get some sleep.

I lasted thirty seconds and then I was up, creeping silently across the carpet in my room. I was just going to look around; not use. I turned the door handle and took two steps into the darkened hallway before falling over a figure in the dark.

“I thought I might get some company if I camped out in the hallway,” the voice whispered to me as I crawled over him and pushed myself up onto my knees.

“Why are you out here, Twitch?”

He offered me his hand and pulled us both up off the floor. “I could ask you the same thing, but I think we both know the answer to that. C’mon.”

He led me downstairs and out toward the back deck before gesturing to an empty chair. “Have a seat.” He started pacing across the deck as if he was arguing with himself, but stopped abruptly and turned back to me. “How bad is it?”

“Truthfully?”

He sighed. “Only way to be, kid.”

I chewed on my lip. “I want to crawl out of my skin. I just want to feel happy again. To not feel anything, but mind-numbing pleasure.”

Twitch nodded, immediately understanding what I meant. “Charm’ll probably have my ass, but I can get you something to take the edge off.”

I wiped my sweaty palms on my sweatpants, resisting the urge to bounce my legs in excitement. He stepped back inside long enough to grab a glass pipe before sitting down in the chair across from me. He must’ve noted my wary expression because he held the pipe up toward me. “Hash pipe, kid. Jesus, you think I’d bring crack out here? Charm might be pissed that I’m giving you weed, but he’d have me strung up over crack.”

I watched as he packed the bowl, using the porch light to see. He lit the end of it and took a few puffs before offering it to me.

“I’ve never done this before.”

He nodded. “You prefer a bong or a joint?”

I clarified, “I mean, I’ve never smoked pot before. Like ever.”

Twitch’s eyes widened. “Fuck me. I just assumed with your…history…well, it doesn’t matter.” He showed me how to inhale and we passed the pipe back and forth a few times.

He was right—the marijuana diminished the cravings until I could think clearly again. It was a completely different high than what I’d ever experienced with blow—cocaine left me feeling jittery, but with the weed, I felt relaxed.

Calm.

My mind wasn’t racing with thoughts of the past. I was in control again; quietly existing alongside Twitch. It was nice—just sitting here with him. I felt like we could stay right here forever. We wouldn’t worry about what tomorrow would bring; the two of us would just enjoy the scenic view from the porch.

The fog from the cocaine withdrawals left my system and my brain—not content to remain idle—went right back to focusing on Charm and all the reasons why he kissed me and then took off. I closed my eyes and let the back of my head hit the chair with a small sigh.

New plan—I would sit out here forever until I unraveled the mystery that was Charm, Prez of the Scarred Savages.

“Better?”

I opened one eye and nodded at him. Twitch might’ve only been a few years older than me; it was hard to tell. The parts of his face that weren’t covered in wild facial hair were smooth and clear, indicating youth. His beard was straight out of the nineteenth century, with thick mutton chops connecting into a full beard near his chin. He was underweight, a side effect of his drug use, most likely. It was his eyes that made it impossible to guess; they were hard...aged. As if he’d seen more than one person ever should in life.

I didn’t know how many times he’d fallen off the wagon, but judging by the visible track marks on his arms, it must’ve been a lot. His arms were sleeved in tattoos, but the scars were still visible through the ink. There were several on his wrists that looked a little like slashes.

He surprised me when he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and I brought my eyes back up to his face. His hand lingered near my cheek. “You’re a good person, Neve. I think you’ll make it.”

I leaned into his palm and smiled. “So are you, Twitch. Thanks for looking out for me tonight—maybe we could keep this between us though?”

He stroked my cheek. “Yeah, kid. Just me and you.” His eyes were half-open and he looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep. He set the pipe down and grabbed me in a tight hug. Just when I expected him to release me, he pulled me onto his lap.

I looked at him questioningly. “What are you doing?”

“Shhhh…” He whispered. “Just let me hold you. I won’t try anything, I swear. It’s been a long time since I’ve just been close to someone else. Do you ever feel like that? Like you just need to feel another human being to not feel so fucking alone?”

I settled against his shoulder and closed my eyes. I nodded because I knew exactly what he meant. I’d yearned for that very thing since my parent’s deaths. There were times that I’d been sitting in the very same room, mere feet from Clint, yet felt as though I was locked inside a prison cell. I couldn’t imagine that being with the Savages would’ve given him many opportunities to meet someone and fall in love. “What did you do before this, Twitch? Have you always been with the club?”

He shifted me over before answering. “Grew up in the club. I joined the Marines after high school, but got injured in combat in Afghanistan—blew out my knee. That was it.”

He continued talking, unaware that I’d gone stiff in his arms.

What were the odds that there would’ve been two men who’d gone overseas to fight?

Two men who would’ve blown out their knees, ending their military careers early?

It couldn’t have been. Charm hated him—he never would’ve allowed him into the club.

I pulled back and stared down at him in disbelief, finally seeing a truth I’d missed. They weren’t identical, but those eyes were the exact same as his twin’s. In spite of what he’d witnessed in battle, he still had a kindness about him that Gunner lacked.

“Bobby?” I whispered, as my hand traced down the side of his face and he went white.

His own hand came up to cup my cheek, his voice quivering as he said, “I knew you’d find your way back. That first morning, I sat out there, praying you’d come back to me.”

A tear slipped from my eye and I began shaking my head. “Twitch, no. It’s me. Neve. I’m not her. I’m so sorry.”

He released me and stood up, knocking me over in the process. Somehow, his hand shot out and caught me right before I hit the porch though. I expected him to say something, but he just kept studying my face, as if it might morph into hers.

Finally, he took a step back and ran both hands over his face roughly. “How? Jesus fuck, is this a joke? You knew who I was. Your hair—your eyes…” He paused and watched me helplessly.

I ran the back of my hand across my eyes as more tears fell. “I read Charm’s notebook. I didn’t mean to, I swear. I just put two and two together from that. I’m sorry.” I admitted it all, realizing that these weren’t just characters in a story. They were men who’d grown up in a bad situation that had only gotten worse as time went on. I may have come in and read their stories, but I didn’t really know them.

And, in that moment, what I’d done felt wrong—even disrespectful somehow.

He surprised me when he pressed his lips to my temple before backing away slowly. “I’m just gonna head up to bed. You sure you’re good now? Not feeling any more cravings?”

I shook my head. “Twitch, I’m fine. You don’t have to leave, I can go.”

His lips flattened into a straight line, disappointment radiating off of him before he left me alone on the porch. I waited a few minutes before going in to retrieve Tales from Both Sides of the Brain; if ever I needed a distraction, tonight was it.

I curled up in the chair, struggling to focus on the words. The author had written about his daughter marrying his second wife’s brother, which should’ve held my attention, but my heart just wasn’t in it.

The words blended into gibberish as I struggled to make sense of Charm allowing Twitch to patch in. The sounds of summer surrounded and lulled me into a state somewhere between awake and asleep. Every few seconds, my body would jolt back to consciousness, only to drift off again.

“Neve…”

I shifted, convinced I was dreaming because there was no way I was hearing that voice.

“Neve, honey, wake up.”

I sat up, unaware of how long I’d been out. The sky was still dark, but I was no longer alone. Somehow, I’d slept through the rumble of motorcycles. “I’m awake, sorry.”

Charm took in the book on my lap and the blanket I’d snagged from my bed. “Doing some late-night reading?”

I shook my head. “No, I was actually about to go off on a moonlit killing spree in the woods. Care to join me?”

He squeezed his eyes shut even as a grin lit up his face. “Jesus Christ, Neve. Some of the stuff that comes out of your mouth. What have you been up to since I left?”

Emboldened by the smile on his face, I said, “Left? Don’t you mean ran away?”

Charm’s smile faded. “It wasn’t like that. I had—”

“Oh, I know. ‘Club business.’ What does she win, Johnny? Neve, you’re the proud owner of a new car!”

I was on a roll. I didn’t know whether it was the pot or just my pent-up emotions over what we’d shared at the cliffs that day.

He sank down onto the chair in front of mine. “Are you high right now?”

I focused on his right ear as I answered. “No. Are you?”

He stiffened, even as he leaned forward. “Why are you so mad? You made your feelings known and I’ve stayed away. End of discussion.”

I sputtered, “End of discussion? You kiss me out of the blue and it’s just end of discussion?” I got up and began pacing the length of the porch, frantic energy coursing through my veins.

Charm took the opportunity to stretch his legs across my vacated chair, firing me up even more. He had no right looking like he was about to fall asleep, while I was over here still waiting for answers. “What do you want, Neve? You were there and I took a chance. Ain’t nothin’ to talk about, Sweetheart. It didn’t mean shit.”

I took a step backward, as if his words had physically slapped me across the face, instead of just emotionally. “So, if it meant nothing, did you tell your girl?”

He scratched at his beard and frowned. “My girl? What the hell are you talking about?”

My eyes stung with unshed tears, but I wasn’t doing that. I wasn’t going to fall apart over something that had obviously been nothing more than an opportunity that presented itself. I tried to phrase the words in a way that in no way implied that I’d been reading his journal. “I saw the picture in your room, of you and a woman. I couldn’t destroy a relationship. You seemed so happy and I don’t wanna be the person who messes that up.”

That’s what I did, wasn’t it? Destroy things that were once good?

So, maybe I’d made him smile a handful of times. Rae had probably done the very same thing hundreds more. It was naïve of me to think that what we had between us had been special. Hell, he’d just come right out and told me that it hadn’t meant a damn thing.

Charm leaned back in the chair, his arms crossed over his chest, giving nothing away. “So, your only reason for pushing me away is because of the picture you saw? And if you hadn’t seen it, then what?”

Well, I read the journal too…so, I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t live with being your sloppy seconds when I’ve read about how fiercely you loved Rae.

Obviously, that was something I could never vocalize.

I sighed. “Well, I probably would’ve done the same thing. If I let my personal feelings cloud my judgment, then what happens when things fall apart? I really like it here—these men have become like brothers to me. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”

“You think I’d throw you out if it didn’t work out between us? I wouldn’t do that to you, honey. You’ve proven yourself to be a part of this club.”

Honey.

He’d said it before, when I had the nightmare, and then again when we went cliff jumping. It was such a small word, yet it stirred up big feelings inside of me. Feelings that I could never act on. When he called me ‘sweetheart’ it was different. He’d always said it condescendingly.

I hurriedly rushed out, “This is all hypothetical—it’s not like it matters.”

But, it had mattered.

Every second spent with him left me wanting more. I mashed my lips together in an effort not to cry.

Charm watched me carefully. “Neve, maybe you should go upstairs—try to get some sleep. Things will be better in the morning.”

I nodded and he stood up. Just before I made it to the door, he intercepted me. “I—” He stood there frozen, his massive hands gripping my shoulders to the point of pain.

I didn’t mean to, but the hint of cigar smoke that clung to him hit my nose, igniting memories that left me unsteady. I leaned in and inhaled and then his hands were on my face, backing me up toward the side of the lodge.

I’d never wanted to be someone without a conscience, until now. I wanted all of the pleasure and none of the guilt.

Charm’s mouth hovered inches above mine, so close that his hair tickled along my cheek. All I had to do was stretch up onto my toes. One small movement and we’d be connected.

His exhales were ragged, but warm against my face. I tilted my chin up even more, begging him to make a move, while my mind waged a war with morality.

“Goodnight, Neve,” he whispered, and the spell was broken. He held the door open for me on my way inside, but refused to make eye contact again before disappearing down the hall to his study.

I moved up the stairs faster than ever before and slipped back into bed with a pounding heart and an incredible sense of guilt. I was still in the process of steadying my breathing when I was struck by the full impact of Twitch’s words.

If he was under the assumption that I was Rae reincarnated, then there hadn’t been some last-minute miracle.

Either Twitch’s mind was gone from years of drug use or Rae was dead. Neither was a particularly positive conclusion.

And there was no way that I could stay much longer. Perhaps there wasn’t any place in the world where I’d be immune to the effects of Charm, but I wasn’t willing to compete with a ghost for his affections.