by T. O. Smith
Three sexy, tattooed, alpha presidents . . . and she's at the center of them all.
The one man who always promised to love me - to take care of me - ruined me.
Joey? He's my hero.
Joey saw me - broken, barely surviving - barely breathing - and he taught me how to breathe again.
He gave me a purpose.
But we were oil and water. And Joey? He was the oil - trapping me, smothering me.
But I love him - I love this man with every fiber of my being.
He's made me promise to keep him with me because without him, I'm not living. I'm dying.
And when River steps into my life?
He teaches me how to live all while Joey reminds me how to breathe.
But throw in Tristan - my first love - and it's all one big, screwed up mess.
For Riley, my reason for everything that I do.
And for every woman who has ever felt completely misunderstood and unloved – may you find hope again in this book.
©May 2021. T.O. Smith. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: Noxity de Lucora (Special Edition Hardcover) & T.O. Smith
Editing: T.O. Smith
Proofreading: Taylor Jade
ASIN: B08R6NVLBW
Paperback ISBN: 979-8722003300
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1668500064
ONE
ADELAIDE
“Come on, Adelaide, it’s time to go,” Joey told me, a scowl settling over his features as I continued dancing on top of the table, not paying him a bit of mind – purposely ignoring him.
I was in a right fucking mood, and I really just wanted to forget what this day was – what it meant to me. And Joey was doing his best to shit all over that.
Joey was a control freak, and though I loved the man with every fiber of my being, he was overbearing – too much for a woman like me that needed freedom and independence – needed to be able to make her own decisions without the Sons of Hell’s President breathing fire down my neck all of the time.
Joey and I didn’t mix – never had – no matter how much we wanted to. We were oil and water. And Joey was the oil – always smothering me.
“You’re fucking wasted, pretty girl.” Oh, that sweet name. That name would forever melt my insides. “Get your ass down here now.” He snapped up at me. I only continued to ignore him, and though I knew it was pissing him off, I couldn’t bring myself to care. I just wanted to be left alone, to forget the pain and heartache in my chest.
“Loosen up, Joey. Let the girl have fun.” I heard his twin, Jessie, snap at him. “You’re always up her ass. She’s not your girl – not right now. You two ended that.” She reminded him.
Her words felt like a slap across my face – a sore reminder that Joey and I just couldn’t ever get it right together.
“She needs a goddamn man to put her in line.” Joey snapped back at her. “This shit has gone on long enough.”
I clenched my jaw, my body momentarily stopping before I forced myself to start again, forcing myself to block out the familiar pain of losing my best friend – exactly one, torturous year ago – on my fucking birthday.
My birthday had become a series of tragedies, and it was now a day I longed to just forget about.
“Am I interrupting something?” I heard a voice that I hadn’t heard in years ask us.
I abruptly stopped dancing so quickly that I instantly lost my footing since I was so wasted. A shriek left my lips as I fell forward, my arms flailing for something to grasp onto. Everyone turned to stare at me, and I screamed as the floor came closer to my face. With a muttered curse, Joey quickly caught me in his muscular arms before I could face plant on the floor – always there to save me from my own shit – shit that I tended to always get myself into.
Always my savior – my hero – the reason that I’m still breathing today.
Despite the rage that I could see in his eyes, he gently set me on my feet on the floor before he released me, the muscle in his jaw ticking furiously. “I told you to get off of that table, Adelaide.” He snapped down at me, his frame easily towering over my shorter one.
Momentarily forgetting about our visitor, I grinned up at my for-the-moment-ex as I sloppily pressed my finger to Joey’s lips. He released a soft sigh, his eyes softening for the tiniest moment before they hardened again. “Shh,” I told him, drawing out the sound. He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re such a party pooper.” I slurred.
Joey rolled his eyes at me, but I saw a smirk twitch at his lips for a moment. He’d never been one for joking and messing around, but somehow, I seemed to kind of bring out the brighter side of his personality. But that was probably due to the sort of strange dynamic we had together.
Oil and water – always smothering me, trapping me, holding me down.
But fuck if we didn’t deeply care about each other. I have never loved another man as much as I love Joey Dirks – the president of Sons of Hell.
Joey was always so damn serious, but I was the woman who smoothed out his rough edges, who made him feel human again because, in our world, too many feelings could kill you.
I was eighteen when Joey had taken me under his wing, giving me a reason to live, to fight. And it was my twentieth birthday when my best friend lost her fight to cancer, and I started my downwards spiral – getting deeper into the life of an outlaw.
But Joey had never left my side – never left me to fight on my own. It didn’t matter if we were on the outs, not getting along. This man in front of me never let me down.
“It’s been a fucking year, Adelaide.” Joey snapped down at me.
I narrowed my eyes at him, fire lighting up my dark eyes. Joey clenched his jaw, a look of regret passing through his eyes before he smothered it, evenly meeting my burning gaze, not intimidated by me in the slightest – not like his other men would have been. “You really want to do this?” I snapped at him, my words still slurred, but that one sentence sobered me up a tiny bit.
It was my birthday today – my twenty-first birthday at that – which meant it was exactly a year since I’d lost my rock to cancer. It had been an entire year since I’d walked into her apartment and found her dead – lifeless – on her couch.
Joey clenched his jaw. “We’ve all been waiting for you to come around, Adelaide, but enough is fucking enough.” I could have breathed fire at that moment as I glared up at him, my hands tightening into fists at my sides. “You’re twenty-one fucking years old today. It’s time to get your shit together.”
I sent a right hook against his face, not giving a fuck about the consequences. Joey could be violent if he wanted to. He’d never hit me, but he was an MC president, and shit like I’d just pulled couldn’t go unpunished.
His face swung to the left, and I instantly saw blood well up on his lip and trickle down his jaw. He turned his blazing, dark eyes to me, danger glittering in their depths. I swallowed thickly, knowing how volatile Joey could be. Jessie quickly grabbed him, pulling him back from me before he could retaliate like I knew he wanted.
I felt large, calloused hands settle over my bare shoulders, sending a shiver racing down my spine as his colo
gne wrapped around me. I would know those hands anywhere – could pick up the smell of that cologne in any setting. He hadn’t changed.
Tristan Groves.
My best friend’s brother that I had once been madly in love with.
But that was before he shattered my heart on my eighteenth birthday.
After last year, I was beginning to think my birthdays were cursed.
“Why don’t you go cool off, Joey?” Tristan suggested, his voice filled with so much coldness that some of the people around us stopped dancing and turned to see what was going on. They never paid Joey and I much mind – knew we fought all of the time. But someone daring to stand up against Joey – another MC president at that?
It was very possible that blood was about to be spilled.
I flung Tristan’s hands off my shoulders, stepping closer to Joey. He reached out and pulled me against him, his left arm wrapping around my shoulders, holding me protectively to his body. We may be oil and water, but he didn’t rip my goddamn heart out of my chest. I could always count on Joey when it came down to it.
Tristan? He took one of the worst times of my life to fuck me up.
“How about you get the fuck out of my clubhouse, Grim?” Joey snarled at him, using Tristan’s street name. “And keep your fucking hands off of my woman,” Joey growled, his arm flexing around me. I slid my hands under his cut, keeping him calm, holding me with him.
That was the one promise he made to me – that I would always be able to keep him with me, no matter what happened between us.
I squeaked in shock when Tristan quickly grabbed me and pushed me behind him before he stepped toe to toe with Joey, both of their heights evenly matched, though Joey was just a bit more muscular – and a little older. “I was here to make a deal, Joey.” Tristan snarled at Joey. “But I can always change my fucking mind and instead spill blood all over your fucking carpets.”
What the hell was Tristan talking about? A deal?
Joey had cut ties to the Sons of Death as soon as he found out what Tristan did to me. I hadn’t even been under Joey’s care for a week, but Joey quickly cut all connections, and they’d been enemies since.
Before I could begin to voice my questions – to try to figure out what the hell Tristan was on about – I leaned over and vomited all over the floor.
“Fucking hell, Adelaide!” Joey snapped as Jessie quickly gripped my shoulder and held my hair back out of my face. “You’re cleaning this shit up!” He barked at me.
“Ignore him, sweetheart,” Jessie told me softly, rubbing my back soothingly as I retched again. “You alright?”
I nodded at her, not admitting weakness. I never would – especially not in front of Tristan. Standing back up to my full height, I glared up at Tristan. “Why are you here, Tristan?” I demanded. “This club doesn’t make deals with the Sons of Death. They’re actually loyal to the people they care about.”
Pain momentarily flashed in Tristan’s eyes, but honestly, I didn’t care. “I’m here to make a deal with Joey.” He turned his gaze to Joey, ignoring me. “In exchange for us leaving your crew and your territory alone, I want Adelaide. You deny me this, and I’ll fucking wipe your goddamn club off the face of the earth.”
Joey’s face lit up with an almost uncontrollable fury, as did my own. This was my home – my family – my fucking crew just as much as it was Joey’s. “Over my fucking dead body, Grim.” Joey snarled. “Adelaide is mine.”
I swallowed thickly. Why the fuck did Tristan want me? He’d tossed me aside three years ago as if I had never meant shit to him.
Tristan’s eyes darkened with rage. “Let me make this clear, Joey,” Tristan said with chilling softness. My heart pounded hard in my chest, my eyes nervously flickering to Joey. This wasn’t the Tristan I remembered. This was a monster. “I will be leaving with Adelaide tonight with or without your consent.” I narrowed my eyes at Joey in a silent warning. He better fucking protect me. I would not be fucking leaving with Tristan.
An understanding passed between us as Joey flickered his eyes to me; Joey would do what he could to keep me with him.
That was all that I could ask for. “We can do this civilly, or I can start dropping bodies until you give in.” Tristan snapped at Joey, not missing our silent exchange. “Which is it?”
“Hold on!” I shouted, holding up a hand. “Don’t I get a fucking say in this?” I snarled up at Tristan, my eyes blazing with rage.
Tristan shook his head at me. I sneered at him, and his lips twitched up into a smirk at my rage. I couldn’t fucking believe his audacity. I didn’t want him – didn’t want to be with him.
He had fucking ruined me. Because of him, I was a mess of a fucking woman.
He turned his attention back to Joey. “Well, which is it?”
Suddenly, something hit me hard in my temple, and I let out a cry of pain, my vision quickly darkening as I began to crumple to the floor.
“Adelaide!” Joey roared.
The last thing I remembered was gun shots and Tristan’s muscular arms wrapping around my body before I could completely drop to the ground.
■ ■ ■
My head was throbbing, and I could taste stale vomit in my mouth, not to mention it felt like I’d chewed on fucking cotton balls all night.
Fuck, I had partied way too hard last night.
I slowly ripped my eyes open and cursed softly as I quickly took in my surroundings. This certainly wasn’t the fucking clubhouse.
And normally, I woke up with Joey’s arm thrown over my waist as he snored next to me. But Joey wasn’t anywhere to be found. He never left me alone after a night of partying.
So, where the fuck was I?
The bedroom door opened as I began to push myself up into a sitting position, my head spinning at the movement, nausea rising fast in my throat. I swallowed it back down – a master at keeping myself from getting sick after so many nights of losing myself at the bottom of a liquor bottle.
Tristan strode into the room, a disgruntled scowl settled on his features. Rage rose hot and fast in veins. Why the fuck was I here – with him?
Fucking hell, I hadn’t seen him in three years – not since he had ripped my heart out and stomped all over it in his steel-toed, black boots on my eighteenth birthday at my birthday party that he had organized for me.
I hadn’t even seen him at my best friend’s funeral – his twin’s funeral.
“Morning, Addy.” He said, shooting a devilish smirk my way that still had my stomach twisting into knots. Fury laced through my veins at myself.
Christ, he couldn’t really still be able to affect me like this, could he? It was unfair – life was fucking unfair – and half the time, I felt like it was laughing at me in my face.
I didn’t want to feel anything for Tristan but anger and hatred.
“Why am I here?” I demanded to know, wincing when the sound of my voice just made my head hurt so much worse than it already did.
Tristan silently strode over to me and grabbed a bottle of medicine off of the nightstand and a bottle of water. Different emotions swirled in my gut. He had thought about how I would feel when I woke up – enough to set medicine and water near me so I would have quick access to it when I was finally awake.
I hated that it made me long for more of that care. Tristan had never been this attentive when we were together. He just took care of me, but I had been hopelessly in love with him back then – so in love that I overlooked how bad of a boyfriend he was.
“Here.” Tristan gruffly spoke up, holding out two pills and the now opened bottle of water.
Silently, I took the medicine, keeping my eyes steady with his. I didn’t care how he made me feel. I was here because of him. I wanted to know why the fuck I wasn’t with the Sons of Hell – with Joey. “Well?” I demanded.
He shrugged. “I found out that for the last three years, you’ve been with Joey’s crew.” He informed me, his anger twisting his features into a snarl, but he didn’t intim
idate me. Instead, I only got angrier at the fact that he thought he had any right to be pissed about what I’ve been doing with my life when he was the one that brutally ripped my heart and soul apart.
“I brought you back here where you belong.” I opened my mouth to snap at him, but he kept going. “Why the fuck were you with Joey’s club?” He snarled down at me.
“Because three years ago on my fucking birthday, Tristan, you fucking ripped my goddamn heart out.” I snarled at him. His face paled slightly at my words as he swallowed thickly. “I wanted you to hurt as much as you’d hurt me,” I admitted angrily. “So, I fucking betrayed you by joining the one fucking crew you can’t stand.” I lied. In all reality, Joey had offered me a night of fun, and I’d taken it with both hands, just wanting to forget about my heartbreak.
But later that night, when he had gotten ready to drop me off at home and saw where I lived, he just shook his head and drove back off.