RANGER
Heartlands MC
Frankie Love
Contents
About
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue 1
Epilogue 2
Heartlands MC
About the Author
About
Ranger: Heartlands MC
When I find Ruby stranded, abandoned, and terrified, I know this innocent woman belongs with me.
I spent years in the trenches but now I’m home, in the Heartlands, and I’m ready to put down roots with this girl I never knew I needed.
Even though Ruby’s a preacher’s daughter, she’s lost her faith in love.
When my worst fear comes to pass, it’s my duty to prove to her that true love conquers all.
I will find her, whatever the cost.
She may be lost, but by God, she will be found.
Dear Reader,
Ranger’s devotion to Ruby is no exception.
He will love her hard, love her deep, love her forever.
And then they’ll ride off into the sunset… while stopping for a few quickies along the way!
xo, frankie
The alpha males of Heartlands Motorcycle Club are the most possessive, devoted, and territorial men in the country when it comes to the ones they love.
Heartlands is a rough and rugged new series of standalone stories. Written by four of the most trusted names in short and steamy romance, each book will get your motors revved and your hearts racing. Guaranteed.
XO, Frankie, Dani, Olivia, and Hope
1
Ranger
The sun is just beginning to set, purples and pinks cross the sky like a painting. As I ride down the highway, I can’t help but thank God for this sense of freedom. A freedom I fought for as an Army Ranger.
Now I’m home, back in the heart of America, living the goddamn dream — the Road Captain for Heartlands Motorcycle Club, working on bikes down at the garage by day and running Ride or Die — our bar — by night. Always thanking my lucky stars that I made it out of the war zone alive.
Sure, my heart was pretty fucking bruised after seeing what I saw, but nothing was broken. Nothing shattered. Here I am, in one piece. Can’t say as much for some of the Rangers I stood with.
It makes my commitment to this brotherhood all the stronger. All the more real. I know what it means to make a sacrifice — I’ve seen it. And I am committed to doing what it takes to protect the ones I love.
I grip the handlebars, accelerating as I ride down the open stretch of highway, wheat fields to my left and right. I pass the Johnsons’ big red barn and pickup trucks zoom past loaded with bales of hay.
As I wind my way toward my exit, I see a shitty two-door car with the hood up, smoke everywhere, on the side of the road. A woman is pacing, hands wrapped around her curvy waist.
Pulling over, I get off my Electra Glide and run a hand over my beard. It’s the middle of summer, but as the wind sweeps over the fields around us, I look up to the sky — a storm is brewing. Turning that pink and purple sunset into a witch’s cauldron.
“You okay, ma’am?” I say, her back toward me. What I see though is curves covered in a simple pale blue sundress, long wavy blonde hair down her back, sandals on her feet, and a petite frame that makes my cock twitch.
She turns, eyes brimming with tears, and she looks like an angel standing there on the side of the road, lit up by the sunset, illuminated as the clouds begin to roll in. I step toward her, knowing she is in need of something, desperate for it. I feel that from her even though I’m a few feet away.
She looks me over, and I see fear burning in her eyes. I understand. I know that my presence makes some people uneasy. I’m tall, with broad shoulders and muscles pulling at the seams of my white tee shirt. I’m a good foot taller than her, with a thick beard and tattoos running over my veins telling stories a sweet thing like her might not want to hear.
Still, I move closer. This car is smoking real bad and she needs to get out of the way. “What happened here?” I ask.
“It started smoking, shaking, but I thought the car was drivable. It had been sitting out in the yard for months but… I think it’s busted and…”
“Shit,” I say, noticing the oil dripping from a cracked block and gas spouting from a busted fuel line. The damn thing must have shaken itself half to death. This thing is about to blow. I grab her, knowing it might seem rough, but my heart pounds as the engine roars with a last-ditch effort. The exhaust pipe fumes and pistons are fighting for life.
I pull her to the ground by my bike, covering her with my body as a massive burst of fire overtakes the tiny car.
“Oh my!” she cries, eyes blazing with fear. She trembles under me, and I move, lifting her body from the ground, making sure we are out of harm’s way. “My life was in that car,” she says, shaking as I pull her to my chest, scared she might do something stupid — run back for something that can’t be saved.
“You’ll be okay,” I tell her. “You’re safe — that’s what matters.”
She shakes her head, looking up at me. “No, I’m not,” she says, wiping her eyes. “I was running away.”
I search her face, wanting to understand, but the storm clouds break, and rain begins to fall. I need to get home — the worse the storm gets, the dumber it will be to be out in it on my bike. “We gotta make a break for it.”
She swallows, looking back at the car, then up at me. “I don’t even know your name.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” I ask as lightning slices the black sky.
I don’t wait for a response. Taking her by the hand, I lead her to my bike. Grabbing my helmet, I buckle it under her chin. She doesn’t look happy, but she doesn’t resist, either. There’s nothing but a barn two miles away, and beyond that, nothing but wheat fields and highway. I was out scouting routes for a possible club run.
She doesn’t have much of a choice. If she had money, an ID, a bag — but it’s all long gone, up in a fiery furnace. I’m her only hope and she knows it.
I get on my bike and tell her to jump on and hold tight. She does as I ask, her hands wrapping around my waist, squeezing so tight that I almost laugh. But then she whispers, “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
And I understand her vise-like grip. She’s terrified.
I grip my handlebars, accelerating hard. Wanting to get this girl with golden hair and storm blue eyes and fragile heart — beating hard, so damn hard — home.
And for some inexplicable reason that I’m chalking up to it having been a long ass day, instead of asking where she wants to be dropped off, I head straight to my place, not once looking back at her car that minutes ago was engulfed in flames.
2
Ruby
Nothing about today is going how I planned. This great escape of mine is turning out to be a disaster. I ran to get away from Slider… but now I’m on the back of a motorcycle, holding onto a stranger’s body. Wondering where I am supposed to go from here.
I’m more alone than I have ever been in my life.
Tears fall down my cheeks, and I squeeze my eyes shut, wind whipping against me as the sunshiny day turns to a reckless night wrapped up in rain, thunder. Lightning cracks through the deep sea-colored sky.
Not that I’ve ever seen a sea like that — not in real life, at least. I’ve seen pictures in books — but I’ve never
travelled far from home, from my father’s homestead. Communing with the congregation he led was my only connection with the outside world.
Now though, I long for an ocean I’ve never swam in, wanting to get swept away in a tide that would carry me away somewhere, far, far from here.
But as this man drives his bike off the exit toward a big building set among oak trees and fields of hay, his voice, a low timbre, washes over me. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”
I wonder if he is my ocean. If this stranger is both my deep-sea dive and my life raft. He rescued me, and now he is promising me that everything is going to be okay. My body shakes as he parks his bike, not knowing what comes next, but not wanting to be alone. Because I have no one else in this world who can help me. Lydia, though she’d want to, can’t come to my rescue. I’m supposed to be the one setting up a new life in a city big enough to get lost in. Once I’m settled, I’ll come for her.
But my little sister is going to be okay for now — Father isn’t sentencing her to a life with a man like Slider. She is still only sixteen. She has some time. But me, I’m supposed to get married, the wedding set in a few days. I couldn’t stay.
The parking lot is filled with motorcycles. Men huddle in circles under the covered awning, wearing leather and worn denim, smoking cigarettes. There are women with them dressed in short skits and high heels, their clothes accentuating their beauty. I feel small all of a sudden. He’s brought me to a place as far from home as I can imagine, even though it’s only a few hours’ drive from where I’ve lived all my life.
The stranger helps me off the bike, and I realize he is handsome. Incredibly handsome, with deep eyes and strong hands, and muscles everywhere. I was preoccupied when he got me away from the fire, and I hadn’t looked at him properly. I want to keep looking up at him, looking him over, but we can’t stand here in the parking lot — the rain is pouring down on us, soaking through my flimsy dress, his white tee shirt drenched. Water falls down my cheeks as he unbuckles my helmet, storing it away. He takes his helmet off too, and the rain keeps pouring down.
He pulls me into the building. A bar.
I draw in a sharp breath, scared. He takes my hand, turning to me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I shake my head, droplets of rain falling to the floorboards. It’s a dark room. Music plays and the bar is packed, customers sitting on stools. “I’ve never been in a bar before.”
He frowns, leaning in. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.” Then I smile, despite the trepidation surrounding the day. “I just had my birthday.”
He gives me a soft smile then, an eyebrow lifting. “That so?” Someone hollers and he raises a hand. “Gimme a sec?”
I swallow, scared to be left alone, and he must realize this. My dress is soaked though, clinging to my skin. My hair is wet — I’m sure I look like a drowned rat. And I’ve never felt so out of place in my life.
“It’s okay, I won’t leave you,” he says, as if reading my thoughts.
“Thank you,” I whisper as he takes my hand. The simple comfort in it reaches my heart, and I suck in a deep breath as his fingers wrap around mine, enveloping me in a way I need so badly. It’s like his hand around mine is the safety net pulling me from the watery depths. Saving me.
I follow, wordlessly, and as he leans over the bar, he lets go of my hand. I wish I was brave enough to reach for his, but I know the thought is insane. I don’t know this man at all. As he speaks to a bartender, I keep my head down, eyes low. Like I’ve been taught to do all my life.
I feel people staring, but only a few men walk over to us.
A man who has arms covered in tattoos takes us in. “You all right, Ranger?” He claps my rescuer on the shoulder. Ranger.
“Yeah, got caught in the rainstorm.” Ranger looks over at me. “Car trouble — she needed a ride.”
“Going for a long ride to Hell’s Landing tomorrow — you in?” another man asks.
Ranger shrugs, not giving him a straight answer. “We’ll see. If the weather shapes up, that’ll be a nice ride.” Ranger takes two bottles of beer from the bartender, then slips a hand onto the small of my back. “We’re gonna go upstairs to my place. She needs to make some calls where it’s quieter.”
The men nod, walking away, and I wonder where this is going… I want to believe Ranger isn't going to hurt me… but I haven’t exactly known any men with pure intentions. And this man, this place, they’re the epitome of what my father has preached against. Alcohol, tattoos, cigarettes. And even though I’m in the devil’s playground, so long as I’m next to Ranger, I don’t feel scared.
As Ranger takes me outside at the back of the bar and leads me up a flight of stairs to a second-floor door, I exhale a sigh of relief.
I may not have any idea where this man is taking me, what he plans to do with me, but anything is better than marrying Slider.
3
Ranger
She’s shaking like a bird and I don’t know if it’s because she’s scared or if she’s cold. When I open my apartment door, I realize I kept the windows open, and I immediately move around the studio, shutting them to keep the rain out. She doesn’t hesitate to help. She reaches for a window over the kitchen sink and closes it quickly. Seeing her bent over in a dress sticking to her skin, my cock twitches. Damn, she looks good. Then she turns, meeting my eyes as she reaches for the window next to the couch. I try not to smile, but I know she caught me.
“Thanks,” I say, offering her one of the beers. She shakes her head no as I wipe my brow. “You sure?”
“I’ve never drank,” she says, then bites down on her pink bottom lip.
“Right,” I say, setting the extra Bud Light on the counter. “Shit, I shouldn’t have assumed. Do you need to make a call now that we’re out of the rain? Hell, I can get you a taxi.” I shrug. “There are always half a dozen down at the bar taking home people who are drunk off their asses.”
She flinches at my words and again, I’m left guessing. Was it my swearing or was it her not wanting to make a call?
“I can imagine how this is going to sound but… do you know if there are any women’s shelters in the city? My wallet was in the car, and everything I owned. I don’t know anyone I can call, and I don’t have anyone I can…” She covers her face then, and I realize wherever she was headed before I found her was far, far away. She had plans to leave wherever she came from and then her car broke down and whatever she set out to do, she was stopped in her tracks.
“Hey, hey there — you’re okay,” I say, not knowing if that’s the truth. “Long as you’re with me, you’re safe.”
She sobs against my chest as I wrap her in my arms, not knowing what else to do. And I must admit I like having her there, pressed against me. She’s soft and warm, and I like the idea of taking care of her. Not just because she is a woman in need — but because this woman in need makes my heart fucking pound in a way no one else in the world ever has.
“You’re not going to some shelter in Seneca. You’d be eaten alive. Besides, it’s safer here.” I know the guys I ride with have a reputation – hell, we all do – but we’re cleaning up our act. The club president, Troy Conley, is seeing to it. Still, I know what the headlines say. Saint, our Sergeant of Arms, is in prison right now on account of murder.
But I’m hoping this sweet thing doesn’t know that.
Besides, she is safest here with us. We may look mean, but we never hurt our own.
She looks up at me, her thin dress making it hard for me to focus. Damn, she’s beautiful. “It was a miracle, you coming for me when you did. I would have been out in that storm if you hadn’t come…” A tear falls down her cheek and I brush it away with my thumb.
“What’s your name?”
She licks her lips. “Ruby,” she says.
“I’m Ranger.”
She nods. “Your friends down there, are they as kind as you?”
I smile softly. “I don’t know abou
t that.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “You can stay here tonight,” I tell her.
She nods, looking around my place. It’s small, but respectable.
“I live alone and don’t need much,” I tell her, wondering what she thinks of my simple space.
She nods, taking deep breaths. “Thank you for giving me a place to sleep. I feel like you’re my guardian angel or something.”
I smile. “You’re the one who looked like an angel when I first saw you today.”
Her eyebrows lift. “You thought that?” She shakes her head, cheeks pink. “I’m no angel,” she says.
I want to ask why she’d say that, but I know it’s not really my business. My duty right now is to get her warmed up. “The bathroom is right over here,” I tell her. “A shower will probably feel good. And I can find you something to wear.”
She nods. “Okay, thanks, Ranger.”
My name on her lips sounds so right. I force myself to walk away though and push open the bathroom door. “Towels are here, and I bet you’re hungry. I’ll get you some food, okay? I’ll just be down at the bar for a second getting us dinner, okay?”
She bites her lip again. “You sure no one will come up here?”
“I’m sure. I’ll even lock the door, okay?”
She nods and steps into the bathroom, closing the door. I hear the lock set and I exhale, dropping my shoulders, wondering what in the world I’ve gotten myself into.
I change quickly, then set a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt outside the bathroom door. Then I lock the apartment door and take the steps two at a time, telling Bulldog, our bouncer, to watch and make sure no one goes up the stairs to my place. Bulldog’s bark is meaner than his bite, and his knuckle tats sum him up: LOVE HARD. I wonder when the bastard will find a woman to love the way he wants.
RANGER: Heartlands MC Page 1