Praise for the
Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club
series
Dragon’s Lair
“Dragon’s Lair proves a badass chick can tame even the wildest of men. . . . Not to be missed. A biker book unlike any other . . . [with] a heroine for strong-willed women and an MC of hot bikers. Chantal Fernando knows how to draw you in and keep you hooked.”
—Angela Graham, New York Times– and USA Today–bestselling author
“Dragon’s Lair was witty and fast-paced. A delicious combination of badass biker men and laugh-out-loud humor.”
—Bookgossip
Arrow’s Hell
“Redemption and forgiveness form the basis of the story, while laughter, tears, and some erotic sex scenes keep the reader engaged. Low-key violence blends well with the multiple plotlines and drama-drenched characters.”
—RT Book Reviews
“Cheek-heating, gut-wrenching, and beautifully delivered! Arrow’s Hell took me on the ride of my life!”
—Bella Jewel, USA Today–bestselling author
“Arrow’s Hell is a fast-paced, entertaining, and intoxicating story line with some fun and humor to offset the intensity of guilt and grief.”
—The Reading Cafe
Tracker’s End
“Fernando’s vivid characters burst onto the page, . . . pulling readers into their world immediately and completely. This tightly told tale will leave readers eagerly waiting for the next installment.”
—Publishers Weekly
“The physical chemistry between Lana and Tracker burns up the pages.”
—RT Book Reviews
“The charismatic characters have captured my heart. . . . Tracker’s End is my favorite book in this series.”
—Smut Book Junkie
“Don’t miss out on the Wind Dragons MC series. . . . Chantal can really pull off the sexy times and give you some new BBFs to add to your list!”
—The Literary Gossip
Rake’s Redemption
“You’ll find yourself sitting on the edge of your seat in anticipation of how [Rake’s Redemption] will unfold.”
—RT Book Reviews (41/2 stars, top pick)
“Rake’s Redemption is a story about betrayal and loss, revenge and retribution, second chances and falling in love. The premise is emotional and entertaining; the characters are passionate and energetic; the romance is fated and hot.”
—The Reading Cafe
“If you haven’t read this series, pick it up now. . . . Rake’s Redemption is a definite must-read for lovers of the series or for anyone wanting a hot MC read!”
—Reading Past My Bedtime
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To my sons,
for showing me what love truly is
Acknowledgments
First of all, I’d like to thank all my readers for wanting more from the WDMC world, and for Gallery Books and Abby Zidle for making it a reality.
To my agent, Kimberly Brower, I’m so lucky to have you! Thank you for everything you do. As always, I know I can always count on you, and I’m so grateful.
Arijana Karcic, thank you for all you do for me. You’re seriously the best and deserve the world.
Natalie Ram, thank you for being the most versatile best friend ever, from helping me proofread to making me swag, I appreciate everything that is you. I know I can always count on you to have my back, or help me when I need you. I kind of adore you, and I don’t know how I survived before I had you by my side. You’re my one-woman army, and I love you heaps.
Thank you to my parents and sisters for helping out whenever I need more writing time, and to my three sons for being patient when they know their mama has to work. I love you all so much.
FMR Book Grind, thank you for everything; I appreciate all the hard work you all do for me!
Rose Tawil, I really don’t know what I’d do without you. I can’t say thank you enough for all the work you put in to support my dreams, and you never ask for anything in return. You truly are one of the best people I’ve ever met. Love you infinity.
The way to make people trust-worthy is to trust them.
—Ernest Hemingway
ONE
Ranger
“NO,” I tell her, for what must be the millionth time, even though the word doesn’t fall easily from my lips. I can see why no one says no to this woman. Not only is she unbelievably sexy, although I’d never admit that out loud because Sin will fuckin’ kill me, but she also has this charm and charisma about her that just makes you want to do whatever she asks.
No doubt, her team is always the winning team, so why wouldn’t I want to get on board? It just happens that what she’s asking—to help her with some fuckin’ case she’s working on—doesn’t appeal to me at all. Working with the cops and the feds? No fuckin’ thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever been around a cop without the words “you have the right to remain silent” being said shortly thereafter, and I have no intention of voluntarily being around them now.
Do I feel bad about what’s happened? Sure. A woman is missing, after all, but I’m not a hero and I’m not going to pretend to be. If I had any type of hero complex, I’d have joined the military or some shit like that—hell, maybe I’d even have become a cop.
But nope, I’m just a biker. Don’t expect shit from me.
“Ranger, why the fuck not?” Faye continues, pursing her lips. I can see the determination in her hazel eyes. She wants me to help her, although I have no idea why. “I could really use your brain on this case. Don’t you want to be challenged? To do something good, to give back to the community? To help this poor woman, because who knows where she is right now or what’s happening to her!”
All valid points. I just don’t see why out of all the men she knows, she’s so adamant about having me be the one to help her.
“Come on, Ranger, you can at least look at the case before you say no again. You might pick up on something we’ve all missed, who knows. Anything you can think of will help. I’m at a dead end right now. You’re a fuckin’ genius, Ranger!” When I raise a brow, she adds, “I know exactly how high your IQ is. Talon told me.”
I groan and shut my eyes. Only Talon knows about that, and as far as I know he hasn’t told anyone, until now. Fuckin’ Faye. Looks like she got to him—he’s already spilling secrets to her.
“No one ever tells you no, do they?”
“Not without changing their mind,” she replies, not sounding smug, just stating a fact. “Especially after I was kidnapped.”
I open my eyes and look at her. I mean really look at her. “I didn’t join this MC to help you on your missions to save the world, Faye. I don’t want to work for the feds, or the cops, or for anyone for that matter. Yes, I’m smart. So are lots of people. I don’t really see how I can help though. It’s a missing-persons case. I don’t even know why they put you on it—how is a lawyer supposed to help?”
She slams the file down on the table, obviously losing her temper, the contents spilling out.
It’s the picture that gets my attention.
“Elizabeth Chase is a good woman, Ranger,” she says, softening her tone. “She volunteers to feed the homeless, she babysits her neighbors’ kids for free because they can’t afford a babysitter, and she sends all the money she can to help her younger sister pay for college.”
In the picture, Elizabeth is smiling, her long blond hair tumbling down her slender shou
lders. Her blue eyes are looking right at me.
Judging me.
I pick up the photo, then glance at Faye, my expression giving away nothing. The thing is, I already know that Elizabeth Chase is a good woman. I know this firsthand. “Tell me everything.”
Her eyes dance with satisfaction.
She won. Like she usually does.
This time though, it’s not about Faye. The only reason I’m helping her is the woman in the photo.
Faye can be as smug as she likes.
All I care about right now is saving a woman I once used to know.
Six Years Ago
“Hello,” the girl says to me, tucking her hair back behind her ear. “You’re Cameron, right?”
I nod, smiling at her. I’ve seen her around the last few days but have never spoken to her. I came on this tour alone, a cruise around Scotland and Ireland, before all of us in the tour group head off to continental Europe, and it’s been one huge party from the second I got here. Everyone on board is young and looking for my kind of good time—no strings attached, just enjoying the right now and not worrying about tomorrow.
“Yeah,” I say, lighting up my cigarette and inhaling.
“I’m Elizabeth,” she says, smiling and then ducking her head, like she’s shy all of a sudden. I’m not a person who ever feels shy, so for some reason it amuses me. It’s an emotion I don’t really understand. I’m usually confident at best, comfortable at worst. I don’t generally give a shit what people around me think. If I did, there’s no way in hell I would have survived high school.
Wait a second, is this her trying to flirt with me? Yesterday, a pretty dark-haired girl walked up, pressed herself against me, and asked if I wanted to fuck. This is definitely a different approach, from a different type of girl. No judgment from me—after all, I did fuck that girl yesterday, and we both got what we wanted out of the night—but I have no idea what a shy, nice girl would be wanting from me. I have nothing to offer but my dick and a good time.
Maybe I’m wrong though; maybe she’s not as innocent as she comes off. Or maybe she wants to be a rebel for the night—to see what it’s like to be with a bad boy. I’m completely aware of how women see me. I’m six foot five, built, with a dark scruffy beard and longish hair that women seem unable to get enough of. I have tattoos, and I’m rough around the edges. No one would guess that I’m on break from my double major at college. No one really bothers to look beyond the exterior.
“Nice to meet you, Elizabeth. Did you have a good time last night?” I ask, attempting to make small talk with her. I’m not very good at it, but I think it will put her at ease a little. She’s a pretty enough girl, and I wouldn’t mind spending the night with her at some point during the trip if that’s what she’s after. My gaze drops to her chest, where her small breasts are pressing against her white top. Yeah, I wouldn’t mind having a taste of her one bit.
She clears her throat, so I raise my eyes back up to hers, grinning. “You were saying?”
She shakes her head, eyes looking a little sad before answering me. “It was good, yes. The club was pretty packed though. You don’t remember me at all, do you?”
I squint my eyes, wondering where the fuck I’m meant to be remembering her from. Have I fucked her before? This could get awkward if that’s the case, because I don’t remember doing so. Then again, I’ve kind of lost count of how many women I’ve been with. I cringe as that fact is brought to light. She watches me squirm for a few moments, before laughing, shaking her head at me. “No, we haven’t slept together, if that’s what you’re racking your brain over. We both went to Miles together.”
I instantly still, my expression going blank. My years at Miles High School aren’t the fondest. I moved away from that place for a reason, for a fresh start, and never did I think I would run into someone from there, especially on vacation, in a completely different country.
“Small world,” I mutter under my breath. Then louder, “Can’t say I remember you, Elizabeth.”
“I’m two years younger than you.” She nods, grinning, her blond hair bouncing. Even her hair is perky. “Probably not on your radar, but I remember you.”
If she remembers me, she would definitely remember my reputation, which has me wondering why she’s standing here, talking to me like we’re good friends. Or like she wants to be. Maybe she wants to fulfill a high school fantasy of fucking the bad boy, the man from the wrong side of the tracks. I didn’t grow up with money; in fact, I grew up living in a trailer park, and everyone knew it. I got into a lot of fights, hung out with the wrong crowd, and was generally a waste of fuckin’ space. I graduated only because I was able to ace all my exams without any kind of studying, or even attending most of the classes. The teachers were suspicious as fuck—they thought that I cheated but couldn’t prove it.
I didn’t cheat.
I decide to change the topic away from a subject I’d rather not talk about, a part of me that I had buried. “You want to grab a drink?”
She nods, beaming. “I’d love to, Cam.”
TWO
Present
“SO she’s been missing for two weeks now?” I ask, running my hand through my hair. Two fuckin’ weeks. She’s either dead and I’ll be bringing back her body, or she’s alive and being kept somewhere and will return in who knows what condition. If it’s the former, at least she can be laid to rest, and her family can have some closure.
“Yeah, two weeks,” Faye says, her tone strictly business, as she scans the papers in front of her. I have to wonder why, out of all the cases, she chose to work on this one. Faye is a lawyer who assists the feds on cases when she chooses to. I don’t know how she got into this position, or whatever deal she has going with them, or why they need a lawyer like her, but even I know she’s a good woman to have on your side.
I decide to ask, to just put it out there. If she’s honest with me, I’ll be honest with her.
“What interests you about this case?” I ask her boldly, testing her.
She lifts her hazel eyes to me, giving me all her attention. “They suspect that a biker had something to do with her disappearance, but only because she was last seen at a biker bar.”
I can’t imagine Elizabeth hanging out in a biker bar, but it’s not like I’ve seen her in years. I don’t know the person she became after we parted ways.
Faye continues, “That’s not exactly solid evidence, but it’s something to go by. Someone in the bar must have seen something, and if I go in there asking questions, it’s going to be received a lot better than if the cops do.”
That makes a hell of a lot of sense. Faye commands a lot of respect, and she definitely has the power to push herself into situations that others don’t. Over the years, while I was with the Wild Men MC, even I heard stories about her. She’s known for pretty much being a warrior, a woman with skills to take on even the best of men, and with Sin and the Wind Dragons by her side, she’s an unstoppable force.
“I’ll admit to having another reason,” Faye adds, shrugging. “But that reason is my own. The bottom line is this woman needs help, and I’m going to do my best to figure out what happened to her. If she’s alive, I want to save her. Her cousin happens to be a police officer and is pushing for all resources to be used in the search for Elizabeth.”
“I know her,” I admit quietly, then clear my throat. “At least I did. We were friends.”
“I know,” Faye admits, cringing. “I mean, I didn’t know at the start, but I saw a picture of the two of you on her social media.”
She has a picture of us? I’m not on any social media, so I wouldn’t know, but for some reason this surprises me. Sure, she took a picture or two of us on the tour, but I haven’t thought about those photos since. I think we spoke on the phone once before I joined the Wild Men, and never again after that.
“And you didn’t say anything?”
“I was waiting for you to,” she says, resting her hand on my arm. “I’m just happy you agreed to
help. We can do this, Ranger, I know we can.” She removes her arm and sighs. “Although we have to work side by side with her cousin, so I hope you’re going to be okay with that.”
I don’t like cops, not even a little bit, but we all have the same end game, and for Elizabeth I can suck it up and work with her cousin. If he’s an asshole . . . well, I’ll just have to handle it. Not many men are stupid enough to fuck with me, but a cop, well, they think they rule the fuckin’ world, so who knows. Cops like to talk big, but if you try to say or do anything back to them, they get you locked up. How the fuck is that fair? I heard all about the situation with Irish’s woman, Tina, and her dirty-cop ex-boyfriend.
I don’t understand cops. I’m sure not all of them are bad, but let’s just say the ones I’ve met haven’t exactly shown me any redeeming qualities. There are so many stories out there about cops who think they’re above the law that it’s hard to respect such hypocrites. Then again, I’m a biker, the enemy to them, so I guess they’d have no reason to be fair to me. I’ve been arrested a few times for doing absolutely nothing. It almost seems like they’re looking for something that can put me behind bars, anything. I’ve been lucky each time that I didn’t have any weapons on me.
“I’ll deal,” I tell her. “I assume you went to the bar already? What did you find out?”
“Nothing,” she groans, frustration flashing on her face. “She went there alone, and she left alone. The bartender who was working says that she had two drinks, and that a few men came and spoke to her, but he can’t remember what they looked like.”
“Camera footage?”
“Apparently their cameras weren’t working that day,” she says, rolling her eyes. “They also only have one on the main bar, not one outside, so either way we wouldn’t be able to see what direction she left in, or in whose car.”
“How convenient,” I add, lips tightening. “I think we should go back there.”
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