Royal.
She would have to suck it up and ask me outright if she wanted an answer to that question.
Kit: I bet he is.
Yeah, not my favorite topic. As far as I was concerned, if I never spoke to that man again, it would be too soon. Though, I did love his wife.
Me: What’s new with you?
Kit: Spent the weekend with Scott. He’s showing me around since I’ve been working so much.
Me: It’s a wonder you met him at all with your schedule.
Kit: You’ll be happy to know we both took the weekend off, and when we came up for air he took me out on the town.
Me: Does he open doors for you?
Kit: Grace.
Me: What? Tread opens doors for me. I was just asking.
Kit: I like him.
Me: Then that’s all that matters. Being happy. You are happy, right, Kit?
I waited for few minutes but she didn’t type back, so I flushed the toilet and made my way to wash my hands. I looked up as the door opened behind my back.
“Hey, Grace,” Marley mumbled. We hadn’t talked much since before everything happened. I grabbed some paper towels and waited for her to come back out.
As she bent over the sink, I cleared my throat. “Hey, you okay? You’ve been really quiet.”
Marley tossed her mane of red hair over her shoulder and turned off the water quickly. “Yeah, I’m good.”
She tried to dodge for the door, but I moved into her path and blocked it. “Really? What’s going on with you?”
“Grace, come on. Move.”
“I want to know, Mar. Did I do something? Say something that has you avoiding me?” I tried to guess.
She looked up at me with shocked green eyes. “What? No, you haven’t done anything. I figured you would want your space.”
“Why?” I asked, completely confused.
“Because I was in the garage when you and Tatum were taken. I figured you would hate me for not being there,” she mumbled.
“What?” I asked loudly. “And get taken with us? You’re being silly, Marley. Come on, let’s get some tequila into you.” I opened the door and walked out.
As we walked by the bar, I snagged a bottle and Marley got the shot glasses. I linked my arm through hers and we fought to enter the kitchen side-by-side.
Veesa looked up as we giggled and shook her head with a smile. “I am glad you are with us, mija,” she said in her quiet way.
I smiled through a misting of tears and quickly headed outside before I started to cry. There were things I was willing to survive. Crying in front of that strong woman wasn’t one of them.
“Tatum!” I yelled, bringing the bottle over to the table next to Tread’s. Alt, Hendrix, and Auggie sat around it with some Doves drinking beer. I recognized the blonde beside Tread right away. She was the one bouncing on his lap my first night here.
I watched her hand glide across his leather vest in silence. Then I watched as his eyes went behind him to the blonde. He moved away before he even noticed I was back outside.
Tread’s eyes lit up when he saw me, then landed on the bottle. “Looks like you forgot the limes, Gracie. I’ve got somethin’ you can lick.”
I felt my face heat as I blushed and made my way over to him. The blonde had to move out of the way, but she didn’t seem to mind. I followed her with my eyes as she made the trek on impossibly high heels over to Royal.
“I’ve got somethin’ for you, baby,” Tread rumbled in my ear, making me shiver.
I leaned my face away to look at him clearly. “You can’t give me that out here.”
Tread’s eyebrows raised and he broke out into a wide smile. “I’ve got no problems.”
I rolled my eyes. “You may not, but I do.”
“That’s all right, darlin’. I got no issues with you bein’ a lady durin’ the day and a freak in the sheets.”
“WHOA!” the group yelled in delighted, surprise at his not so quiet declaration.
My face was on fire.
“Tread.”
He just laughed and grabbed for his beer. When the men settled down, he turned to me with serious eyes.
“Like I said, I’ve got somethin’ for ya, Gracie.” Tread moved to the side and dug into his pocket.
My eyes widened to the point of pain, and I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Oh my God.
Whatever he pulled out, he kept his hand closed around it. “I’ve said I would never settle down my whole life. I didn’t think anyone would be able to have my mom’s respect, or go toe to toe with my sister, or deal with all of my baggage.” Tread looked down and reached for my hand. I stopped breathing. “I want you to know that you make my life worth something. I lost that a long time ago, and never knew it was such an important piece of who I was until you came in with your drooling little dog and button up shirts.
“But more than my happiness, I want you to have everything you’ve ever dreamed of having. Even if it’s not me.” Tread placed something sharp into my hand and leaned back against his chair with a slow, shaky exhale.
I opened my fist to see a set of keys on a ring. “What is this?”
“It’s the keys to whatever future you want. I finished the Camaro before we left for the run. I want you to think about what kind of life you would live with me here. The danger, the stress. And think about how easy it would be to drive away. You aren’t stuck here anymore. I just want you to be happy.”
I smiled through my tears and shook my head. “You know a couple of days ago, I missed my mom. I want to go back to Utah and see her.” I jingled the keys. “Maybe we could get away for a little bit and see her one day? I’ve never been so happy, or stressed out, than I have been with you. Before, back there, I felt smothered. Here, I can spread my wings. I don’t want easy, Tread. I just want you.”
Tread grabbed the back of my head and brought my mouth down to meet his in a hard kiss of relief, and yes, happiness. He breathed in deep through the kiss and I knew he was taking me in, and that I was enough.
For him.
For his life in the club.
And I was his choice to carry on that life by his side.
Everyone around us was high-fiving, yelling out congratulations, and slapping backs. I pulled away, a little snotty from the crying, and laughed as I ran my free hand over my nose.
“That was just beautiful. Really. I’m so glad I was here to see it.” The words were all the right ones, but the tone meant something completely different. I looked over just as Tread stiffened next to me. The sheriff towered over us with his hands on his belt.
The men grew silent, the only sound was the words of another era from long ago.
The Ronin MC lost their jubilance and stood to greet the man in uniform. I stood with them.
“Can I help you, sheriff?” Royal asked, giving up his post by the pillar to walk toward him in a swagger that was his alone.
“I’m going to need to know the whereabouts of your members from five days ago, VP.” He practically spit out the title everyone else held with respect.
“Do we need a lawyer here, sheriff?” Hendrix asked quietly.
“Well, it seems mighty obvious to me that with your wounded brethren right over there, that you would be expecting me to pay a visit.” He smirked. “What with this massacre happening while you were out of town.”
“Oh my God! Harvey!”
Lola’s scream in the still air had everyone whipping around, most reaching for a gun concealed on their body.
We turned in time to see Harvey, President of the Ronin MC, collapse face first onto the unforgiving cement.
First, I have to thank my husband. When I went on a Sons Of Anarchy binge, he watched every episode with me, laughed while I paced at 3AM and when I lamented the end drawing near, suggested I write my own MC series.
We immediately started brainstorming, but I wanted my guys to be ex-military and worried I couldn’t do their mentality and jargon justice. We plotted, we named, we rou
nded out charecters together. When it was time to start actually writing, I suggested he try to write Tread’s point of view.
After seeing the first chapter, I knew he had to be the one to write it.
Not all of it was easy meshing our views, but we got through it with excitement at what is to come. I saw the effects of writing his personal flashbacks into the story had. He was calmer, less fidgety and seemed less burdened. This was as much therapy as fiction for him, and I’m glad we discovered this outlet.
Eric Haury, you have been with Justin through Afghanistan, Germany, and over FaceTime. When we brought up making the insignia for this series to you, I couldn’t have imagined the amazing emblem you would create with just a few brainstorming sessions with us. You nailed it! Thanks for being such a great friend.
Edee Fallon, you are not only my editor, but have become a friend, and are always a joy to work with. Thank you so much for not yelling at me when we miss deadline, and always making it work. This book wouldn’t be what it is without you.
Najla Qamber, you are a rock star! From cover to teasers, you always bring my vision to life. I love your work, and can’t wait to see what you do with the rest of the series.
Nadege Richards, the presentation and formatting of a book can bring a reader headache or bliss, and you never disappoint. Thanks for always bringing our pages to life. I live to get my hands on paperbacks after you’re done with them!
To my Betas! It’s been a long year, with gaps in between writing when life got in the way, but you’ve supported me and always stuck by me. Chundra, Anne, Mari, Mary, Tara, Sara-Jane, and Gina, thank you for everything that you do. It’s not always easy, but you never hesitate to pick up where we left off, with enthusiasm.
Faith, your proofreadin is impeccable. Thank you for your great work. Really.
Lastly, to the readers, you are the reason we do this. I love everything about this journey I get to travel with you. Thank you!!
I would like to thank all of the families that are shattered when they lose their loved ones.
I would like to thank 1LT Steven Chase Prasnicki for giving up his life for mine.
I would also like to thank all of the medical professionals and Psych professionals who put me back together again when I was sure that I was broken and ruined for all eternity.
I need to thank my wife, Brandace, for sticking with me through it all. These past 10 years have not been easy in the Army, and I’m grateful she never gave up. She gave me the encouragement to write a story for the public to read. I love you, babe.
Finally, I would like to thank all of those that have served in the military. Especially the ones who drug my ass through deployments, kept me motivated, saved my life more than once, who I still consider brothers, past and present, and all those that continue to serve.
Brandace and Justin Morrow have been through 10 years of the Army life, including three deployments and four children. They met in seventh grade, where they had scandalous hand-holding rendezvous in the gym before school. The courtship was brief however, only lasting a week, given his aversion to the telephone. Five years later he proposed to her on the steps of that middle school weeks before it would be demolished. Through the years, there have been laughter and tears, more time apart than together. Writing is an escape for them in an all too real world. Justin still hates the telephone.
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What’s Next?
ROYAL- Coming Spring 2016
Tread: Biker Romance (Ronin MC Series Book 1) Page 31