Max (Ride Series Second Generation Book 6)

by Megan O'Brien

  I merely chuckled, used to their banter, and headed for the garage. I found my pop squatted beside his bike, his hands and white tee stained with grease as he worked intently on his Harley. It was a familiar sight from my childhood, and I grinned, watching as he swore at the wrench in his hand.

  “Need a hand?” I offered with a chuckle.

  “You think your old man can’t fix his own bike?” he demanded, though his blue eyes were lit with humor. We both knew I wouldn’t doubt it for a second. At close to seventy, my pop still operated as though in his prime. And, if the women in town were any testament, the opposite sex still found him more than a little attractive. Fortunately, he’d only ever had eyes for my mom. He treated her like a queen, always had.

  “You guys have a good trip?” I asked, handing him his coffee before sitting down on a nearby stool. They’d been traveling abroad.

  He nodded. “Beautiful country, but you know me, I always like comin’ home.”

  My mom was the one with the travel bug. He went along to make her happy, and because he’d never let her go alone. But I knew he’d be just as content to stay in Hawthorne.

  “Cole tells me you’re off your game,” he commented in his typical no-nonsense tone. “That you’re angry and not yourself.”

  “I’m all right,” I replied, providing my standard response.

  He turned his gaze toward me. “Don’t give me that bullshit, son. What’s eatin’ you?”

  I looked off to the side, unsure how to answer him. I’d always been able to talk to him about anything. But I wasn’t so sure I could talk to him about this.

  “You always looked out for everyone before yourself,” he began when I didn’t respond. “You protected your sister. You were so fucking young, but you took that on as though it was your responsibility to own, even at seven years old. It took us years to get you to trust us to take care of her.”

  I remembered that time well. My mother hadn’t been fit to take care of us. At four, Emmie couldn’t fend for herself, so I’d stepped up. I’d taken care of her until Cal and Jill had rescued us. It didn’t strike me as anything remarkable; it was what any brother should do.

  “You took all the kids under your wing at the club. You were older, but it wasn’t so much that. It was just your nature to do so. You’ve always been quiet, Max,” he continued. “You work hard, keep your head down, and do the right thing. But I’ve always worried that your need to put everyone else first means that you always come a distant second and that might catch up with you some day. Instinct is tellin’ me that day is today, so why don’t you get that shit off your chest and let your old man help?”

  I rubbed a hand over my face. “I wish it were that simple.” I took a deep breath. “I want someone I can’t have. I’m all fucked up over it.”

  “What isn’t simple about it?”

  “It’s Wren.”

  To his credit, he didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look all that surprised. “And what’s holding you back? What Sal will think? That it might hurt him? What about what you want, Max? For once, put yourself first and take what you want.”

  I eyed him in surprise. “You think it’s that simple?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe not. But nothing good ever is. Sal is more overprotective than most, I’ll give you that. He even gives Cole a run for his money in that department.” He chuckled. Grace was constantly fighting with Cole from everything over what she wore to the rare occasions she dared to date, and she was older than Wren.

  “Wren’s his daughter,” he continued. “His only child. But ultimately, all any father wants is for his daughter to find a man who will love her and take care of her. Sal respects you, Max. He loves you like family. You may just have to put in some work to get him to see that you’re that man for her.”

  “You don’t seem surprised by all this.”

  He chuckled. “She’s always had feelings for you, son. Was clear as day from the very first. You, you were harder to read, but that’s always been the case.”

  “What about the age difference?”

  He eyed me as though I was missing something obvious. “If that had held me back, I wouldn’t be married to your mom. Sounds to me like you’re making excuses.”

  Fuck, was he right?

  “You need to make a choice,” he told me firmly. “Is she your woman or not? Because if she is, then you need to claim her and fuck all the rest. It will sort itself if you face it like the man you are. If she isn’t? Then, Max, you need to cut her loose. From the way she’s always looked at you, the cruelest thing you could do is leave her hangin’, and that’s not the way we raised you.”

  I scrubbed my hand over my hair in agitation. “I think I’ve already done that. I fucked up with her.”

  “Well then, you have an uphill battle to fight, don’t you?” he challenged. “You may still have her heart, but it doesn’t mean she trusts you with it. My advice? Don’t give her space. She’ll want it because it’s safe, because you haven’t fought for her until now. Likely no man has. You want her? You need to be the man who does.” He turned back to his bike, letting his words sink in.

  I stood up taller with a new resolve to do exactly that. “Thanks, Pop.”

  “Don’t mention it. Now go get me one of those muffins your mom made, would ya? Givin’ all this advice made me hungry.”

  I chuckled, not surprised by the request. “She’s already pissed you powered through the first batch.”

  “I love to get that woman riled,” he admitted with a gleam in his eye.

  I shook my head at him as I made my way back to the kitchen, feeling lighter than I had in months. I’d been trying to protect Wren from what being with me might mean, but it was time to say fuck it and face the music because a life without her just wasn’t an option. I’d made my choice—hell, I’d made it years ago and just hadn’t admitted it.

  It was time to get my girl.

  Chapter 11

  WREN

  The familiar sound of rock n’ roll music, low hum of conversation, and bottles clinking met my ears as I walked into the dimly lit Mad’s Monday evening. Axel’s bar, named after his oldest son, Maddox, was on the outskirts of town. It was a biker bar through and through, and not a place frequented by your typical passing tourist. The few times someone had stumbled in on accident had been downright comical.

  Olivia, Emmie, and Grace had convinced me to come out for a drink to celebrate my first day of work. Despite the rowdy environment and occasional fist fight, we all felt completely at home here. It probably had something to do with the fact that if anyone ever laid a hand on us or looked at us sideways, they’d lose a limb, and everyone knew it.

  I’d debated hiding at home, potentially under the bed if I wanted to be dramatic about it. The mind-numbing kiss and immediate rejection from Max were still forefront of my mind. But I was determined to move on, and that meant continuing with life as I otherwise would, even if that meant risking running into him.

  I forced myself not to scan the bar for him as I walked through. It was a useless exercise anyway. I always seemed to be able to sense him regardless. For the moment, it appeared I was in the clear and made my way to the table in the back where the girls were sharing a pitcher. With a quick wave to Gunner who was tending bar, I plopped down in the empty seat next to Em.

  “So, how was it?” Liv asked as she poured me a beer after we’d greeted each other.

  “Good.” I nodded. The local auto shop where I’d started as a receptionist and mechanic had been in business for as long as I could remember. Despite offers to work for the club, I’d declined, needing to make my own way. “The only awkward part was that apparently my dad came in there to warn all the guys to keep their hands to themselves.” I rolled my eyes but really wasn’t all that surprised. What had surprised me and what I didn’t share was that apparently Max had done the same thing.

  “Sounds about right,” Grace grumbled. “Thank God I work at a salon, otherwise my dad would have done the sam
e damn thing.”

  “They mean well, but dammit if it isn’t annoying,” Liv commiserated with a short laugh.

  “Should we get another round?” I offered, pointing to the empty pitcher.

  Emmie nodded in agreement. “Gunner! Another round!” she called.

  “Get your ass over here and get it,” he griped.

  She rolled her eyes and stood up with a huff.

  “Gunner still likes to get under her skin, huh?” I raised a brow toward Gracie.

  “Unfortunately,” she muttered. “Those two are like oil and water.”

  Emmie had just returned with a full pitcher when I felt the energy in the bar change. The conversations buzzing around us grew muted, and the men at the bar visibly straightened, their gazes locked toward the front door.

  Max.

  I didn’t even need to turn around to confirm it was him. I just knew.

  “Max and Cash just walked in,” Gracie confirmed, looking over my shoulder.

  “Great,” Emmie grumbled. “Max has been so pissy lately. I have no idea what’s up his ass.”

  “Maybe he needs to get laid,” Gracie shrugged as Olivia nearly choked on her drink, sliding a pointed look in my direction.

  I looked down at my beer as Grace patted her on the back, oblivious to our exchange.

  “Ew, can we not talk about my brother’s sex life?” Emmie complained. “And anyway, I don’t think that’s it. That chick at Gunner’s party was all over him, and he blew her off. He’s always been picky, but I can’t even remember the last time he showed interest in anyone.”

  I tried not to be thrilled by this news. It would be a long time, if ever, when I could stomach the idea of Max with someone else.

  “Ladies,” Cash greeted, the ever-present toothpick between his lips. Cash was a giant Viking of a man with blond hair that fell past his chin and blue eyes. He’d patched in while I was away at school, and though I didn’t know him well, it was clear he’d become close with Gunner and Max. He was also gorgeous, I couldn’t help but acknowledge despite being completely consumed by Max.

  “Hey, Cash,” Gracie greeted.

  I kept my back to them, forcibly controlling my breath as Max moved into my periphery. “Wren, there’s something I need to catch you up on.” His voice was low and full of authority.

  I ground my teeth. He was putting me on the spot. If I declined, everyone would know something was up. Well, two could play that game.

  I forced myself to look up at him. “You caught me up Friday night, remember?” I replied, keeping my tone as light as possible.

  His eyes flashed. “There are some key details we didn’t get to,” he ground out.

  “What are you guys talking about?” Emmie asked in confusion.

  Shit.

  “Wren’s helpin’ me fix up the GTO,” he answered easily. Max had a gorgeous black Pontiac GTO. I’d never ridden in it, but had salivated over it for years.

  At least one of us could think quickly on their feet.

  I eyed him steadily. “I was trying to convince Max not to sell it, but apparently he doesn’t think she’s worth much.”

  “Actually,” he argued as he continued to stare at me, “she’s just about the most important thing to me.”

  My heart hammered in my chest at his words as my anger flared. “That’s quite a change of heart,” I observed coolly as the blood ran hot in my veins.

  “Not a change.” He shook his head. “Call it a realization.”

  “Why do I feel like we’re not talking about a car?” Gracie stage whispered.

  In a likely failed bid to downplay our exchange, I turned to Grace with a forced smile. “It’s just a car, and speaking of which, I have an early day tomorrow. I should get going. Thanks for the drink.” I held up my beer, finishing the dredges and slamming it on the table harder than I’d intended.

  Olivia shot me a look that promised she’d be calling me later as I grabbed my jacket and hightailed it out of there.

  I heard Max’s heavy footfall behind me and winced at the sound.

  “Max, a word.” Axel’s deep baritone was full of urgency, and I knew from experience, it would stop any of the guys in their tracks.

  I sent a silent thank you to whatever divine intervention was saving my backside as I barreled out to my car, alone.

  I fired up my gorgeous Mustang, very recently street ready, loving the sound of her throaty throttle as I backed out of the lot and onto the road, headed for home.

  I decided to take the back way, wanting to clear my head before I had to deal with the nightly twenty questions from my parents. They meant well, but living under their roof was definitely a short-term solution for me.

  When a pair of headlights appeared in my rearview far closer than was standard, at first, I blew it off as some asshole on the road. I slowed down to let them pass. Instead, they moved closer to my bumper, the large vehicle bearing down on me with alarming speed.

  “What the hell?” I asked out loud as the headlights grew so close I braced for impact. I couldn’t get a clear make on the car but could tell it was some sort of large SUV or Suburban. I hit the gas, mindful of the windy road. I was an excellent driver, but my car was old and far smaller than the beast behind me.

  I’d thrown my purse with my phone inside into the back seat, far out of reach.

  I was on my own.

  The steering wheel shook under my hands as I pushed my Mustang to her limits. It felt like an eternity since I’d left the bar but had only been minutes as I began to crest the hill that would drop down toward my parents’ house. Sweat broke out on my brow. I was so close to home and so infinitely far.

  Who the hell was behind me? What did they want?

  My relief at hitting the top of the hill was short lived as a second later the SUV’s onslaught intensified and they made contact, hitting my rear end with enough force to send me spinning over the guardrail and off the road into the ravine below. My car crashed through the underbrush as if in slow motion. There was a moment where the nightmare enveloped me until there was just darkness and, oddly, peace.

  Chapter 12

  MAX

  Are you with Wren?

  The text from Olivia had a chill shooting down my spine as I swung off my bike. I’d just pulled into my garage but was quickly ready to ride out again, to where I wasn’t sure.

  Instead of texting her back, I called her, my phone in a vice grip as I held it to my ear.

  “What’s going on?” I barked the minute she picked up.

  “Wren never made it home from the bar,” she told me in a shaky voice. “Sal called me. I was wondering if maybe she went to your place or something.”

  “No,” I replied, wishing like hell she had. A million possibilities rushed through my mind, none of them good. “She left the bar, what, an hour ago?” I asked. “Did she have more than one beer?”

  “Just the one, she was fine,” she replied. “And yeah, it was about an hour ago. I think Sal and my dad are going to head out and look for her.”

  “I’ll join them. Riding out now,” I confirmed, already swinging my leg back over my bike.

  I debated where to head first, feeling helpless. The thought of anything happening to Wren had my gut so twisted it was painful as I sped back toward the bar, planning to retrace her steps.

  I tried to put myself in her shoes once I got close. She’d been keyed up when she left. Knowing Wren and how much she loved that ’Stang, she might have wanted to take the long way. I immediately pointed my bike toward Raven’s point, the windy road that would drop her down toward her parents’ place.

  I forced myself to go slow, to watch for any clue as to what might have happened. When I hit the crest and saw the guardrail had been busted what looked like recently, the blood chilled in my veins. I cut to the side of the road and swung off my bike, rushing to the edge. When I saw her taillights peeking out through the brush, I let out a roar of fear, sliding down the embankment as fast as my body could go.
r />   “Wren!” I hollered her name, ignoring the vines that cut my face and the rocks that dug into my limbs as I scrambled down the steep ravine.

  The sight of her slumped over the wheel was something I’d never forget, not if I lived a thousand years. I reached for my phone, praying it hadn’t fallen out in my slide down the hill, relieved to find it still inside my pocket.

  “911 what is your emergency?”

  “I’m at the bottom of Raven’s Peak, my girl went off the road in her car. She’s unconscious. I need an ambulance now!” I hollered, my voice shaking with adrenalin and something I wasn’t accustomed to feeling—fear.

  “Ambulance is in route.” The response was immediate. “Were airbags deployed?”

  “It’s a classic car, no airbags,” I rasped, barely able to get the words out as I looked at her delicate frame slumped unnaturally over the wheel.

  “Don’t move her, sir. They’re on their way.”

  “Did you hear that, baby?” I asked her hoarsely. “They’re comin’ okay? And I’m here. You’re gonna be okay,” I told her, my eyes blurring. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried, but the thought that my sweet girl could have a broken neck or worse was more than I could bear. “There’s so much I haven’t told you yet. You don’t even understand that you’re mine.” I talked to her through the broken driver’s side window. “But you will. You’re gonna be fine. I’ll make sure of it,” I assured her just as much as myself.

  I put my phone back to my ear, my hands shaking and bloody from my haste to get to Wren. There was one other call I needed to make.

  “Sal? Yeah, I found her.”

  ****

  The next hour was complete chaos. The paramedics arrived in record time, but making their way down the hill had been slow going. Getting Wren back up on a backboard was even slower.

  I’d ridden alongside her in the ambulance as they took her vitals. She had a huge laceration on her head, but other than that, it was difficult to tell what else might be wrong. I was able to hold her hand, hers so small and delicate in mine.