by Ker Dukey
Her eyes flick to me, her brow crooking, and a beer is placed out for me in the next breath.
“You okay, son?” Uncle Joe croaks from where he’s polishing the bar.
“Usual shit. Why the fuck you playing maid?” I scoff.
“Just earning my keep like the rest.”
“You can come sit on my dick if you wanna act like a bitch,” some prospect bellows from across the room, earning himself an elbow to the temple from Rage, knocking him out cold. “Respect is lacking all around lately,” I growl.
“You want to talk, son?” Joe asks, ignoring the shit going on behind him.
“If I do, I’ll let you know, Uncle Joe.”
Rage gets to his feet, coming to stand beside me. I made him VP once I took over as president. He’s loyal, and a good brother. I never forgot him taking my grief when my mother passed. This club needs brothers like him.
“Jameson said someone’s out there butchering women.” His tone is always low and deadly.
I take a swig from my beer. “Not sure what the hell is going on, but I don’t like it. Too close to home.”
“I’ll get Ice to see what our inside cops know.” Ice is our sergeant at arms. He protects the club’s interest and monitors our laws, making sure the brothers uphold them. He’ll be the one stripping Hog of his patch if he doesn’t clean up. He’s also the nephew of the chief of police.
“Good,” I Jerk my head. “Let me know when you’ve dealt with dealers fucking around our territory too. Let Kai loose to make a statement.”
“On it.” He rubs his hands together, then looks to Gracie. “Meet me in my room. I have an assignment for you.”
Her eyes go wide as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “What is it?”
“It’s in his pants,” Joe snorts, shaking his head.
“I’m not here for you to pick up and put down whenever you get a tingle in your winkle.” She scowls, her hand on her hip, attitude for days. I miss that fire. Drew had that fire. A redhead, Amy, spits her drink all over Halo’s chest as he approaches, her eyes dropping to Rage’s junk.
“Bitch, what the fuck?” Halo howls, wiping his shirt down.
“Winkle?” Rage growls. “You can’t call the monster a winkle.”
Monster?
Fuck this. I’m out.
Sixteen
Drew
Twenty-six years old
A couple weeks later…
Aunt Maureen was a horrible witch, but even witches deserve better than what she got. Raped and murdered in her own bed. I want to believe there’s no way the Royal Bastards had anything to do with this—it’s not their style—but can it be a coincidence that my dad was murdered and now this shit?
There are all of five people at her wake. Two are her neighbors, me, my friend, and her distant sister I didn’t even know existed. She only came because she said the house was left to her in the will. My aunt wouldn’t write a will, and her termite-infested home would cost more to renovate than it’s worth. The chick is welcome to it. “You look tense.” Remy rubs his hand over my shoulders.
Tense is an understatement. I haven’t been in this town since the night my father’s body was dumped like trash on my aunt’s front lawn—yet another reason this woman is welcome to the house. A stabbing pain throbs in my chest thinking about him and the aftermath of his murder. Alec’s guilty expression seared into my brain, eating away all the good memories we shared.
“Babe, you okay?” Remy asks, making my muscles turn rigid.
“I told you not to call me that.” I push his hand off my shoulder and go to the bar. I need to get out of this place. I’m not afraid like I used to be to come here. Kai telling me about Viking’s death lifted a weight off my shoulders. I know Alec had to struggle with his passing, but why should I care how he feels? He took my dad from me, knowing he was the only family I had. It’s been years, and my mind and heart are still at war over my love and hate for that man.
“Hit me,” I tell the bartender, holding up my shot glass. I down the amber liquor he pours in my glass and exhale hard.
I was a dick to Remy. He dropped everything to drive me down here, and the anxiety and old memories are making me act like a bitch. He doesn’t deserve that. We aren’t a real couple. We fooled around a little with the unspoken promise of maybe more. I haven’t been ready for more with anyone. Touch…taste, intimacy—nothing heals what’s broken inside me. Nothing compares to Alec, and it makes the act pointless, painful, and unsatisfying.
Remy’s a Demon nomad, a biker club that isn’t far from Little Rock. Purely coincidental I met him. There’s something about his demeanor, though—his bike, cut—that’s all too familiar to my soul. Despite running from it, wanting to be away from the club life, my soul longed for it. But Remy wanted more than I was willing to give. Bringing him here was a mistake, but I didn’t want to do it on my own. I’m a coward. Dammit, there’s not enough alcohol in the world to settle my nerves.
This place has always been like a magnet, drawing me in. Fuck that, it’s not this place, it’s the man in it. Brains are funny things. They try to rationalize, they lie to you when you’re in a state of despair to try to heal you, but how can I forgive what Alec did? How is there anything he could say or do that will ever make killing my dad okay?
Disgust cloaks me in shame, for wishing there was something—anything that could erase that part of our past so I could be in his arms. What a mess of a woman I am, pining over my dad’s killer. He’s probably married by now, got an ol’ lady popping out his kids. A sharp pain sparks in my chest. No, no, no, I can’t think about that.
“Everything all right?” the bartender asks, and I realize I’m holding my hand to my heart, a harsh grimace on my face.
“Yeah, fine. Give me a round for the table.” I slip off the bar stool and go back to the others. The bartender places drinks down for everyone a couple minutes later. “A peace offering.” I try to smile, and drop a peck to Remy’s cheek.
“Shit,” he mumbles, his face losing color as he looks over at whoever’s entered the bar behind me. The atmosphere shifts, and I don’t have to look. I’ve always felt his presence without ever having to see him. Alec.
A shadow descends over me, sending a wave of goosebumps over my flesh. The pounding of my heart roars in my ears, forcing me into a woozy haze. It could be the shots. No, it’s him.
“Can we help you? This is a wake,” someone informs the Royal Bastards invading our little corner.
Remy shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his cut declaring him a Demon like a neon sign. Shit, this is the exact situation I wanted to avoid. This place isn’t even popular. The only reason he’s here is because he knew I would be.
I close my eyes breathing, my lungs seizing. Trying to gain some control, I gulp down the jittering nerves as they begin taking seats around us. “We’re here for the wake.” I recognize that voice. My eyes open to find Jameson. Wow. He let his facial hair grow in. It suits him. My eyes flick to his patch. Enforcer. “Hey, kid.” He grins over at me, and for no reason, tears build in my eyes.
“Excuse me,” I choke out, standing and turning my back on them. I can’t see Alec’s face. I don’t think I’m strong enough. Why the hell did I come here? I burned these bridges to ash. I can’t just walk back over them. My aunt wasn’t worth this kind of torture. She hated me and was an evil, thieving asshole.
Rushing into the bathroom, I splash my face with cold water and swallow down much needed breaths. “Just leave. Go out the back, call Remy, tell him to meet me back at the motel, grab our shit, and leave this place.”
A toilet flushes, and an older looking lady steps out of one of the stalls. She looks over at me, then scanning our surroundings. Seeing I’m alone, she says, “You okay, darling?”
No. I haven’t been okay since I left here—left him. I’ve bounced from place to place, seeing the world, but nothing ever felt right—nothing ever felt like home. Alec is your home.
When I don’t off
er an answer, she leaves without washing her hands. Gross.
Inhaling a deep breath, I swipe beneath my eyes and tell myself to stop being a coward. As soon as I pull open the door to leave, a meaty hand wraps around my upper arm, making me squeak in surprise. Before I can grasp what’s happening, I’m pinned against the wall, a tall body stalking over me. Is he sniffing my hair?
“Fuck, Drew, you’ve been gone too long, baby.” The words awake all the places that have been dormant since I left him. A stone lodges in my throat, a burning inferno setting my eyes ablaze.
He’s bigger, voice deeper, but his scent? It’s the same. Fresh-cut grass, chrome, and leather. My heart dies a thousand times over. Every fiber of my being wants to dissolve into him and be the carefree kids we once were, but too much has happened. Although years have passed, the pain is still raw. It will always be raw.
I place my hands on his stomach. His muscles jump at the contact. The natural arousal of being this close to him is still as severe, sending a wave of need through me. No one has ever met the intensity of Alec for me. Every touch, kiss, moment with him was a high I’ve been chasing for years.
“Don’t touch me,” I breathe, attempting to push him away.
“You just ran away. You broke me, Drew—destroyed me inside,” he mumbles against my ear, his head bowed, trying to nuzzle into me.
“No.” I shove him away, and this time, he allows it. I don’t know what’s worse: feeling him around me, his scent invading all my senses, or seeing his remarkable face for the first time in so long. He’s so devastatingly beautiful. My heart weeps at the sight of him.
Tears drip to my cheeks. I can’t catch my breath. My legs won’t move. I need to run. Dark eyes bleed into mine, telling me a thousand unspoken words. He looks the same, but also different. I see my Alec looking back at me, but someone new too—someone hardened by life.
Why can’t I stop loving him?
Seventeen
Animal
Twenty-eight years old
Moments before…
At the sight of her, my fucking heart almost burst through my ribcage and splattered at her feet. Heat flooded my body. The urge to shake the shit out of her for fucking leaving me nearly buckled me. How could she leave me? Fuck, it still aches. My heart froze over when she left, and now it feels like mush in my chest.
She’s got her back to me, and she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Shit, look at her.
I march straight over to the table, my shadow claiming her. Her rigid shoulders tell me she knows I’m here. My brothers make themselves at home around the table. Did she really think she could roll into my town and I wouldn’t know?
She stands abruptly and rushes for the bathroom.
I follow, waiting outside like a ravenous wolf. An old lady comes out the door, startling when she sees me and rushing away. Drew opens the door a minute later, and my muscles flex with the need to crush her to me.
Her mouth pops open when I grab her arm and move her to the wall. I close in around her, soaking her in. It’s been too long. My body sags over hers, her pretty peach scent bleeding into me. “Fuck, Drew, you’ve been gone too long, baby,” I mumble. Her hands push at my stomach, but I can’t move. I need to feed on her for a second. I’ve been starved of her for too long.
“Don’t touch me,” she exhales, shoving a little harder.
“You just ran away. You broke me, Drew—destroyed me inside.” The words fall from my lips without preamble. I haven’t felt this vulnerable in so long—this consumed by any feeling other than anger. The pit in my soul that screams for violence and chaos to quiet the constant agony of her absence is now ash because she’s here.
“No,” she barks more urgently, and I move away. Our eyes clash. Salty rivers run from her eyes, creating an almost glow. She’s heartbreakingly beautiful, natural and classic. The dusting of freckles a reminder of the girl I used to know, but the fullness of her lips, her toned jaw, the defined apples of her cheeks remind me she’s not her. She’s a woman now—a stunning one. The curls she used to hack off flow down her back, blonde shades mixing with the brown strands.
“I missed you,” I tell her, aching to touch her mouth with mine.
“I can’t do this,” she pants, shaking her head like she can’t believe this is happening.
“Where have you been? I looked everywhere for you.”
“You shouldn’t have. I told you not to.”
Is she serious? Did she not fucking love me the way I loved her? I lived for her. She was my everything—fuck…she is my everything.
“You shattered my fucking soul and sanity when you ghosted—not one fucking word from you.” I feel the anger coming back.
“Why the hell did I leave, Alec? Huh? Don’t tell me how fucking hard it was on you. You have no idea how it was for me! Is for me. To be so completely in love with someone, devoted to them, and learn they can betray you in such a brutal way.”
One arm wraps around her waist, the other outstretched to stop me advancing.
“You never let me explain anything,” I plead, desperation and anger colliding.
“You didn’t have to tell me the details,” she spits out. “You already lit the match, you think I’d stick around so you could watch me burn?”
“You didn’t let me explain!” I roar, my fists clenching. Spinning, I punch a hole through the wall. This is fucking devastating. It’s been years, and I still have this hunger—this need for her. It’s so intense, I can’t think or fucking breathe. And now, she’s so close, yet still so far away.
“I’ve got to go.” She jolts her head, sending her curls dancing. Fuck her. I grab for her wrist, dragging her to me, spinning and pushing her back into the wall, letting my full weight trap her there.
“You’re not going anywhere without me,” I tell her, crushing my lips down on hers. The world disappears around us as we fall down the rabbit hole—two kids, besotted—best friends who would do anything for the other—lovers separated for too long.
Our tongues duel, teeth bite, hands roam. She claws at me, savagely consuming, hungry. My mind splinters. Am I dreaming?
“Wait!” She gasps. “No. No. God no,” she cries out, pounding her tiny fists against my chest. I can practically hear the war drums booming in her head. Old memories are haunting her, but she doesn’t know the facts.
“I’m leaving,” she hiccups on a sob.
“I’ll follow you.”
“Don’t make me kill you,” she growls, the emotion turning to rage. It’s adorable.
“You already fucking did,” I spit.
“Why can’t you just let me mourn my aunt and leave?”
“Because you fucking hated that cunt. You came here for this,” I tell her, waving my finger between us.
“No, I dreaded this happening.”
“Keep telling yourself that, Drew.”
“Don’t call me that. I go by Wren now.”
“Nope.” I jolt my head.
Her eyes narrow. “What the hell do you mean ‘nope’?”
“You heard me, Drewwww.” I drag her name across my tongue.
“I’m not here alone.” She folds her arms in defiance.
Like I don’t already know. She had the fucking audacity to ride into my home on the back of another man’s bike. I’m going to turn the metal into liquid and him into fertilizer. “He has a death wish. That’s on him.”
“Fuck off, Alec. You’re not going to do anything to him.” She says the words with conviction, but there’s fear in her eyes. I hate seeing it there. “Prez, you good?” Kai comes back to check on us.
“Yeah. We’re good.”
“No, we’re not,” Drew bites out.
“You want us to deal with this Demon?”
“No!” Drew calls out, her voice hitching.
“Mmmm, you’ve grown into that skin of yours, Drew.” Kai grins.
“Killer,” I growl in warning. Holding his hands up, he backs away. “I’ll keep people o
ut your way, Prez. Take your time.”
She swivels her full body to face me once again. “Prez?” she breathes. “So, it’s true.”
“Lot's happened since you ran away.”
“You can’t run away if you have nowhere you belong,” she snaps.
“Fuck that. You belong by my side, on the back of my bike, in my bed. We are it for each other—always have been, always will be.”
“No.” She rubs her palms over her face. I let my gaze travel down her body. Tight shorts. More meat on her hips. Long, tan legs disappearing into a bright red pair of Doc Martens. Her tits hiding beneath a black T-shirt. If that’s that Demon’s shirt, I’m going to rip it off her.
“You ruined that for us both. I can’t ever be with you after what you did. Why don’t you get that?”
“Because it’s bullshit,” I state.
“You probably have a ton of different women warming your bed now. You’re the president of the Royal Bastards. Who did you have to fucking kill for that title?” she sneers, poison spilling from her hyped-up mouth. She flinches at her own outburst, knowing my old man must have died for me to be in this position. I decide to ignore it and answer her first statement.
“Women aren’t you.” I watch closely as she winces. She hates the thought of me fucking another woman, still, after all this time, just like I hate that she’s here with someone else. I want to cut the mouth-breather into dog chow for even getting a second with her.
I close in on her once more. Her breath hitches at our proximity. Her face drops so she doesn’t have to look at me. I’m not letting her get away with that. I lift her chin, trapping it between my forefinger and thumb. “I could have a million women, but none of them are you, Drew.” I nip her lips. “You’re irreplaceable. Been missing you, baby. You’re inescapable, and being with you again is inevitable. I refuse for it to be any other fucking way, so you better get used to it.” I lean my forehead against hers and breathe her in before I kiss the tip of her nose “I won’t let you run again. I can’t. I won’t survive it. You can’t see it, but it’s there, our souls—they thrive when we’re together. We need each other.” And then I leave her to soak in the fact that she’s back for good.