Chapter One

JAGGER EXHALED A LINE of smoke straight into the night sky. The boisterous good cheers from Wire and Cora's wedding celebration inside the clubhouse pushed him further into the shadows.

Weeks ago, when Wire approached him wanting to contact Jeff 'Ruger' Albright, he knew doing so would only invite all hell to break loose in his life.

Hell in the name of Katrina Albright.

When he'd left the mother chapter of Havoc-Lincoln 'Havlin' Motorcycle Club in Beaverton to start the new chapter in Seaglass Cove, he'd left everything behind.

Ruger's daughter, Katrina, understood she was not to contact him ever again. She was to stay out of his life.

But she waltzed into the clubhouse as if she belonged, looking more beautiful and tempting than he remembered.

He exhaled roughly. Damn that girl.

Katrina had everything she wanted in Beaverton. Her dad was no longer in prison. She had a profitable job within the club, working as a bartender. She lived across the street from the clubhouse with Jagger's mom.

She had all the support she needed, surrounded by Havlin members willing to take a fucking bullet for her.

She was supposed to stay away from Seaglass Cove. He banged the back of his head against the brick wall of the clubhouse. More importantly, she was supposed to stay away from him.

He was the president of Havlin, except he had no control around Katrina. She was his heart.

Jagger inhaled harder, drawing the smoke deeper into his lungs. Damn, Ruger. He must've told Katrina about Cora—his unknown sister who'd appeared out of the blue. Now Katrina was here to meet her aunt.

An aunt who was inside celebrating her marriage to one of Jagger's men.

Katrina had used the opportunity to come and meet an aunt she knew nothing about and meant nothing to her as an excuse to walk back into Jagger's life.

A life that had no room for her.

Dio and Rush stepped outside. Jagger stayed in the shadow of the building. He was in no mood to talk with anyone, even his MC brothers. There was a party going on. Those attending had no need for the president of Havlin.

He tossed his cigarette to the ground and retraced his steps. Before he reached the entrance to the clubhouse, he stopped at the first Harley lined up against the back of the building and swung his leg over the seat.

Dio looked over, lifted his chin, and returned to talking to the members standing around the burning barrel, passing a joint around. He started the bike and rode around the corner only to spot a lone rider parked across from the front of the building. Recognizing the motorcycle and the rider, he rode around the block and came back around. He stopped and rolled backward until his tire hit the curb.

Shutting off the bike, he toed the kickstand. Ruger was the last person he wanted to see tonight, but he was the only one who would know how long Katrina planned on hanging around.

"Took you long enough to hit the road," muttered Ruger.

He pulled the pack of smokes from his vest pocket, took a cigarette, and tossed the pack to Ruger. "It's your sister's wedding celebration."

In the past, he and Ruger had gone head to head, fist to fist, and pledged to protect each other. Jagger wasn't going to let Ruger poke without poking back.

Ruger lit a cigarette, never acknowledging Cora's special day. From what Jagger had heard, Ruger hadn't denied the relationship with his sister but hadn't made any effort to get to know her. His noncommittal attitude surprised no one, especially Jagger.

At one time, Ruger was more than an MC brother. There was nothing he wouldn't do for him. Hell, he would still do anything for him, even though Ruger would rather kill him than stay in the same room as him.

Ruger was the reason Jagger was in Seaglass Cove without Katrina.

"How long are you going to be around?" Jagger took a hit while he waited for an answer.

No one needed to tell him that Ruger followed Katrina here. As a father, Ruger would protect his daughter wherever she wanted to go. Unless that meant coming to Jagger. Ruger was only waiting for Jagger to touch Katrina, so he'd have an excuse to kill him.

Maybe it was payback from twenty years ago. Maybe it was because Jagger crossed the line with Katrina. Maybe Ruger—hell, who knew what he thought.

Jagger took another hit and then flicked the cigarette to the curb. Ruger followed his daughter here—whether Katrina knew or not. There wasn't much that got past Ruger when it came to his daughter.

"I'll be here as long as I have to be." Ruger met Jagger's gaze. "Brother or no brother, you touch her while she's here, and I'll shoot you between the eyes in front of everyone."

Jagger started his Harley and popped the bike into gear. He rode away. Whether Ruger would admit it or not, he believed Jagger owed him.

While Ruger spent eighteen years in prison for a crime Jagger committed, he got to spend those same years watching Katrina grow up.

The unfairness of it all wasn't lost on him. If he could go back and change things, he would.

But there came a time when Katrina became responsible for herself. She became an adult and made her own choices. Choices Jagger believed Ruger should respect. But he was never going to see Katrina as a grown-ass adult.

If Ruger had a problem with how Katrina lived her life, he needed to take that up with his daughter, not him.

He rode Highway 101 out of Seaglass Cove. The party would continue until the early morning. His members were having a good time.

Tonight, he'd run away from everything he wanted and needed.

He opened the throttle. Without any hope of having Katrina in his life, he'd set out to run the Havlin chapter away from her.

The twin lights of a truck headed toward him. He stared into the beams until blinded. The throttle maxed out.

Underneath him, the engine whined. The vibration of the Harley crawled through his body, numbing him.

The truck passed him. The wind current from the vehicle pushed him toward the white line.

Jagger shook his head, trying to catch a glimpse of the black asphalt in his impaired vision, and shifted down, slowing his motorcycle.

Behind him, a car honked. He squinted, going over the white line and coming to a stop. He jumped off his bike and yanked off his helmet, throwing it toward the guardrail.

His chest roared. Katrina had no right to enter his life again.