Chapter Two

CORA TALKED WITH THE other women surrounding her, but her hand remained on her husband. Katrina stood against the back wall, studying her newly discovered aunt. She was a beautiful girl. Her aunt was much younger than she had imagined when her dad told her Cora was born after he left home.

She expected someone in her thirties, not someone close to her age.

It was obvious Cora was in love with her husband. Her hands told the truth and rarely left him.

But Cora wasn't the only one holding on. Wire held the back of Cora's neck. They were tangled up in each other.

Katrina lifted the glass of rum and coke to her lips. She still found it hard to believe she had a blood relative.

At first, hearing the news from her dad that his little sister had found him pissed her off. Where was Cora for the last twenty-four years? Where were her grandparents?

She'd grown up believing she was alone.

Katrina swallowed the alcohol, letting it burn her throat and warm her chest. Everything she was led to believe was a lie.

And the things about her that were true were ugly.

Her mom had left her at the hospital—simply gave the nurse a phone number on how to contact Katrina's dad and then walked out of the hospital after giving birth and never came back.

Her dad raised her alone until he went to prison for murder when she was four years old. He stayed locked up for the next eighteen years of her life. Her exposure to her dad was in the state prison, where she got to visit him every two weeks for an hour.

The rest of the time, she lived with Mama Sue behind the Havlin Motorcycle Club clubhouse in Beaverton, Oregon. Raised within Havlin, the club members became her family.

Unlike other women, she learned everything she knew from men who killed, abused, stole, and deceived. She understood their motives, understood their needs, and understood their desires.

They lived life only needing the basics to survive. Sex and companionship softened their harsh world. And if they were lucky, they found love. Some had a long commitment to love. Others found love every night with different women.

Some would judge her upbringing as rough and lacking. She wouldn't change a thing about the way she grew up.

Rush entered her line of vision and approached her. "Look at you, getting more beautiful each year."

"Damn right, sweetie." She shook her head, smiling at the man who'd taught her to ride a bicycle when she was seven. "And yet, you have never tried to get your hands in my panties." She lifted her arms. "Come give me a hug, old man."

"Who are you calling old, kid?" Rush swept her up into a hug. "It's good to see you, girly. How's Beaverton treating you?"

"Those damn men keep me hopping. I can't stand still for a second without their grabby hands or their mouths yapping their troubles at me." She lifted her glass. "You know, I'm the club's bartender now."

Rush threw back his head and laughed. "Fucking lazy asses can't pour their drinks now, huh?"

"Could they ever?" She grinned. "You're lucky you broke off and came over here. Hopefully, Jagger hasn't spoiled you."

"Fuck no." Rush took out a joint and put it between his lips. "Come out and share this with me."

She kissed his cheek. "Another time. I need to find somewhere to crash before it gets any later."

"You're not staying here?"

She looked around the room. When she'd entered, she'd spotted Jagger immediately, and then he'd disappeared. She thought for sure he'd last more than a minute. If nothing else, to see why she was breaking one of his rules.

"Looks like I'm on my own. Your president took off." She tipped her glass, finishing the rest of the drink. "No worries. I'll find a cheap motel."

It was common knowledge any guest had to be approved by the president. That went for any bitches that stayed after the parties and went into the bedrooms with Havlin members.

She wasn't familiar with the way Jagger ran the clubhouse in Seaglass Cove. But considering Jagger's dad created Havlin years ago, she assumed he'd need to grant her permission to stay, which would never happen.

"Wait around. He'll be back. There's a party going on. Enjoy yourself. The clubhouse will be bouncing all night." Rush shrugged. "Besides, Jagger won't kick you out, or he'd have to answer to Mama Sue."

Rush winked and walked away from her. Warmth filled her. Being around those she'd come to love through the years brought comfort. It hadn't been the same in Beaverton since Jagger opened the new chapter.

She finished her drink. There were others she knew from Beaverton. Dio and Link. Bane and Cord. Jagger had taken many older members with him when he started the chapter.

That figured, seeing as how he started the chapter from the floor up. He'd want experience backing him and forging the way for new members.

Cora caught Katrina's gaze. It was odd to have an aunt. She would've preferred to have someone twice as old as her to welcome into the family. Someone who she could maybe visit at Christmas like other people tended to do.

What was she going to do with an aunt who was around her age? Swap Snapchat handles?

Used to not fitting in with other women outside of the MC, there was no reason to try and get to know Cora. She wasn't here to be judged for her life, and she sure as hell wouldn't change her life for anyone.

Cora broke away from her husband and approached Katrina. As soon as her aunt reached her side, she grabbed Katrina's hand. Instantly, she stiffened.

"I'm so glad you came." Cora let go of her. "How long can you stay?"

"A few days." She had no other plans.

The club could do without her. The job she had made their life easier but wasn't necessary to keep the club running.

"Would you like to stay at our house?" Cora pointed across the room at Wire. "I—we have a Sprinter van behind the building that we're going to stay in tonight, so we don't have to drive, but I can give you the address—"

Nah." She softened her voice. "Thanks, though. I'm good."

The last thing she wanted to do was crash at her new-found aunt's house and make her think she couldn't take care of herself.

Taking Rush's suggestion, she said, "I'm staying here."

"Oh, good." Cora smiled. "I want to talk with you tomorrow after we all get up. There's so many things I want to ask you."

"Hm." She crossed her arms. "There's not much to say."

"We're related."

"But we don't know each other."

"We will." Cora nodded. "It just takes time."

"If you say so." She turned toward Cora. "I'm going to find a vacant room. I'll catch you later."

"Sure." Cora frowned in disappointment. "See you tomorrow."

She walked away. It wasn't her job to make Cora happy. She came to see what her aunt looked like and found out. There wasn't anything familiar between them, except they both had the same hair color—though Katrina hadn't seen that color on her head since she was sixteen and dyed her honey-colored hair black.

Black hair fits her personality more. There was nothing bubbly about her. She was moody and temperamental—that's what Mama Sue called her.

Passing the table with the drinks set out on it, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey that still had some liquid. She'd need it to get to sleep.

Usually not a drinker, the idea of seeing Jagger tied her up in knots. She needed something to relax.

She walked down the hallway, opening doors. Every clubhouse had vacant rooms, but many times, single members would party and stay at the clubhouse so they wouldn't have to ride after drinking.

Closing the door after seeing a duffle on the floor, she moved to the other side and opened the room. A quick scan had her stepping back into the hallway. But she stopped before going to the next room.

A familiar couch sat against the wall. She turned on the light to ensure she saw things right and shut herself inside.

It was Jagger's room.

She'd know his furniture anywhere. He slept on the couch more often than on the bed.

Walking across the room, she sat on the sofa and grabbed his pillow, hugging it to her chest. She closed her eyes. A deep shudder rolled through her.

Tonight was the first time she'd seen him since the night her dad walked in on them. It'd been the worst day of her life.

Back then, she had no say in anything. Her dad had returned and thought he could control her life. And if it wasn't her dad making the decisions, it was Jagger walking away from her.

Curling up in the corner of the couch, she inhaled deeply. The pillow smelled of smoke and leather.

Damn him.

A lot of things had hurt her throughout her life, but Jagger caused the most damage. Her heart would never be the same.

He'd turned her into a bitch.