Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

G arden City, Georgia.

Six months later…

“Miss Yoanni Sanz, bring your pad to my office.” Captain Weaver waved from the threshold of his office door. “Quickly, please, I have several letters to dictate.” He strode back to his desk and sat down before he called out one more time. “While I’m still alive would be great!”

Searching for her missing pad and pencil, Yoanni winced at the new assistant, Betty, who sat one desk over from her. “Yikes, he’s in a mood,” she muttered, scratching her head. Her desk had been emptied out.

Betty rolled her eyes in response. “That’s nothing. He’s been worse.”

Yoanni took a deep breath, first to control her temper, and then to shake off the uncomfortable feeling of knowing a stranger had rummaged through her workspace. Before she flew to Miami on leave, she’d stored her personal tools of the trade in the top drawer, which included an outdated plug-in calculator, a gift from her father to celebrate her first day at the station. All her belongings had been neatly arranged and ready for her return. But now… Except for a box of paper clips, the drawer was empty. The set of locked drawers on her right appeared untouched. Thank goodness, no one had attempted to force the lock open. This was where she kept confidential documents and the captain’s private correspondence.

She pulled out the single drawer on the left side. This one was much deeper and the one she used to store assorted supplies.

What the hell is going on?

Not only was this drawer empty, someone had wiped it clean, down to the last speck of dust. She shoved it closed with a thud, then stomped from her desk to the hallway office closet. Pressing her lips into a tight line, she grabbed a fistful of pens and two pads, then hurried back, feeling the captain’s impatient gaze on her. As she returned, she stopped before Betty’s desk. The young woman’s attention was glued to several documents.

“All my things are gone. Can you believe it?”

“Huh?” Dark eyes wide, Betty startled. Her loosely pinned hair collapsed in a mass of black curls to her shoulders.

“Has anyone been rummaging around my desk?” Yoanni asked. “Maybe one of the temps looking for supplies?”

“Umm. No…” Betty gathered her hair into a haphazard bun. “I realize you’ve been away on leave and all, and your desk was left unattended. But you’re the captain’s senior assistant. No one would dare touch your belongings.”

Yoanni tightened her forehead. Did she detect a hint of sarcasm in Betty’s response, or had she read too much into her comment?

In truth, she’d worried about taking the family leave. Six months was a long time to be away—people forgot you, and loyalties changed—and she’d felt guilty about leaving Captain Weaver. She’d worked at his side for years. No one humored his quirks and needs as well as she did.

Whether Betty knew it or not, she’d struck Yoanni’s sore spot dead-on.

“That’s so weird,” Yoanni grumbled, staring at her desk.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, if you don’t know, then you don’t, right?” she replied. “I can always ask the captain to look at the videos.”

Betty blinked. “Videos? As in the office surveillance videos? Isn’t that a bit over the top?”

“Someone went into my desk. My calculator is gone. The thing was old and barely worked, but my father gave it to me when I started. The brazenness of the act pisses me off.”

“Miss Sanz, you’re testing my patience,” Captain Weaver thundered from his office.

Yoanni jerked. “Maybe looking at the videos won’t sit right with him. I better go.”

“Hurry, please. Save us all.” Betty chuckled. “He’s been impossible without you.”

Dropping the supplies she didn’t immediately need back on her desk, Yoanni held on to a pad and pencil and strode into her boss’s office.

“Sorry.” She closed the door behind her. “I had to go to the stock closet and get supplies. Someone went through my desk while I was away and emptied me out.”

“Important things?” He frowned. “Should I have the desk dusted for fingerprints?”

“A little late for that. My smudged fingerprints are all over it.”

“I’ll have the station reimburse you for lost belongings. I don’t like it.” He shook his head. “Of all places, a police station should be the safest place to keep personal items. Unfortunately, the need to hire new personnel arose while you were on leave. We hired a couple of applicants on probationary basis. No one really worked until we found Betty. They were specifically told your work area was off-limits. I hate to think they went through your things.”

“That’s all right. Most of it was office-related stuff except for the calculator. It was old and had to be plugged in to work, but it had sentimental value. Papá gave it to me when I started here. It can’t be replaced.”

“Again, my apologies, Yoanni.” He sat back against his chair. “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll make sure the department reimburses you.”

“I’ll get over it.” She sat, tucking her straight black skirt under her thighs. Holding her pad and pencil ready to start, she waited for Captain Weaver to begin his letter. She studied him while he gathered his thoughts. Had his hair lightened to a silverier hue while she was away? Six months of separation gave her a better perspective to notice the changes. The captain was still a vibrant man, and his dark gaze was as sharp as ever, but while she’d been away, he’d picked up a few extra wrinkles around his eyes and lost weight. What used to be dimples had lengthened to deep lines.

“Captain, is something troubling you?”

He dropped his hands. “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing. You seem…out of sorts. Any other day, you would’ve handled the missing items more calmly. I can’t imagine your time in Miami was easy. How are your parents managing the situation?”

“The latest test results have given us hope. The cancer hasn’t metastasized, and the specialists believe Papá will go into remission at the end of radiation.”

“I’m sure that’s a relief for all of you. Will you move to Miami?”

“Me?” Yoanni straightened. “Why should I? ”

“Makes sense. You’ll be closer to your parents and the rest of your family.”

“Hell, no. I love them dearly, but as you said, my entire family is down there. My parents don’t need me. They have my brother, and there’s privacy in distance.” She held up her hands. “Miami and I don’t get along. I’ve made a home here. I love my job, and besides…”

“Besides what? Finish the thought, Miss Sanz?”

Swallowing hard, Yoanni dropped her gaze to the pad. She’d nearly opened the door to a subject she didn’t want to discuss with the captain: her short-lived affair with drop-dead gorgeous Barron Priestley.

If only she could forget. Push him out of her mind.

But she couldn’t. Even after her long stay in Miami, where the sweltering heat and punishing sun could bleach and melt the strongest memories from one’s brain, images of that wild afternoon at the biker bar, the day she first saw Barron, were still vivid for her…

It all began with Emily’s insistence on proving herself a worthy detective, and Yoanni, being a good supportive friend, had gone along with her reckless scheme: they dressed up in their sexiest outfits and went to check out the scene at the Dirt Road Saloon, the bar where the outlaw Sons of Chaos MC hung out. The plan nearly turned into a disaster. But Cutter, who was attempting to infiltrate the Chaos at the saloon, came to the rescue after Nails slipped a roofie in Emily’s beer.

And with him came Barron, one of Cutter’s closest friends and a Spawn brother. As Cutter dispatched Nails, Barron stood by, guarding his friend’s back. Yoanni’s little heart was so impressed by his loyalty, she fell for the handsome biker. Not only did he have the prettiest blue eyes she’d ever seen, his smile brightened the dingy interior of the bar. And when he asked her for her phone number so sweetly, she gave it to him on the spot .

In spite of a few obstacles, Emily and Cutter’s relationship rocketed off, but Yoanni and Barron’s moved at a snail’s pace. Though Barron was a loyal member of the Spawn, their relationship developed away from the MC. Barron took her to Savannah for dinner a few times. They went to the movies and rode out to the shore on his bike, but he rarely brought her to the clubhouse to hang out with the rest of the brothers. The few times he did bring her, it was for a quick in-and-out stop.

Yoanni had often wondered if Barron’s purpose was to keep her and the club at separate ends. And with that, a deep-seated insecurity took hold of her. Maybe he’d guessed or, worse, discovered her secret. The one truth that only her close friend Emily knew because she was a Little as well. A truth an embarrassed Yoanni had hidden from her relatives. Life in bitter exile had taught her Cuban family, the same as the other exiled families, many things. Topping the list was the necessity to ingrain specific abilities in a young Cuban woman. The safety net of life in the island home was no longer available. To succeed in this alien environment, she was expected to be independent, strong, and mature enough to fend for herself—with a big emphasis on the last part.

Here was sweet Yoanni Sanz with a Little personality seeking a nurturing Daddy lover. A highly weird desire, bordering on abomination by her family’s standards, and one they’d never understand or condone.

Even though her friend Emily had sworn that most of the Devils’ Spawn brothers, Barron in particular, had strong Daddy proclivities and were seeking the right mate for their love lives, Yoanni, unconvinced, kept her personality and unique needs hidden from him.

Since puberty, she’d known she was a bit different. While her friends talked about boys and went to the mall to hang out and shop for clothes and makeup, she was happier at home playing with her toys and stuffies.

Years later, she didn’t have the guts to jump out of the Little closet and declare her true self to Barron.

Nope. No way.

He had to show an interest and take the time to discover her on his own.

But he didn’t, and matters continued to cool between her and Barron.

The end of her romance came after the highly publicized arrest of the Sons of Chaos at the Main Street Warehouse. Unbeknownst to her and other federal agencies, the Devils’ Spawn and Captain Weaver had made an agreement not many people knew about.

Blade, the president of the Spawn, wanted to change the club’s outlaw status and public perception to a legit and community-friendly MC, and Captain Weaver had offered to help. But with his help came duties. Spawn members were sent on covert missions to outlaw clubs in nearby states where no one, especially a policeman—Garden City’s vice department was nonexistent—could infiltrate and gain enough proof to insure an indictment.

And Barron, because of his clean-cut looks, juxtaposed with his friend Johnny Gun—the epitome of a rough-looking biker—made him and Johnny G the perfect pair to gain access to rival clubs and glean evidence of illicit operations.

One time, Barron was gone for an entire month. That was enough for Yoanni. She cut ties with him once and for all. Her tender and sensitive heart couldn’t take his growing coldness and the loneliness of separation. If she harbored the smallest hope he would resist the breakup or try to reawaken their love, Barron snuffed it out when he seemed relieved it was over. Then her father was diagnosed with the big C. Her mother asked for her help, and she put Barron and everything else out of her mind. The time spent in Miami distracted her enough to forget. But when she opened the door to her Garden City apartment and walked inside, thoughts of Barron were like deadly projectiles, tearing and digging at her flimsy emotional walls.

The long months of separation hadn’t worked.

The ache to see him was as raw and fresh as that afternoon at the bar when she first saw him.

“Where were you, Miss Sanz? Besides what?”

The past dissolved under Captain Weaver’s insistent, deep voice. She lifted her shoulders in a casual shrug. “Sorry. I was evaluating your suggestion, and the answer is a definite no. I don’t want to move to Miami permanently.” Yoanni breathed out with relief. She’d escaped the thorny topic. Maybe. Had the captain accepted her evasion?

Nodding, he gave her a knowing grin. “Is Barron out of the picture?”

“Who?”

Captain Weaver laughed. “Miss Sanz, you’re as transparent as my own daughter. Fine. We’ll leave that conversation alone for now. I still have a slew of emails to answer. Make sure the dictated letters, especially the one going to the Atlanta Metro Police Superintendent, is on official stationary. They’re hung up on procedure and protocol up there. Per our phone conversation…”

As Captain Weaver spoke, Yoanni’s fingers flew over her pad. She hoped he’d get distracted enough with his work and stop bugging her about a man who was buried and forgotten.

Yeah, right.

Barron led his bike into his slot under the overhang. Odd, it was already past eleven in the morning, and his was the only bike. By now, one or two of his brothers should be up and about even after a long night of shenanigans. He crossed the yard and bounded up the porch steps to the clubhouse.

“Hellooo. Blade, got the info you wanted,” he shouted as he swung the door open. It was even weirder to find the club’s hangout room quiet and empty. And someone, most likely Cel, had vacuumed and dusted. He snickered to himself, thinking of a couple of guys who were allergic to neatness. She’d also rearranged the recliners in a tight half circle in front of the flatscreen TV. Smart move. Ice hockey, the Spawn’s preferred sport, would be televised in a few hours. Every one of his brothers would pile up in front of the TV, hooting and hollering, beer in hand.

That was a reminder…he was in charge of having enough beers for everyone tonight. Shifting directions, he strode around the bar’s countertop and looked inside the fridge.

“Shit,” he grunted. A six-pack of light beer wasn’t going to make the first round, and he hated going shopping on his bike.

“Barron?” Cel’s soft voice and a little boy’s squeal startled him.

“Hey, Cel,” he replied.

“Whatcha doing?” She shifted her five-year-old from one hip to the other. Little Jerrod, Cel and Blade’s son, was growing so fast, soon she wouldn’t be able to carry him this way, not even with her height. Cel was a tall woman.

“I came to see Blade, then I remembered I’m in charge of beers tonight. Do you know of a store that delivers? I’m on the bike.”

Cel slid the boy to his feet. Little Jerrod whimpered, throwing his arms up to be lifted again, but she magically produced a rubber dinosaur from an unseen spot, and he stopped fussing.

“Go sit on the sofa with your beebee dino. Go on.” She pointed at the sofa, and he scampered away.

“He’s getting so big. I bet he’s a handful.”

Cel sighed, rolling her eyes. “You can’t even imagine. Why don’t you take my truck to the store?” She picked up her keychain hanging from a wall hook next to the bar. “I won’t need it right away. I’m pretty sure the supermarket doesn’t deliver. The convenience store is way pricier, and the selection is limited.”

“That’s mighty nice of you, but I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“It’s all right.” She shrugged. “Blade isn’t here yet and I have more chores to do.”

Barron scratched his forehead. “Speaking of which, where’s your husband?”

“He went to meet Captain Weaver for coffee. Don’t know how long he’ll be.”

A queasy sensation struck him. He wasn’t ready to go undercover again. The last mission hadn’t been fun.

“Do you know why Weaver wanted him?”

Cel shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t.” She held up her key chain. “Well, are you going to borrow my truck or not?”

Frowning, Barron took the keys. “Thanks, Cel. The truck will make my life easier. Can I get you anything while I’m out?”

“Nope.” She smiled. “I’m all squared away. I made a dip for chips, and I’ll leave the snacks on the bar. If you see anything else you want for tonight, get it. Self-service, my dear. You guys are on your own.”

“I would never ask you to wait on us,” he protested.

“Not you, but some of your brethren forget I already have a child and a husband to—” The rumbling sound of a bike’s engine stopped her. Cel looked out one of the windows. “You’re not going shopping just yet. I saw Blade pull in.”

“Oh.” As he turned, Blade’s tall form crossed the yard toward the porch steps. “Beer will have to wait.”

“It’s early enough,” she murmured. “I’ll leave you to talk with Blade.” Cel picked up her boy from the sofa and moved forward, waiting for Blade to come in .

As Blade opened the door, he went straight for his family. “Hey, baby girl.” He kissed Cel first, then Jerrod’s forehead. The boy waved the toy at his father. Blade chuckled, “I see, beebee dino to the rescue.”

“The best entertainment ever,” Cel said. “I’m going back inside. Unless you’re hungry. I can make you a quick sandwich.”

“I’m fine. I had a bite with the captain,” Blade said.

“Okay.” Cel, with Jerrod in her arms, disappeared into the hallway.

Honoring their privacy, Barron had made himself as small as possible during the exchange between Blade and Cel. He was familiar with the Daddy/little girl dynamic and respected the interaction. Barron had witnessed Shark—the president of the Spawn’s Florida Key’s chapter—with his Little. He’d realized on the spot that a Daddy/little was his dream relationship.

Then he transferred to the mothership, Garden City’s Devils’ Spawn headquarters. On day one, Blade and Cel had been a revelation. The couple had found the perfect formula. Both were responsible and devoted parents who’d incorporated their Daddy/little girl dynamic into their relationship without a hitch. It never ceased to amaze Barron how the Spawn president transformed from a gruff, no-nonsense biker into a patient and loving husband and father. It was beautiful to watch, and Barron’s heart ached to have the same. His best friend, Cutter, had been lucky. An unforeseen arrest had reunited him with the woman he’d fallen for years before, and now they lived happily ever after in southern Florida.

As for himself, he once thought he’d found the Little of his dreams, but…

“How did it go?” Blade was back in direct mode.

“Maybe we should talk in your office,” Barron replied.

“Okay.”

Barron followed Blade into the dimly lit hallway. The MC president’s office was the first door on the right. Key in the lock, Blade opened it and quickly settled into his chair. A small pile of unopened envelopes was stacked on top of the desk before him. He moved it aside. Folding his hands on the desk, he said, “I’m all ears.”

“Before we get into the thick of it, earlier, I went by the construction site. The building is just about finished. They’re painting the facade, and our office is coming along nicely. My guess is the Johnston Agency can initiate operations in about two weeks, maybe less.”

“Excellent news.” Blade nodded. “Do we have enough guys to start?”

“Shifter’s all in. The guy’s a computer genius. I haven’t approached Tank and Chains. Both have military backgrounds. I think they’ll go for it. Johnny Gun is a given, and yours truly. So yes, we should have enough men.”

“Good. What else?”

“We have a couple of problems. Killer, the Wolves member Weaver had me follow, rode across the state line into Alabama as the captain suspected. But that takes the captain out of the loop. He has no jurisdiction in that state. Unless he brings a local police department into the investigation. And…there’s a cartel situation,” Barron said. “LaFayette is a great little town to establish a base of operations.”

Blade whistled. “The Oquendos again?”

“Not them. A rival faction. Los Emes.”

“What the fuck?”

“Literally, it means The Ms in Spanish. Shit, I had to write it down. The group’s full name is Los Miembros Olvidados. The Forgotten Members. Whatever the fuck that name means to them. From what I overheard, and believe me, the conversation was pretty heated, they’re the latest Medellin crime group. Reconstituted by the surviving members of the old cartel. ”

“Wait, what?” Blade’s eyes widened. “Medellin as in Escobar’s Colombian cartel?”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Rover, the Steel Wolves’ president, was pretty skeptical about Los Emes’s claims of unlimited cocaine-producing resources and their influence to push a northern expansion. For one thing, the cartel sent four clean-cut dudes who looked like young adults to the US to meet with the Wolves. You’d think they were just out of their teens, but look deeper and you see hardened criminal adults.”

“Christ, as if we didn’t have enough problems in this country, they keep bombarding us with drugs. But I’ll bet you anything those so-called young adults are ruthless killers. What else did you find out?”

“I took some photos.” He put his phone on the desk and slid it toward Blade. “I’ll text you a couple. Sorry I didn’t take more, but I had to be real careful. Johnny G gave me a heads-up. One of the Wolves kept checking me out. Kinda like he knew me. I can’t imagine from where.”

“Maybe he found you attractive.” Blade laughed. “You’re kind of cute. All clean-cut and pretty.”

“Fuck, you. I’m sick of that shit. This is how the military trained me to look, and I’m not going to apologize for taking showers and wearing clean clothes. It’s who I am, bro. Would it make the club happy if I grew a fucking beard to my navel and let my hair hit the middle of my back?”

“Come on, dude. I’m only yanking your chain.”

“I don’t get it. You have a buzz cut.” He pointed at Blade’s close-cropped hair.

Leaning back, Blade rocked in his chair. “It’s not the short hair or lack of a beard, man. The thing is, unlike the other guys, you’re never messy. Your sidekick, Johnny G, is a walking disaster. His jeans are usually ripped, and his shirts are ill- fitting, faded, and wrinkled. I doubt he’s ever met an iron he likes. But you, on the other hand…”

“Save it.” He lifted his hand. “I’ve heard it all before.”

“Hey, it’s an asset. Unless you’re wearing Spawn colors, you’re hard to read. That’s why Weaver likes sending you on missions. All kidding aside, most chicks like men who are neat and smell nice. I know for a fact.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, how was the meeting with Weaver? Anything new?” He instantly regretted asking the question. Blade’s expression told him he wasn’t going to be happy with the answer.

“Funny you ask.” Blade’s reply was so slow, Barron squirmed deeper into his chair, bracing for impact. He was fucked. Weaver had another mission for him, even though he’d returned from LaFayette twenty-four hours ago, not long enough to recover. There were plenty of guys in the club savvy enough to follow questionable targets. Why couldn’t someone else go instead?

“Where is he sending me now?” he asked. Why delay the inevitable?

“Sending you?” Blade’s expression went from confused to understanding. “Oh, I get it. You think he has another assignment for you.”

“Doesn’t he?”

Blade’s grin gave him the shivers.

“What’s with the sneaky smile?” Barron couldn’t be more uncomfortable.

“I thought you’d want to know. She’s back home.”

Blade’s blue-eyed stare pinned him to the chair. It was impossible for Barron to escape his president’s probing gaze. The “she” in question had to be Yoanni Sanz. The most beautiful woman he’d ever known. The dream girl he would adore until the end of his days, and the one he’d allowed, no, encouraged, to run away from him because he feared hurting her with his Dominant kind of love .

He found himself unable to utter a single word. His mouth was as dry as sand. The best thing to do at a moment like this was to get the fuck out. He pushed to his feet.

“Don’t you fucking move,” Blade snarled.

Barron sat back down.

“What happened between you two? You were made for each other,” Blade pressed.

“Have you lost it?” Barron snapped. “Yoanni and I couldn’t be more different. Look, it’s better this way…for everyone. Especially her. She gave me the boot.”

“Different, you say? How do you ride around town without getting killed or hitting other people? You can’t see an inch in front of your nose. Wake the fuck up. She’s your match. The Little made in heaven for you, asshole. I ain’t lost it, brother. You have.”

Barron tried to force a swallow, but his mouth wasn’t cooperating. Each one of Blade’s words felt like hands slapping his face. His brain roiled. Yoanni was a Little? Seriously? Quickly, he flashed to their few moments of casual age play. She’d gone along, almost like it was a game. He hadn’t noticed anything significant.

Is that right? Did you take the time to look?

Had he searched past his Dominant stubbornness and preconceived ideas?

“I don’t know what to say.” He ran his fingers through his short hair. “Yoanni and I fell into each other. It was nice and smooth, but… I had to know if she had the backbone to take a Dominant like me. So I tested her by presenting my dominance, and boy, did she balk. She pushed back like you wouldn’t believe.”

Blade gathered his eyebrows. “In other words, you tested her without any warning or preparation, and she gave you hell. Right?”

He nodded.

“Was she frightened? Did she run away screaming?”

“Well…no. ”

“Got news for you, bud. Littles are sweet, lovely, and so very precious. I married one, so I know. They bring out the best in Daddy Doms. But they’re not wimps. They’re feisty and bratty and will push your buttons day in and day out. That’s part of the age-play dynamic. Seems to me that Miss Yoanni Sanz has plenty enough backbone to handle you. The question is, can you handle her?”