Chapter 1

CHAPTER

ONE

SPENCER

Leaning back against the edge of the tub, I rest my neck and close my eyes. My eyes are tired, and I need a break from my computer screen, so I’ve decided to take a bath. My audiobook plays in the background, the voices filling my office and consuming me.

It’s a sexy trope that I’m into right now. Although I’m into all tropes. I’m a trope slut, for sure. I do not discriminate at all and will read anything at least once. But this one is a hockey player falling in love with the forbidden younger sister of his teammate.

Hot .

My mind drifts back to my teenage years. He was thirty-one to my seventeen. I loved him with every piece of me—my heart, soul, body… everything. Even though I knew it was so wrong.

I threw myself at him, embarrassingly so, a couple of times. He turned me down gently, but he still turned me down. I was probably just some kid to him. Maybe he thought it was cute. Maybe he thought it was annoying.

And then, one night, he bit.

He was trashed. I was sober.

And I lost my virginity to him.

Or rather, I gave him my virginity. Because that’s what I did. I’d been saving myself for him in some teenage angsty fantasy. If I saved myself and gave my virginity to him, then he would realize he loved me, and we’d live together forever in a fairy tale, like in the books I love so much.

When it happened, he wasn’t necessarily gentle or sweet, but he was mine, and I loved it. Every single second. I never wanted the moment to end. I wanted him to fall in love with me and keep me by his side forever.

I wanted to be his old lady.

Tattoo his name on my body.

Ride on the back of his bike into the sunset and never look back. I wanted it more than I wanted breath in my body. I was willing to give up every dream that I had for myself because the delusion of him was bigger than anything.

And it was a delusion.

Brew Hughes was everything I ever wanted. I had him, but only for a minute.

The next morning, he woke up, realized what had happened, and freaked out at the sight of the blood on the sheets, along with me naked beside him. Then he swore me to secrecy and apologized for being an asshole.

I didn’t want his apologies.

I wanted his mouth everywhere on my body.

He pretended that I didn’t exist after that. My heart broke. He wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t talk to me. I was nothing. I was worse than nothing. I thought that perhaps it was because I wasn’t eighteen yet.

So, I waited. When I became legal, I thought that maybe, just maybe, things would change.

But nothing did.

I still didn’t exist.

Invisible and legal.

So I left.

I packed a couple of bags and took the acceptance letter from the small college in Austin that offered courses in digital design and marketing. They had dormitories. It wasn’t an insane amount of money.

I never looked back.

Personally, I hate thinking about that part of my life. And I hate that this book brought it to the forefront of my mind, no matter how sexy it is.

I was so stupid.

So young and naive.

Maybe I still am because I’ve wished more than once that he would show up and confess his love for me. I can’t count the times I lay in bed and imagined him darkening my doorway, confessing his love for me, and fucking me into next week.

It never happens, though. It will never happen.

Picking up my glass of wine from the floor beside the tub, I take a drink and let out a sigh. Then, I lean over and scroll backward on the book because I missed a whole chapter. Before I can get going again, my phone rings.

UNKNOWN CALLER

“Don’t get mad.” His voice sounds funny.

Combine that with the unknown number that came up on my phone, and I’m on edge as it is. Nothing about this can be good. I know it can’t. I don’t hear from him often, at least not by phone call. He usually texts me.

“Humble,” I growl.

I’m probably the only person who calls my brother by his given name, Humble. Our parents were not known for giving us traditional names, and Humble is a city in Texas. I never asked for specifics on how they came up with the name. But the Dark Horse MC has given my brother the dumbest fucking name to use… Clink.

That’s what he’s called now, and I hate it. I refuse to use it when referring to him. He is Humble. He will always be Humble.

“I’m in jail, and it doesn’t look like I’ll be getting out anytime soon. Probably end up in the pen, if I’m being honest.”

My heart beats against my chest so hard that I can hear the blood roaring in my ears. I don’t know what to say. I don’t have any words inside of me to actually speak. I knew this would happen. But I am frozen—my heart racing, my breathing coming out in short pants, and my vision blurs.

“Spencer. I’m so damn sorry,” he rasps.

His words cause my spine to straighten. “Was it your club’s fault?” I demand.

The shock begins to wear off as the anger bubbles inside of me. He doesn’t say anything, which is enough of an answer for me.

“It was their fault,” I whisper.

“I agreed to the job, Spence. I just needed you to know that I wouldn’t have my phone with me. But I’ll call you when I can. Hopefully, you’ll be able to come and visit me soon.”

God. I hate this. Tears prick my eyes, anger receding as sadness washes over me. “Whatever you need, Humble. I’m here for you,” I rasp, trying to keep from choking on my tears. I’m such a crybaby, but Humble is all I have.

He snorts. “No worries, little sister. The club has my back.”

My anger instantly reappears. I want to scream at him that they, indeed, do fucking not have his back. If they did, he wouldn’t be where he is right now. But I don’t say anything. He doesn’t need my anger thrown at him right now. He can literally do nothing about it.

But that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone who deserves my anger. And I’m going to make sure they get it—tenfold.

We end the call, though I do it out of protest, while he does it out of necessity. I’m left with an empty feeling inside. It consumes me, and I can’t believe this happened. I knew it was bound to one day. You don’t live life on the edge and not get caught eventually.

I had just hoped I wasn’t around to see it. But I am. So, now I have some decisions to make. Staring at my cell phone, I make one. It’s probably in haste. But I can work anywhere. I don’t have to be here in Austin.

I’ll grab a suitcase, pack my bag. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but I pack enough for two weeks. I can wash clothes when I’m in Pineville. If the Suds-N-Bubbles has closed down, I know I can drive to the next town to take care of my business.

That’s the thing with Deep East Texas—if you can’t find what you need in your town, there’s one ten minutes up the road, and they’ll probably have what you’re looking for.

Climbing out of the bath, I dry off as my snap decision takes hold. I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. But the time is now. I dress as quickly as I can, then move through my apartment like I don’t have a moment to spare. As if this is an emergency, though it’s really not. My heart is racing, and my nerves are completely shot. I don’t even know how I’m going to drive, but I can’t wait.

Packing my computer and all of my chargers in my laptop bag, I make my way out of my apartment. After double-checking my door to ensure that it’s locked, I head toward my Tesla that’s parked in my single covered spot and charging.

As I load everything into my car, I hear my name being called. Lifting my head, I look up to see my across-the-hall neighbor making her way toward me. I wince. I don’t want her to know I’m leaving for a while.

I don’t want anyone to know.

Not that I have anything of value in my apartment. It’s just better that people don’t know my business. I’d rather not be seen or heard. I’m better off being invisible and nonexistent.

“Are you going somewhere?” she asks.

If I could get in my car and just drive away without looking like a complete fucking asshole, I would. Giving her a forced smile, I clear my throat.

“Yes and no,” I lie.

Her brows snap together. Heather is pretty, tall, and thin, but she’s really nosy. She wants to know everyone’s business, and she’s not shy about telling you everyone else’s, too. Which is why I try not to tell her a damn thing about myself.

“Which is it, then?” she asks on a laugh.

My gaze flicks to the apartment building, then back to her as I try to think of something to tell her that she’ll believe. I’ve got nothing, so I have to give her a partial truth. I’m so discombobulated about Humble that I can’t even think straight anyway.

“I’m going to visit my brother for a few days,” I say.

Heather blinks. “Your brother?”

I hum. I don’t talk about Humble to many people, mainly because I don’t want anyone to look him up. It’s not that I’m embarrassed about who he is. I love Humble with all I have. We are trauma-bonded for life. But I don’t want to be affiliated with them . I don’t want that club to be part of my identity.

If he weren’t part of them, if he weren’t a Dark Horse, I would shout from the rooftops that Humble Maddison is my brother—my flesh and blood. Maybe it makes me a shitty person. I’m not sure, but I was raised in that chaos, and I want nothing to do with it. I don’t want to be part of any of it.

And I sure as shit don’t want to tell anyone about it.

brEW

The cabin is quiet. I know I shouldn’t spend this much time out here. I should be with the club, but I can’t help it. When my brother gave it to me, I knew I had found home. He was right to keep a place of solitude away from everything and everyone.

Away from the club, the booze, the women.

Never in my life did I think I would prefer solitude to a woman’s warm body—any woman’s warm body. But I can’t think when I’m at the clubhouse, and maybe I’m just getting fucking old, but sometimes I just want the quiet.

Walking over to the fridge, I grab a beer and slam the door closed, then make my way to the living room and sink down on the sofa. As I lift the beer to my lips, I reach for the remote control and touch the power button.

There aren’t any available television channels here, no cable of any kind, but luckily, I was able to get Internet and have a few streaming services. Thanks to those crazy satellite star trains that slide across the sky some nights.

I turn on a streaming service and continue watching a show I’ve been trying not to binge. It’s some shit that all the old ladies were talking about, something about the king and queen of England back in the 1800s or some shit. There’s sex in it, so it holds my interest.

As I stare at the screen, I start to zone out, and when I do, I think about her .

Spencer Maddison.

The one drunken night I had with her was the best night of my fucking life. It shocked the goddamn shit out of me. Not that she was a virgin, but the way that being with her made me feel.

I made a big deal about it afterward and ignored the hell out of her, too. It was the exact opposite of how I felt on the inside. I was an asshole every second I acted that way, but I had to.

Spencer would have never left Pineville had I done what I wanted with her. Because I wanted to keep her forever. I wanted to fuck her until there was nothing left of either of us, but thankfully, I was well aware of the fact that I was thirty-one and she was seventeen.

Spencer needed to live her life. She had a lot of it left to go, and I’d already gone through my twenties. I’d been completely free and done what I wanted, the way I wanted it. I’d built a life that was perfect for me.

But Spencer had dreams of her own. I knew it, and as selfish as I am, I couldn’t do that to her. For the first time in my life, I didn’t allow myself to indulge completely, only a little, and honest to fuck, that little was a bit too much. I was hooked on her immediately.

But I had to let her go.

It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, watching her drive away.

Lifting my beer to my lips, I take a long drink and then hiss as it slides down my throat. I have to restart my show. My fucking thoughts have taken over, and if I don’t pay attention to this show, I have no clue what’s going on. I have to concentrate because of their accents, and I feel dumb as fuck, too, while I do it.

Which only makes me laugh at myself, mainly because I know I’m dumb as fuck. I got shit grades in school, didn’t go past high school, and only ever aspired to be part of the Dark Horse MC. It has always been my sole purpose in life.

Another reason why I knew that Spencer not only needed better but deserved it as well.

Even if her driving away meant that my heart was ripped out of my chest and lost forever. So that’s why I’ll never have an old lady. Because there was only one for me. In the last decade, she’s never stepped foot back in Pineville. I’m glad. I wouldn’t want her to come back here.