2. Luna

2

Luna

Ghost disappears with Steel, and I’m finally able to focus on the chapter I’ve been staring at for the past thirty minutes. I finish taking notes when a message pops up from Rider in my online gaming app, asking if I’m in the mood to play tonight.

There’s someone else I’d rather be spending time with, but Ghost is ignoring me and MIA as usual, so I take what I can get and let Rider know I’ll log on for the raid he’s coordinating.

It’s better than sitting alone staring at a wall.

I’ve been lonely lately.

The clubhouse has been quiet since the Iron Sinners kidnapped Steel’s old lady and her brother a few weeks ago. They were thankfully rescued without being harmed, but the club has been on high alert ever since. An attack on the president is as bold as it gets, and that means fewer parties, less visitors, and more time to sit and stew with my pent-up sexual tension.

Reina keeps trying to convince me to screw one of the guys and work it out of my system, but that’s the problem. I can’t, and I won’t.

The Twisted Kings are off-limits. The second I fall into bed with one of them, things are bound to get complicated. Besides, the only one I have any interest in couldn’t care less about me.

So instead of worrying about getting laid, I focus on work and school. And in my free time, I play my online multiplayer game with Rider, giving me an escape from life at the clubhouse.

Rider joined my guild around the time I first moved to Vegas, and we both enjoyed raiding and player-versus-player gameplay. Slowly, we spent more time together and talked about our lives outside the game. And now, he’s more of a friend to me than some of the people I live at the clubhouse with.

With Rider, it’s simple. We play and keep each other company. No complications and no strings. He doesn’t even know my real name.

It’s perfect.

Behind my character, I can be anyone I want. I can hide in plain sight like I do in Vegas. I can pretend my past doesn’t exist and just be an elf on the screen, with purple hair that matches mine in real life.

Rider : You’re burning through your cooldowns, little owl .

SnoOwl : Are you telling me how to play now? Watch it, or I’ll point out that you’re running low on mana… AGAIN.

Rider : Isn’t that you pointing it out?

SnoOwl : Maybe.

His character stops moving on the screen, and I watch as his mana bar regenerates with the potion he just consumed.

SnoOwl : You’re welcome.

Rider : I was already on it.

SnoOwl : I’m sure you were… or maybe you were distracted by my new chainmail dress…

My elf is wearing something short and revealing as always. I enjoy dressing her up, even if this outfit does nothing to protect her. Still, it’s a standard piece of gear for my character because God forbid men who play women in game have to look at something not revealing while battling monsters.

Not that I mind it.

This outfit shows off my character’s glowing, purple runes.

Leaning back in my chair, I kick my feet up on my desk and tap my fuzzy, pink slippers together. My wireless keyboard is on my lap as I kite the boss, moving around him and waiting for my cooldowns to reset.

Rider : With a dress like that, you should hit up Timbershire after this raid and see if you can get some gold.

SnoOwl : Very funny… We both know I’m not that kind of lady.

Rider : Technically, you’re an elf.

SnoOwl : I’m not that kind of elf then .

Timbershire is one of the places in game where people gather to strip their characters down to their underwear and talk dirty. Sometimes, Rider and I go there to laugh at how ridiculous it all is, but I never participate.

Rider: Just say the word, little owl, and I could take you on a real date. Or are you still swearing off all men?

I laugh at the fact that he remembers I said that. I was bitter at the time. I’d caught Ghost watching me from across the room, so I took a shot of vodka and figured I’d actually try and flirt with him. He shut me down so fast, my pride hurt for a week from the whiplash.

SnoOwl : You couldn’t keep up with me if you tried.

Rider : I’d still try ;)

The boss topples on the screen, his health taking a massive drop.

Rider : Nice hit.

SnoOwl : Thank you.

I do an in-game curtsy before turning my attention to the minions that spawned the second the boss went down.

Rider helps me pick them off one by one, and after we collect our gold, we teleport to a safe zone. I set my character into dance mode while we wait for the next raid queue.

People run past us on the screen, heading to their missions. And I wonder what it says about me that my online elf life is the most normal part of my day. Or that Rider, a man I’ve never met in person, is one of my closest friends .

The downside of living with a motorcycle club is that it can be isolating and lonely, especially when they’re in lockdown.

While many of the girls here are looking for a relationship or waiting for a biker to claim them as their old lady, I’m in limbo.

I’m an outsider in a building filled with people.

When Tempe showed up, she felt like a kindred spirit. She was an outcast, too, since her father was Steel’s former VP, and he betrayed the club. We were both here for unusual reasons, and it gave us something in common. But now that Tempe is Steel’s old lady, I’m aware there’s a difference between her role in the club and mine.

I’d like to think the Twisted Kings are my family, but if my childhood taught me anything, it’s that family can be as temporary as friendship.

I bounced around from foster home to foster home growing up, collecting bad memories and non-blood-related siblings. And when I turned eighteen and was no longer worth the checks I used to come with, I was kicked to the curb.

It was just me, alone, in a world that couldn’t care less if I found my footing or drowned.

That’s why Rider and I get along so well. He doesn’t have any blood relatives either. We’ve both always been on the outside looking in. Seeing what a family is supposed to look like and not having one.

My computer pings, snapping me out of my thoughts.

Rider : You’re quiet today. Everything all right?

SnoOwl : I’ve just got a lot on my mind .

Rider : Like?

I debate not saying anything, when there’s nothing that he can do about it, but maybe it will help to get it out.

SnoOwl : Something feels off with the guys.

Rider doesn’t know I live at an MC clubhouse. So when I first mentioned the guys , he assumed they were my roommates, and I left it at that.

Rider : Are they treating you all right?

SnoOwl : Yeah, they always do. It’s not that. I just get this feeling they know something that I don’t. Something was off tonight, but I don’t know what it is. It feels like everything’s about to change.

Rider is quiet for a minute on the other side of the keyboard. A message pops up that he’s typing, and I glance around my empty bedroom while the in-game music plays in my ear.

My roommates’ beds are empty since Reina and Wren are with the guys at the bar partying. So I have this room to myself at the moment.

It doesn’t usually bother me, but tonight, it feels so empty the silence is deafening.

A ping from the computer pulls my attention back to the screen.

Rider : You always feel like that, remember? But from what you’ve said, they won’t let anything happen to you. You can trust them, can’t you?

SnoOwl : I think so.

Rider : Everything’s going to be okay .

I wish he had the power to make that promise. I wish I could pull us out of the screen and have a connection with a real live person in my life for once.

We get along, so maybe it could be something more. I could move out. I could move on.

I’ve been in limbo for so long that I’m in a constant state of suspension between who I am and who I want to be. Never quite living in the present when one foot always toes the line with the past.

Rider : It will be okay, little owl. I promise.

SnoOwl : I hope so.

Rider : Hey, I gotta run. Just remember what I said. Everything will be okay. I’ll make sure of it. Good game.

Rider logs off before I can respond, and I sit staring at the elf running into the rock wall ahead of me, relating a little too much to how that feels when I keep hitting one myself lately.

Shutting my game off, I place my headset on the desk and lie down in bed. Little glow-in-the-dark plastic stars decorate the dark ceiling, and I trace the patterns with my gaze. Reina told me a previous patch bunny hung them up, and I’m thankful for it because it gives me something to stare up at in the dark of night.

If only plastic stars granted wishes.

I’m halfway asleep when a knock comes at my door, jolting me awake. If it were Reina or Wren, they’d just walk in, and when I glance at the clock, it’s one thirty in the morning.

“Coming.” I hop off the bed, walking over to swing the door open .

Havoc is standing on the other side with his arms crossed over his chest.

Once more, that sinking feeling I’ve had all day settles. Last I saw him, he disappeared with Reina, so this can’t be good.

“Prez wants to see you.” Havoc frowns, but I don’t know why.

He’s the club’s sergeant at arms, so there are very few things that make him nervous outside of threats to the club. But right now, the pinch between his eyebrows tells me he’s worried.

I nod, following him down the hallway.

Havoc is a large man, and he takes up most of the space with his wide, muscular shoulders. His long hair is tied back like it usually is, and his thick, tattooed arms are on display in his T-shirt and cut.

It’s quiet as we pass the kitchen, which means anyone still awake must be hanging out by the bar up front. And when Havoc leads me to the room where the club holds church, my stomach churns.

No one is allowed in here, especially club girls. This is the club’s most sacred space, and the second I walk in, everything feels wrong.

The chairs circling the table are filled with the ranked members of the club, with Steel at the head watching me with a stone-cold expression. At his side is Soul, his vice president. Havoc sinks into the chair at Steel’s other side while Legacy and Chaos watch each other like they’re having a silent conversation .

Ghost sits back, his expression like ice, and I know in the pit of my stomach this can’t be good.

“Have a seat, Luna.” Steel waves to the empty chair at the other end, directly across from him. “We need to talk.”