Chapter One
Wren
Irolledintothepackedlot ofOutlaw's Rest, my purple hair whipping against my face as I cut the engine of the Harley my dad had given me a few months after I’d turned eighteen.The night air carried the familiar mix of exhaust fumes, cigarettes, and, likely, trouble.Bikes from every club within a hundred miles crowded the pavement, chrome glinting under the parking lot lights, patches and colors announcing allegiances that normally kept to their own territory.But tonight was different.Tonight was the Bloody Valentine's Ball, the one night a year when colors didn't matter quite so much and everyone tried to behave.At least, mostly everyone tried to behave.There always had to be one idiot.
My combat boots crunched on the gravel as I swung my leg off my Harley, adjusting the hem of my black dress.The thing was tight over my ass and the uneven hem had a slit up to my hip.The top stretched over my breasts showing as much cleavage as I’d been able to manage in the deep neckline, while the long sleeves molded my arms.Over the whole ensemble I wore my club vest which declared I was club property.Not my usual style, but the old ladies had rules about the Valentine's Ball, and showing up in jeans meant cleaning the bathrooms for a month.I'd learned that lesson last year.
"Damn, girl," called a gruff voice from the entrance.A newer prospect from the Road Demons leaned against the doorframe, his massive build intimidating.Likely the reason the Road Demons took him in.I couldn’t remember his name but the man had been trying to get me to hook up with him for a solid month and his constant presence whenever I came toOutlaw’s Restwas anything but restful.I was getting fed up with the bastard."Ghost know you're out dressed like that?"
I flipped him off as I walked by."Ghost taught me how to gut a man with a hunting knife.Pretty sure he's not worried about my hemline."The aforementioned hunting knife was strapped to my thigh, peeking out from my skirt with every step.
The guy scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck."Fair enough."
The transformation inside hit me like a slap.Outlaw's Restwas the grimiest bar in three counties on a normal day, all dark wood soaked in decades of whiskey.But tonight, it looked like Valentine's Day had thrown up all over the place.Red and black streamers hung from the ceiling, tables were covered with dark tablecloths and centerpieces made of roses wrapped in actual barbed wire.Someone had even mounted MC patches inside heart-shaped frames along the walls.
"Jesus fuckin’ Christ," I muttered, taking it all in.
"Blasphemy in my presence?"came a smoky female voice.Mama Connie, Old Lady to the president of the Shadow Wolves, appeared at my elbow with a tray of shot glasses.Her leather vest was covered with patches that told stories I didn't want to know the endings to."Take a shot and ask forgiveness, Wren."
I chuckled, grabbing a glass and tossing it back, the whiskey burning familiar fire down my throat."Place looks...festive."
"Men think we just wanna play house," Connie said with a wicked smile that cracked the wrinkles around her eyes."Truth is, we love watching them squirm when they have to drink beer surrounded by hearts and flowers."
"They draw the line at glitter though," I said, remembering last year's argument.
"For now."Her eyes gleamed."We're wearing them down.By next year, those bastards will be pissing sparkles."
I laughed and made my way toward the bar, nodding at familiar faces from Bound in Blood and other friendly clubs.The bartender, a burly guy with more tattoos than visible skin, slid a whiskey toward me before I even ordered.
"Ghost's kid," he said with a nod of recognition.Not a question.Though it cramped my temporary style terribly, I wore my club colors proudly.I didn’t need to be a patched member of Bound in Blood or anything, they considered me “club property” by virtue of being the VP’s adopted daughter.The vest provided protection at an event like this.While normally safe, outlaw biker bars could turn on a dime.Said so right in the name.
"That's me."I knocked back half the drink, the label a lot better than what they usually served.Another Valentine's Ball perk."He here yet?"
"Nah.But Jack's in the back with some of the officers."
I felt a presence at my elbow and turned to find a young guy in a Bound in Blood prospect cut, looking like he might piss himself.
"Uh, Wren?I'm Decker.New prospect.Wanted to introduce myself, ma'am."
I arched an eyebrow."First, don't call me ma'am unless you want me to break your nose.Second, stop looking at my tits before Ghost notices and makes you eat your own fingers."
The kid went white, eyes snapping up to my face."I wasn't...I mean..."
I took pity on him."Relax.Ghost isn't even here yet.But seriously, eyes up."
"Yes ma...err, I mean, Wren."He shifted uncomfortably."Ghose, he...he talks about you a lot.Says you're the reason he believes in second chances."
Something warm and uncomfortable settled in my chest.I glanced away, uncomfortable with the emotion."Ghost talks too much."
"He said you'd say that, too."
I laughed despite myself."Go get me another whiskey, prospect.You'll live longer if you're useful."I took a chance ordering the guy around like that.Even though this was a laid back function, I always tried to show proper respect for the patched members of Bound in Blood, but fucking with prospects was practically expected.
As the kid scrambled off, I leaned against the bar and took in the room.Classic rock thumped through speakers that had seen better days, Guns N' Roses giving way to Aerosmith.Cigarette and weed smoke hung in the air like a storm cloud, despite the No Smoking sign the county kept trying to enforce.The entire place thrummed with the particular energy that comes when predators agree to play nice for a night.
"Look at these flowers," said a woman's voice nearby.I turned to see a group of old ladies from various clubs arranging centerpieces.
"Barbed wire's a nice touch," another woman replied."My man said the decorations were too girly last year.Told him I'd wrap his dick in barbed wire if he complained again."
