Page 3 of Dark Savior

Callan leaned in, his face a mere two inches from mine. “Want me to be?”

Holy fuckin’ shit, he did not just say that.

“I—”

My words were cut off when the sound of two bikes riding onto the lot reached my ears. Callan and I looked over at the same time, and I sighed when I spotted just who it was. I hadn’t even been home a full twelve hours. Word traveled fast.

“Just great,” I muttered. I stood to my feet, Callan immediately following. Mom and Dad turned their bikes off, their eyes already on me. My shoulders tightened reflexively, all my walls going up hard and fast in an effort to protect me from them.

“Wish me luck?” I asked, looking up at Callan.

He snorted and took the blunt from between my fingers. “As if you’ll need it, girly. You can play the good girl part all you want, but at your core, you’re just a rotten apple like the rest of us. You can leave this club, sweetheart,” I could feel his eyes boring into mine through those dark, reflective shades, “but this club ain’t ever leavin’ you.”

With that, he strode inside, leaving me to face my parents by myself…

And leave me wondering if maybe he was right. Because as soon as I’d ridden through those gates in my shiny, expensive Range Rover, old habits had fallen right into place.

The brat was back, every defense in my body locking back into place.

“Heard you were back home,” Mom drawled as she and Dad strode up to the clubhouse. “No call. No text. Just… showed up.”

I forced a smile on my face. “Missed home is all.”

Dad scoffed. “You hate this place. Said you’d never return. And your grandfather is conveniently ignoring all my calls. What gives, Rachel?”

I rolled my eyes. “Am I not allowed back here?” I was already feeling defensive. I fucking hated when they pried like this. “I can go if that’s what you’d prefer.”

Mom curled her upper lip at me in disgust. “Stop being a fucking brat, Rachel, and act your age.”

A cold laugh spilled past my lips. “Act my age. Right.” Shaking my head, I turned on my heel, heading for the clubhouse doors. I was not doing this with them today. They were ruining my fucking buzz. “Well, here’s me acting my age, Mom. I’m being the bigger person and walking away from this shit.”

Before she could say another word, I shut the clubhouse door between us, effectively shutting her the fuck up.

2

Callan

The scent of coffee was all I could fucking smell as I took my seat at the table. We were all awake earlier than we wanted to be, hence the strong scent of coffee, and being woken up by Carter knocking on our doors just made being up early even worse. He'd called church at seven this morning, which meant something had happened.

Things had been quiet for almost an entire year now. I knew the peace wouldn’t last forever, but shit, it’d been nice while we’d had it. It’d given us some time to breathe and relax. To just exist.

But the moment I laid my eyes on Carter’s bratty little sister yesterday, I knew peace was about to be a thing of the past. For as long as I’d known Rachel, trouble had followed her. Most of the time, it wasn’t even trouble she’d started. But fuck if she wasn’t a magnet for disaster.

Couldn’t deny that the little girl with a nasty attitude had grown into a beautiful woman though. Gone were her chubby cheeks and soft figure. She was all woman now with curves in all the right places and an ass I wanted to sink my fucking teeth into. Her brattiness clearly hadn’t gone anywhere, but she had changed in many other ways.

She’d become hardened. Something about her was very no-nonsense, and I had a feeling if Carter tried bossing her around the same way he had three years ago, she’d lose her shit on him—and not in the aggravating little sister kind of way.

The fire I’d seen in Rachel’s eyes let me know she was capable of handling her own.

“Souls of Grim have been spotted in town,” Carter began. I sat forward a little, wrapping my hands around my own mug of coffee, interest piqued. The Souls of Grim MC were nothing but trouble, and we’d done our best to steer clear of them. “Don’t know why the fuck they’re here, but I intend to find out.” He pointed at Bruce, the club secretary, and Genesis, our road captain. “You two are to put your ears to the ground and get me some information.”

They both nodded, though neither of them looked happy at the prospect of being stuck together for the foreseeable future. Genesis and Bruce were constantly on again and off again, both of them refusing to commit, both of them refusing to stop sleeping with other people. I imagined their disgruntled expressions meant they were currently off.

Trying to keep up with their relationship status gave me a headache.

“My grandfather is also missing,” Carter said. I clenched my jaw. Hadn’t Rachel been staying with him? Not a fucking coincidence that she came running home and her granddad went missing all within hours of each other. “You,” Carter said, looking at me, “will be riding with me, Mom, and Dad tomorrow morning to go check on him. I want to ride today, but Dad said to give it a little while longer.”

I nodded once. I wasn’t keen on riding for hours, but I would. Especially if it was for the man who’d given us all a place to belong—the original president of the Royal Saints MC. He’d built this club from the ground up, and those like me—people who didn’t fit into society—had a home because of him.