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“I’m just saying.”

“I know what you’re saying and I’m saying don’t fucking say it.” That was one conversation I wouldn’t be having with anyone. Ever.

He made a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh before walking away down the corridor, his left hip carrying that slight hitch that we all pretended not to notice.

When he was out of sight, my thoughts drifted, as they tended to do in moments like these, to Sarah. She never came back to me in full pictures, or in sequence of our time together. No, that would be too simple if more torturous. But the memories came back in fractured sights and sounds. Her snort laugh that came about three seconds before the punchline. The mint and lemon smell of her hair. That awful fuckin’ cinnamon gum she always chewed. And then came the images of the end.

A mountain road at two in the morning.

Rain coming down just enough to make shit difficult.

A curve we’d taken hundreds of times before without incident.

The crunch of metal and the slam of a tree.

Blood. No more Sarah.

That shit was my fault. I made the wrong call, and it cost her life, which was only half of why I hated talking and thinking about Sarah.

The betrayal I learned about later, that was what shut the door on those memories—and my heart—forever.

Chapter Two

Ivy

This was my life. My poor, pathetic life .

It wasn’t the first time I had that thought, and it wouldn’t be the last. The Tuesday afternoon rush at The Print Shop had died down to nothing by three o’clock, which was why I heard the bell above the door clearly and had time to look up before I registered who it was.

Rex Price.

My father. Not that I ever thought of him in those terms. To me, a father was someone who would nurture you and care about you. Not Rex, who barely tolerated my existence. He never called ahead, just strolled into every room and occupied all the space in it as if it was owed to him. His broad shoulders took up more room than was absolutely necessary, highlighting his Warlords MC cut to perfection. I wondered what he wanted, generally him turning up unannounced was bad news, though going by the look on his face today, I was guessing it was more business than personal.

Thank god for small mercies.

I shoved down the acid pumping in my belly and set down the trimmer, waiting with my breath half held for my father to approach. I watched him cut a path from the door to the counter, paying next to no attention to anyone or anything around him. He spared no glance at the store, the photos, or anything else. He just looked at me with the flat attention he gave to pretty much everything he owned.

He stopped at the counter and stared at me with disgust in his eyes. “Would it fuckin’ kill ya to dress like a lady?”

I clenched my jaw and said nothing because he was a bully and lived for the fight. “Did you need something?”

His lips pulled into a tight, derisive smile. “Your marriage has been arranged,” he said in an imperious tone that required no discussion.

I folded my arms, digging my nails into my side to stop myself from saying something that would set him off. “And who am I marrying?” The last thing I needed was another abusive man to answer to, but this was my life and there were only two ways out. Marriage. And death.

I’d known this was coming for some time. I’d heard my father talking to his men, trying to arrange my life. At twenty-six I was more than old enough to make my own decisions, but I knew what price that came with. I’d tried to leave once, when I was twenty-one. I’d saved enough money for a bus ticket out of town. I’d got as far as Blackwood Springs when he found me. The weeks after that and the punishment he meted out, were something I couldn’t go through again. So instead, I’d acted like the dutiful daughter, biding my time until the moment I could escape for real. Maybe he’d marry me off to someone who was kind? Or maybe this time I’d be able to run? After working at the print shop for the last five years I had enough saved up to start fresh.

“So who is it?” I repeated.

“Knox Coleman. He’s the VP of the Iron Vows, but my guess is his old man ain’t long for this world so you just might be the old lady to a powerful man.” His smile made me sick to my stomach.

“When?” I asked as if it really mattered. It wasn’t a real wedding, and it wouldn’t be a real marriage.

“One week.”

A week. That was no time at all to marry a stranger, real marriage or not. My hands shook and my breaths came out shaky, so I focused on the straight edges of paper the trimmer left behind instead. I’d known it was coming, but it still didn’t make it any easier.

Rex went on as if I was an active participant in this conversation. “You’ll live at their clubhouse just outside of town.” He paused for effect. “You’ll be out of the house this weekend.”