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“Jaxon, my problem fucking child,” he taunted, a collective chuckle moving through the room. “We’ve been here before. Stood in this room while I handed your brother his prospect cut and had nothing for you.”
I nodded.
That moment had been the biggest wake-up call of my life.
Being a part of this brotherhood was, and is, everything I’d ever wanted. I’d spent my entire life surrounded by it—the love, support, and bond. To be denied my part in that felt like having my heart torn from my chest. It made me wake up my damn ideas and realize that being born into a legacy did not mean I deserved to be a part of it.
“Over the past year, we’ve watched you work hard to prove you deserve your patch, and I’m so fucking proud of the journey you’ve taken and the man you’ve become.” He walked over, guided my cut over my arms, and lifted it onto my shoulders. With it secure, he walked around to stand in front of me, reaching out and brushing his thumb across the patch with my new name. “The road name Bullet has so many fucking meanings. It connects you to your brother, who we’ve acknowledged with patience and endurance by noting that you are the exact fucking opposite.”
I grinned, my brothers all nodding in agreement.
“Everything you do is done at pace. You’re the first to jump in, to want to protect and serve the club, often shooting straight from the hip,” Dad continued, pushing his shoulders back and grabbing mine. “I want you to think more about your aim. Take a breath before you fire. Get a target for your future in mind and practice precision so there’s no chance you’ll miss.”
I could already see it.
I knew what I wanted.
But it meant proving myself to the men in this room, so that would be my focus, my target.
“Now that’s fucking done,” Dad announced, slamming his palms against Oliver’s—Bow’s—and my backs. “Let’s get a fucking drink!”
CHAPTER 5
STELLA
“Stell, look!” Jaxon called, the brightest damn smile on his face as he stepped into the small diner where I worked.
It was another one of my activities that my parents hated, but I was determined to make my own money. It was the only way I could be sure I wasn’t reliant on anyone and that my future would not be controlled by anyone else but me.
Jaxon tugged at the new leather he wore over his thick hoodie, turning his back to me so I could see the full Brothers by Blood MC patch and top and bottom rocker that framed it on the back.
Wiping my hands on my apron, I rushed forward, my heart in my throat. “Holy crap,” I exclaimed as I leaped into his arms. He lifted me off the floor, swinging me around twice before he finally placed me back down.
His arms circled my waist, and he tugged me tightly against his body, his lips searching for mine. I gave in, I always did, but it wasn’t like there was ever a fight. His tongue swept over my lips, and I eagerly opened, meeting his excitement with my own. Kissing Jaxon was what I imagined addicts felt when they shot up.
That euphoria.
That high.
It made my body tingle, almost like pins and needles, but I craved it.
I wanted more.
It was unlike anything else I’d ever felt and something I wish I could experience every day for the rest of my damn life.
He pulled away, pressing his forehead to mine while we fought to catch our breath. “Come help me celebrate,” he whispered, the rasp in his tone forcing a gentle smile to form on my lips. “We’re having a party on Friday night. Oli got his patch too.”
My hands traced the edges of his new leather—it was perfect, pristine, yet to be weathered like some of the older members whose leather tells the long story of their lives. Certain scratches and holes or tiny pulls in the thread held their own dramatic tale, which many of the boys were only too happy to share.
I loved it.
I loved hearing about their battles, how they fought to protect their brotherhood, or how they’d met their old ladies—that may have been my favorite part.
“Of course, I’ll be there,” I whispered back, pressing a light kiss to his pouting lips before taking a step back. “I need to tell you something, though…”
“Stella, I’m gonna need you to clear some tables!” my boss, Lexi, called from behind the counter. We weren’t crazy busy, but the dinnertime rush would be starting soon, and if I didn’t get ahead of it now, I would be in hell in an hour or so, trying to catch up.
“I better?—”
