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Chapter 1
Tate
“Whoo boy, you sure you can handle all this power?” Cross, the President of the Reckless Bastards MC shouted at me over the quick-fire shots of a semi-automatic.
I grinned at his wide smile. Cross was a big ass kid at heart, but he took his club responsibilities seriously, which was why he’d come over when I said I’d be at the clubhouse today. “I can more than handle it,” I told him and flexed my biceps.
“Good to hear, because those young honeys over there are checkin’ out the goods.” He wiggled his eyebrows as three half-dressed women made their way over to us.
I turned just in time to clock them. Two brunettes and a blonde, all hot and leggy with fake tits as big as hot air balloons. The blonde was the apparent leader of the threesome, pushing her tits out as she approached. “Hey boys, we were wondering if you did private lessons?”
Cross smiled and clapped me on the back. “No, but I’m sure we could make an exception for a group of pretty ladies. Isn’t that right, Golden Boy?”
I flashed what I hoped was a polite smile but the truth was these women did nothing to make my cock stir, which was damned annoying. Before being locked up, I would’ve taken all three to a dark corner and made sure they all left with smiles on their faces. Now, I felt jack shit. “Cross here is the boss and the best person to teach you to shoot.”
The blonde’s smile dimmed at my obvious brush off. “And maybe you could give us some after-hours lessons?”
“Sorry, busy.” I turned to Max who silently watched everything with a surprised look on his face.
“Whatever,” she said with a pout and I was sure if I gave enough of a damn to turn around, those collagen-enhanced lips would be poking out like a fucking kid. “We need more ammo. Cross, was it?”
“Sure thing, sugar. Follow me.”
“That was...unexpected.”
I looked up at my older brother who constantly looked worried about me, which I appreciated as much as I fucking hated it. “I’m not interested, all right?”
Max held up his hands, a smirk on his face. “It’s fine by me. I’ve got a great woman at home to love up on anytime I want.”
I smiled because I couldn’t have chosen a better woman for my brother. Jana was sweet and beautiful and had gone through a hell similar to his. They understood each other and to me, that shit was special. “And when I feel like having one, I will too.”
“I know you will. How are things are going at the shop?”
I nodded, talking as we both began to break down and clean the returned guns. “Everything is set, mostly. I hope to have the grand opening by the end of the week.” I used a small portion of the money I’d gotten in my lawsuit to open up a tattoo shop. At least I’d gotten something from the assholes who locked me up for six years for a fucking crime I didn’t commit. As a kid, I’d had dreams of being an artist but coming from a poor single parent home, I couldn’t afford such lofty dreams and enlisted in the Army. But this money, this fucking blood money, had given me a chance to make a future I’d always wanted.
“I know it doesn’t change anything, but that money is freedom bro.”
I nodded because I knew that. Still, the three million I got—a half million for each year inside—plus the fifteen in punitive damages after it had come out that the cops and prosecutor had hidden exculpatory evidence, felt like hush money. Like I wasn’t supposed to be angry about the years stolen from me. Well I was angry, dammit. “Doesn’t mean this shit doesn’t suck, Max.”
“No doubt, but that anger might get you locked up again. Legit this time, though.”
That was my biggest fear, that after the shit show my life had been for six years and three and a half months, I’d end up right back in that hellhole. “I’m working on it.” I wasn’t really but staying away from the club for the past few months had helped. Not that I blamed them for what had happened, I didn’t. But I felt out of sorts, uneasy around the people who were my family.
If not for Max and Jana, I probably would’ve already lost my shit a few times over. Cross returned with a smile on his face, and a telltale pink lipstick spot on his neck. “Love blondes...so fucking much,” he said with a groan.
Max snorted. “Natural?”
He shrugged. “Who gives a fuck?” He laughed and stared at the women, holding guns all wrong, but having a blast anyway. “A minute,” he said to me, his expression now business-like.
“What’s up,” I asked back inside the office of the RB Gun Range.
“Do you still want to be a Reckless Bastard, Golden Boy?”
I frowned. “What the fuck kind of question is that? I’m h
ere ain’t I?” What the fuck else did they want from me?
“It seems like you don’t want shit to do with us, and I’m not the only one feeling that way,” he bit out angrily. I understood his anger. It was his job as president to make sure we could rely on our fellow brothers when we needed them.
“Shit yeah, I do, Cross. Put yourself in my position, six years lost and not a goddamn thing you can do about it. Having people treat you like a fucking sideshow everywhere you go. Even the clubhouse. I came back to you guys because you’re my family. My friends. But if you think that camaraderie and shit makes up for what I lost, it sure as fuck doesn’t. And hearing the guys act like I somehow came up, pisses me the fuck off.”
I shook my head and kicked the ugly green metal desk that Cross must have picked up at a garage sale in the seventies. “I’m putting in my time here at the range, providing security for the dispensary and I’ve got two brothers set up to work for me at the shop. What the fuck else do you want?”
Cross stared at me; his dark blue eyes missed nothing. He wasn’t happy, but he understood. “I want you to get laid so you’re not such a miserable fucking bastard, but hey, you do you.”
“You go rot in prison for another man’s crime and then tell me how you feel, Prez. Later.” I stood and yanked the door open, storming out of the range with an angry wave to Max. Like I needed this shit.
I crossed the large blacktop parking lot that separated the gun range from the clubhouse, hopped on my bike and took my ass home. Where I could be alone.
Chapter 2
Teddy
Not many jobs would allow me the time for a late morning swim, but it was one of the perks of working for myself. This week included lots of downtime, well not exactly downtime so much as planning for an upcoming consultation with yet another reality TV couple. Not that I had anything against reality stars, but they were newly rich without the accompanying taste. But I gave them what they wanted, a lavish wedding befitting their new status as D-list celebrities.
Ugh. Now wasn’t the time to think about them—this time was mine. After a good thirty minutes of laps back and forth across the pool, I turned over on my back and let my body float. I got to relax in a way I didn’t always get to do, especially in public. People always stared at me and I wasn’t being full of myself, it was just the truth. They either recognized me as the former runway model and cover girl, and wanted to know what I’d been up to. They loved to tell me how much of a shame it was that I’d lost everything, because to them, losing the fame and the money was everything. The others? They just told me how fucked up it was that my limp marred the runway I’d spent my youth perfecting.
I went out and I used my sharp tongue to weed out the jerks and rubberneckers, and I usually had my best friend Jana at my side. Reluctantly, but still, at my side. Days like today, I preferred privacy and used the pool at the rehab center where I still did the occasional round of physical therapy to keep my muscles loose and strong. The old people usually gave me a smile and a wave, sometimes the occasional wink and the few kids were so focused on their own therapy, they paid me no attention.
“Hey lady.”
Must’ve spoken too soon. I looked over and spotted a black-haired kid with the lightest blue eyes I’d ever seen. “What’s up, kiddo?” He couldn’t be more than seven or eight, two lanes away from me with a bright grin on his face.
“What happened to your leg?”
