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Chapter 7
Halloween, two yearslater—
Two years ago, I left Tonopah to protect the only person in this world I ever loved. Two years of wasted time counting down the days until I saw her again. Seven hundred and thirty days marked on my calendar. I crossed off every single one, wondering each night how she spent the day. A million lonely moments as I wished I could see her again.
And they all brought me to this moment. The day I returned to The Crossroads and my life resumed.
I had lived in limbo for two years, living a life that wasn’t my own. I worked on motorcycles in a repair shop. Earned my degree in Automotive Technology. I was a law-abiding, honest citizen to the neighbors in the quiet neighborhood that I lived in. In truth, I had to be.
Everything depended on selling that lie.
Grim knocked on the door to my apartment exactly two years to the day from the night I left that hospital room at Mt. Grant. I never had contact with any of the Royal Bastards MC members, Heather, her family, or anyone else I ever met prior to arriving at the safe house.
In two years, I never formed any friendships or interacted with women other than polite conversation. My heart belonged to another, and I stayed faithful to Heather in every way, even when my heart ached and my cock throbbed with need. I fucking lost count of how many times I jerked off in the shower or my bed at night, lost in the memories of her cinnamon-sweet lips and tight, welcoming pussy.
Grim cleared his throat.
As happy as I was to see him, only one person mattered.
The president, my new president, ticked his chin in greeting. “Spook.”
“Grim,” I greeted, unsure how to respond.
“We got a long ride. Let’s move.”
I arrived with only my backpack and the new documents, ID, and cash Grim handed over as I left the hospital. That was also how I left this apartment, shutting the door behind me without a backward glance. Nothing in it belonged to me or held any significance.
When we exited the building, I saw two motorcycles parked out front. One, a sleek matte black with a grim reaper holding a scythe on the tank. The other a shiny black and silver with a ghostly face painted on the tank. A spook.
Shocked, my head turned to Grim as he sat on his leather seat, chuckling at my expression. “For me?”
“Macon and Micah insisted on gifting it to you.”
Wow. I blinked back tears, sniffling as I realized it was the first present anyone had ever given me without an ulterior motive.
“I’ll be sure to thank them.”
“You do that.”
“Ready to go home?”
Home. I didn’t think of anywhere as home since I was a little kid. But picturing what home meant to me, letting my thoughts drift, I conjured the perfect place in my mind. It wasn’t a location—just one person.
Heather Sturges.
