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“Not all bikers are created equal, you know,” he says quietly.
I purse my lips. “I know there are some clubs that aren’t about that life. But sorry, one-percenters are a different story. I’m a nurse, Connor. I heal people, for God’s sake. I’m not going to date someone who hurts them.”
The conversation has shifted, and we both know it. His eyes lock on mine. “Our club doesn’t hurt innocents. I don’t hurt innocents.”
“Oh, please. Liar.”
“You best watch yourself, Kat.” His tone turns menacing. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Suddenly, my pulse is racing, chest heaving. “You hurtme, years ago, didn’t you?” I challenge him. “To please your president. Your priorities have always been clear.”
Connor is on his feet in an instant, clearly furious. Electricity crackles in the air between us. He is angrier than I’ve ever seen him. His fists clench, and for a second, the mask falls, and I come face to face with the full measure of how dangerous this man I haven’t seen in years could be.
Then, just as quickly, the mask is back. Eyes still flashing with the fury that must have earned him his name, Connor towers over me.
“It’s good to see you, Kat,” he says in a tight voice. Glancing over at a side table where I’ve left a pen and a pad of paper, he reaches for them and scribbles something on the pad, then tosses it on the couch next to me. “If you ever need anything, call me. Stay safe.”
Then, turning on the heel of his boot, he walks out and slams the door. Leaving me alone, stunned, and a little breathless.
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper.
I don’t know what just happened. In the last hour, I’ve gone from fighting off the advances of one man, to being thrown back into the past with another man I thought I’d never see again.
A man who stole my heart, then broke it beyond repair.
I pick up the pad and stare at the number scribbled there for so long that I eventually have to turn on a lamp against the approaching night.
I almost throw it out.
Almost.
Instead, I punch it into my phone, and press save.
5
FURY
I’m more rattled than I want to admit from seeing Kat again. As I eat up the last miles to the Royal Bastards clubhouse, a flood of memories — some of them pretty damn unpleasant — wash over me. I can’t get her out of my mind.
Kat’s right. Much as I hate to admit it. I walked away from her once, at the order of my club president. I chose my club over her.
At the time, I felt I had no choice.
And I’ve spent years since then trying not to regret it.
Before being patched into the Royal Bastards, I was in a club called the Chrome Skulls MC. The Chrome Skulls are a small, local club. They’re also what’s known as a local support club to the Minneapolis chapter of the Royal Bastards. There’s lots of reasons a smaller club might choose to ally with a larger one. For one thing, it gives the smaller club a certain amount of protection, and also more cred on the streets. In exchange, the bigger club gets some extra man power they can send out to do their dirty work when necessary. It gives the bigger club an extra level of insulation. The Royal Bastards can call on the Chrome Skulls to conduct business for them, which makes the Bastards’ activity less visible to law enforcement.
Larger clubs use support clubs for recruitment, too. A guy in a support club who proves himself worthy might be invited to prospect for the larger club. That’s what happened to me. Magnus and Norse saw my work in the Chrome Skulls and decided I’d be a good fit for the Royal Bastards. So I left the Skulls and patched into the RBMC.
It was Yates, my president in the Chrome Skulls, who told me to stay away from Kat all those years ago. The reason being that Kat’s brother Quad was in the Eagle’s Talon. Even back then, there was a lot of bad blood between the Chrome Skulls and the Eagle’s Talon, echoing the even worse blood between the Royal Bastards and the Bloody Scorpions.
At the time, I was young, barely twenty years old. I was ambitious, and hungry to prove myself to my club, no matter the cost. Yates made it clear that I had a choice between my club or Kat.
I chose my club.
Years later, I still wake up sometimes in the middle of the night, after a dream where she and I are still together.
Those are the nights I rarely get back to sleep again.
