f.u.c.k if it ended up that way.

Maybe I began my descent during the Marines, after all the bulls.h.i.t deployments had finally eaten away at my soul. But I didn't go full f.u.c.king throttle into the abyss until I joined the Inferno. I was drifting, after I got out of the Marines. No, not drifting. I was f.u.c.king lost at sea with no rudder. No structure, no purpose. Just me and all the memories of the s.h.i.t I'd done and seen. I was filled with rage, and no amount of talking about my feelings was going to change it. And I couldn't come home and face all the people who knew me, once upon a time. I couldn't face my dad, most of all.

So I'd picked Los Angeles. I figured I'd always heard people talk about how soul-sucking it was. It would be a perfect fit for me, the man without a soul. I got a job as a supervisor at a warehouse. Turns out, being a supervisor at a warehouse is really f.u.c.king boring.

So when one of my buddies introduced me to Blaze, Vice-President of the Inferno MC, it seemed like an ideal place for someone like me. I wasn't the only disillusioned veteran there. My buddy fell out while prospecting, but me? I went full monty, prospected and patched. Worked my way up pretty quick, too.

Mad Dog seemed took a real shine to me, psychopath that he is. He liked that I'd killed before with no qualms, and guided my skills toward his particular need - club enforcer. It wasn't long before he got to trusting me. What he didn't count on was that my policy was to never trust anyone, no matter the rank. I'd learned that when I was in the Marines.

What I'd told my dad before, all that s.h.i.t about brotherhood? Yeah, that sounded great. The problem was, it's what I believed when I started, but I didn't believe it anymore. Kind of hard to believe in that when your own brothers just tried to kill you. But I guess that's been going on since the beginning of time, Cain and Abel and all that.

And the past year had been the worst, all the drugs and booze and girls. None of that had really gotten to me before. But it had become harder and harder to keep my head above water. The worst of that s.h.i.t was getting involved with Sam, a stripper with a hard core c.o.ke habit and a penchant for doing crazy s.h.i.t.

Three months ago was the end of that, thank G.o.d.

Three months ago Los Angeles I rode in, past the gate guard, and could already see the clubhouse was busy, even though it was two in the morning. Bikes lined the parking lot, and I could hear the thumping of ba.s.s from the speakers inside before I'd even pulled off my helmet. I needed a party after this s.h.i.tty week, even though really I didn't want to deal with one.

Inside, the place was torn up, par for the course on a party night. The clubhouse wasn't exactly the highest quality establishment ever, and I hadn't been enforcing good order and discipline as much as I used to, back a year or so ago. Mad Dog had let in a couple of guys who were s.h.i.tbags, one who I thought was using more of the meth than he should be, and Blaze was distracted, gone to Stanford half the time, banging Dani.

So parties, while they used to be just wild, had gotten out of control.

I surveyed the room, taking in the chaos. One of the mamas, Deb, was bent over the pool table where a group of bikers were running a train on her. Deb was into that kind of thing, luckily, but I wasn't sure this new group of a.s.sholes Mad Dog had recruited gave a s.h.i.t if the female was into it or not, and that made me nervous.

"Good to see you, brother," Mad Dog said, clapping me on the shoulder as I walked inside. He reeked of cheap whiskey and cigarette smoke. I exhaled heavily. I was tired and didn't want to deal with him tonight.

"Yeah, Prez. You too."

"Been gone a while."

I shook my head. "Went out for a ride."

"Well," he said. "You should be careful riding alone at night." His voice sounded friendly, but nothing was ever really friendly with Mad Dog. There was always subtext.

"I'm always careful," I said.

"Yeah, well, as long as you know where you got to come back to." He sauntered off, back to the used up looking girl waiting for him. She giggled, tossing her bleached blonde hair over her shoulder and stumbling drunkenly into him before they staggered to the back room.

Mad Dog's Old Lady wasn't around. She was hands off, more and more lately, turning a blind eye to Mad Dog's wandering one. Me, I would want my old lady to have the cojones to kick me in the nuts if I got out of line like that. I might be an a.s.shole, but if I ever did find someone, I wouldn't mess it all up s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around on her with trash like that.

Sam walked over, hips swaying, jeans sitting so low on her hips I could see her thong inches above the waistband.

"Hey, Axe," she said, her voice a sing-song. She stood close to me, her red lacquered fingernail tracing the seam on my cut. "I missed you, baby."

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing here, Sam?" I was done with her. I'd told her as much the other day.

Sam kissed me hard on the lips, and I tasted liquor on her breath. "Baby, you need to take me in the back room."

"You need to get the h.e.l.l out of here," I said. "You're not welcome." Even when I said it, I could feel myself getting hard just looking at her. d.a.m.n it.

"Don't be like that, baby," Sam said. "I'm sorry for what happened." She pouted. I hated when she did that. Then she leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. "I need you inside me." She slid her palm against my c.o.c.k, and I groaned.

"Give me a minute, Sam." I needed to step back from her, remind myself why I wasn't with her. She was hot, that was for sure, but she was also crazy. And an addict. And I kept getting sucked into her whirlwind when I was with her. Two days ago, we'd had a blowout, and I was gone. I was. Until she put c.o.ke on her nipples and told me to lick it off.

Sam pouted. "Do I have to find someone else?"

Pushing her away, I headed for the bar. "Do whatever you want, Sam. Maybe try going home."

"You're such an a.s.shole, Axe."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her flounce to the other side of the room where she joined one of her girlfriends on the couch. I rolled my eyes. Sure, I was h.o.r.n.y, but I didn't need her brand of crazy tonight. I nodded at the prospect behind the bar. "Gimme a bottle of Jack."

"You want a gla.s.s, man?"

"Just the bottle."

The prospect raised his eyebrows. "One of those days?"

"Shut the f.u.c.k up." He handed me the bottle and I took a swig, savoring the feeling of the alcohol burning on the way down my throat. That was better. "You seen Crunch around here anywhere?"

"Oh yeah, man, I saw him a couple hours ago. Haven't seen him recently though." Crunch probably wasn't here. He wasn't much for the parties anymore. Having his kid had calmed him down a bit, at least where the fighting and the partying was concerned.

I hoped I'd be that way if I ever had a kid. More mellow.

I took another swig of the whiskey. Some father I'd make.

I caught Sam's eye across the room, where she'd found the lap of one of the new patches and was giving him a full view of her t.i.ts in her tank top.

Christ, Sam knew how to p.i.s.s me off.

That guy thought he was about to get lucky. He wasn't.

I took another drag from the bottle, and walked over to her, pulling her by the arm off the new patch.

"Get the f.u.c.k off his lap," I said.

"Come on, man," the new patch complained as I pulled Sam by the wrist toward a back room. She liked it when I was crazy and possessive, knew what to do to push my b.u.t.tons. I hated her for that.

I pounded on the door, not waiting for a response before I opened it. Tank was pa.s.sed out in bed, his pants down, flaccid d.i.c.k against his thigh. Two girls were sprawled out in bed beside him naked, making out.

"Hey! You can't just barge in here!"

"Get your s.h.i.t," I said, picking up wadded up clothing from the bottom of the bed and tossing it at them. "We're using the room."

"We're busy!"

"I said, get out. And wake him up." The man roused, shaking his head and mumbling incoherently. "Tank!" I yelled, loud enough for him to hear. "Get the f.u.c.k out of here. I need the room."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, tucking his c.o.c.k back inside his pants and stumbling out with the girls.

Sam wasted no time helping me out of my clothes, and I pushed her up against the wall, forcefully, probably too forcefully. I didn't give a s.h.i.t if I bruised her or not. Sliding my hand under her shirt, I felt her nipple harden to my touch, and she moaned. I reached into my back pocket for a condom, pausing from kissing her long enough to roll it onto my length before returning my attention to her. She yanked her jeans down over her hips.

Gripping the back of her legs, I lifted her up against the wall, plunging myself into her, my thrusts hard and fierce. She kissed me hungrily, pulling my head against her. I f.u.c.ked her, not caring if she came or not. It was solely about my own pleasure. Sam liked it rough; she got off on it. When she came, she screamed into my ear, digging her fingernails into my neck. I came right after her, nearly collapsing into her. We stood there for a minute, her legs around my waist.

Sam leaned her head back against the wall, sighing. "d.a.m.n, Axe. That was good. You've been holding out on me."

When I let go of her legs, her feet hit the ground, the clank of her heels against the floor loud in the room. I straightened myself, tossing the condom in a nearby trash can. "Maybe if you stopped being so f.u.c.king crazy."

"Aw, Axe," she said, b.u.t.toning her pants as she sauntered up to me. I didn't know why I did this to myself, hooking up with her. I couldn't stand her. "Why do you have to be so mean, baby?"

"Why do you have to be such a crazy b.i.t.c.h?"

"What do you mean, baby?"

"Crazy, like, throwing a f.u.c.king ashtray at my head. Calling me a million times in a row. s.h.i.t, you forget you tried to stab me?"

"Axe, that was days ago," she said. "Ancient history. Anyway." Her voice trailed off as she rummaged through her purse. "You want to do a line?"

I sighed when I saw what she was offering. "I don't want to do it anymore. It's too much. And you promised you would stop doing that s.h.i.t. You've got a kid, for f.u.c.k's sake."

She laughed. "You're not my father, Cade. Don't be an a.s.shole."

"Why don't you go home? Is Tyler with the babysitter?" I watched as she bent over the table and came up, holding her nostril.

"Why don't you f.u.c.k off? He doesn't need a babysitter. He's asleep."

"What the f.u.c.k are you talking about, Sam?" I asked, grabbing her by the arm, my fingers leaving red welts. "You left that f.u.c.king kid home alone? What, are you some kind of psycho?"

"He'll be fine," she said, rubbing her nose.

"No f.u.c.king way," I said. "f.u.c.k." I pushed past her on the way out the door, sliding open my cell phone and dialing Mad Dog's Old Lady. She'd take care of this. "Kate? Sorry it's so late. Yeah, you too. Need you to do me a favor. You remember Sam? I know, I know, I don't need a lecture. Need you to run over to her house and keep an eye on her kid. She's all f.u.c.ked up."

Present Day I shook off the memory. Sam had been a low point in my life. f.u.c.k, there was a lot of time in the club that had been a low point. The entire last year had been one giant valley. But that night, with Sam at the clubhouse f.u.c.king me and doing c.o.ke while her kid slept at home alone? At least that was the last straw, the thing that made get the h.e.l.l away from her toxic a.s.s.

It didn't get me away from the club though, or out of the bottle. I'd sunk into those as far as I could.

Until now. Until June.

June Snuggling up under the duvet in my bed, I stretched out, luxuriating in the fact that I didn't have to get up, go anywhere, or do anything. Bailey was out exploring the yard, ecstatic that she had more s.p.a.ce than she could ever want to roam. From my window, I could see the expanse of s.p.a.ce between Stan's house and mine, the gra.s.s glistening with morning dew. This house was the refuge I'd been looking for, even if West Bend was bringing up old memories.

Memories of my family.

Memories of Cade and I.

I wondered when Cade had finally given up on this place.

Back when I was in high school, I never thought I'd leave West Bend. I believed I would stay here forever, that I would grow old in this place. Back then, I thought Cade and I were it. We would be forever. It was a naive idea, blissful teenage unawareness of what the future would hold.

I never antic.i.p.ated what would happen to my family.

Cade and I belonged together back then. I didn't have eyes for anyone else and neither did he. But how could we? We'd been raised together, in the same church, the same school, same summer camp. It was inevitable we would fall in love.

It was small town love and that was it. Nothing more. We were simply a relationship of proximity.

Cade wasn't the same as the boy I knew. And even if I kept seeing glimpses of that boy, I was mistaken. I had to be.

He was an outlaw now, a criminal. Nothing more.

And anyway, there was Jed. Blue-eyed, blonde haired, All-American appropriate Jed. The cop. A law-abiding, productive member of society.

Not a thug in a leather jacket, tattoos so dense on his arms you could barely see his skin underneath the tangle of inked pictures.

Of course, Jed was not the guy who made me shiver when he stood next to me.

He wasn't the guy whose clothes I wanted to tear off. The guy I wanted to lick every inch of.

But this was what I wanted, wasn't it? A return to a quiet, normal life. And what the h.e.l.l could be more quiet or normal than running a bed and breakfast in West Bend, and dating the town sheriff?

Anyway, it was just coffee. Not even a date.

I needed to get Cade and Jed out of my head.

I slid out of bed, letting the shower water run while I brushed my teeth. I stepped inside and yelped, scrambling out as quickly as I could. Ice cold.

I let it run for a while. Still cold.

d.a.m.n water heater. It was supposed to be fixed when I moved in.

As I threw on clothes, I ran through the options. Having someone come out on a Sat.u.r.day to take a look at it wasn't going to work.

I could go ask Stan for help.

Or Cade.

No, Cade was the last person I needed to come over here.

When I walked over to Stan's house, MacKenzie was already playing outside, running her little metal cars around in the dirt driveway while April watched her from the porch. "Hi, June!" she said brightly, looking up at me briefly before busying herself with her toys.

"Hey, MacKenzie," I said.

April stood on the front porch and waved me toward her. "June," she said. "How are you?"

"Cold. My water heater is on the fritz, I think. I almost took an ice shower," I said.

"You should have come over here," April said. "I'm sure no one would have minded."