TATTERED ON MY SLEEVE.

(Lost Kings #4).

Autumn Jones Lake.

I had her first.

Eight years ago, the Lost Kings, MC was recovering from turmoil within the club Wrath and Trinity met.

I fell in love with her.

After three perfect nights, Wrath knew she was the one. But Trinity's dark past was about to catch up to her and the Lost Kings MC was her only hope for protection.

Then we fucked everything up.

One misunderstanding led to a mistake that locked both of them into a war to see who could hurt who the most.

We've wasted too many years. It's time for Trinity to understand-she's mine.

When long-buried secrets are finally revealed, Wrath will stop at nothing to fix things and make Trinity understand she belongs to him.

As always I have to thank a number of people who helped make Tattered on My Sleeve possible.

My faithful critique partners, Cara Connelly, Kari W. Cole and Virginia Frost. If my writing has improved over the last year, I know it's from our weekly Wednesdays. Cara in particular spent many days relentlessly red-inking the mess of pages I handed over and her help was invaluable.

Angi J., Amanda, Brandy, Chris, Clarisse, Elizabeth, Iveta, Tamra, Shauna, and Shelly. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking with me. Thank you for your advice, support, and eagle eyes! Manda, thank you for your expert beta feedback.

Vanessa, I'm so happy we finally got to work together. Thank for pushing me to drill down and focus on the main story. I can't wait for future projects.

Elizabeth, Tanya, Terra, Johnnie-Marie, thank you for the time you spend promoting my books. Krystal, you're the best release day hostess ever-thank you for everything!

My Lost Kings MC Ladies facebook group-you guys are awesome! Thanks for insisting on Trinity Tuesdays and Wrath Wednesdays and for reminding me when I was running late! Now that Wrath has been unleashed, we'll have to figure something else out.

Iza thank you for #propertyofwrath. I think you love Wrath as much as I do.

One thing I've noticed on this journey is that MC Romance readers are some of the most loyal, enthusiastic and supportive readers an author can ask for. Thank you.

There are so many other people I'd like to thank, but I'm afraid I'll forget someone.

Last and never least, my husband. He's the best parts of all my romance heroes wrapped up into one big pain-in-my-ass package and I'd be lost without him.

I first used a glossary in the Road to Royalty limited edition boxed set and thought it might be helpful here as well. If you're new to the Lost Kings MC (welcome!) it might be helpful to have some of the things specific to them mentioned ahead of time. If you're new to Motorcycle Club Romances in general, it also might be helpful. If you're familiar with the series (welcome back!), maybe you'll find the refresher useful.

The Lost Kings MC Organizational Structure President: Rochlan "Rock" North. Leader of the Upstate NY charter of the Lost Kings MC. The word of the President is law within the club. He takes advice from senior club members. He is the public "face" of the MC. No one challenges the decisions of the President.

Sergeant-at-Arms: Wyatt "Wrath" Ramsey. Responsible for the security of the club. Keeps order at club events. Responsible for the safety and protection of the president, the club, its members and its women. Disciplines club members who violate the rules. Keeps track of club by-laws.

Vice President: Zero or "Z". In most clubs, I think the VP would be considered the second-in-command. In mine, I see the VP and SAA on equal footing within the club. Carries out the orders of the President. Communicates with other chapters of the club. Assumes the responsibilities of the President in his absence. Keeps records of club patches and colors issued.

Treasurer: Marcel "Teller" Whelan. Keeps records of income and expenses.

Road Captain: Blake "Murphy" O'Callaghan. Responsible for researching, planning and organizing club runs. Responsible for obtaining and maintaining club vehicles.

Lost Kings MC Terminology.

Crystal Ball The strip club owned by the Lost Kings MC and one of their legitimate businesses. They often refer to it as just "CB".

"Conference Center" The clubhouse of the Lost Kings MC. It was previously used as a conference center and is sometimes jokingly referred to this way.

Empire The fictional city in Upstate NY, run by the Lost Kings.

Green Street Crew Street gang the Lost Kings does business with. Often referred to as "GSC."

LOKI Short for Lost Kings.

Vipers MC Rival and frequent enemy MC. Runs Ironworks which borders the Lost Kings Territory.

Wolf Knights MC Rival and sometimes ally of the Lost Kings.

Other MC Terminology.

Most terminology was obtained through research. However, I have also used some artistic license in applying these terms to my romanticized fictional version of an Outlaw Motorcycle Club.

Cage A car, truck, van, basically anything other than a motorcycle.

Church Club meetings all full patch members must attend. Led by the President of the club, but all officers will update the members on the areas they oversee.

Citizen Anyone not a hardcore biker or belonging to an outlaw club. "Citizen Wife" would refer to a spouse kept entirely separate from the club.

Club Mama A female that is property of all club members. Available to all club members, keeps the clubhouse clean, and meets any other needs a club member may have.

Cut Leather vest worn by outlaw bikers. Adorned with patches and artwork displaying the club's unique colors. The Lost Kings' colors are blue and gray. Their logo is a skull with a crown.

Colors The "uniform" of an outlaw motorcycle gang. A leather vest, with the three-piece club patch on the back, and various other patches relating to their role in the club. Colors belong to the club, and are held sacred by all members.

Fly Colors To ride on a motorcycle wearing colors.

Mother Chapter First chapter of the club.

Nomad A club member who does not belong to any specific charter, yet has privileges in all charters. Nomads go anywhere to take care of business usually at the request of the club president.

Old Lady Wife or steady girlfriend of a club member.

Patched in When a new member is approved for full membership.

Patch holder A member who has been vetted through performing duties for the club as a prospect and has earned his three-piece patch.

Prospect A prospective member of the club. The club needs to unanimously vote him in to become a full member.

Property Patch When a member takes a woman as his Old Lady (wife status), he gives her a vest with a property patch. "Property of Lost Kings MC" and the member's road name.

Pull a Train For a girl to have sex with each man in the club, any way he wants it, one after another.

Road Name Nick name. Usually given by the other members.

Run A club sanctioned outing sometimes with other chapters and/or clubs. Can also refer to a club business run.

Sweetbutt A girl who hangs out with the club and is always available for sex. Since my version is a "romantic" take on an MC, they are usually referred to as "club girls" but this term is used once or twice throughout.

Dedicated to those who've survived their scarred pasts and keep working to create a happy future.

Trinity Hurst.

That girl fucking owned me the minute I laid eyes on her. At twenty-one, she already had a cold, calculating wall around her. Porn star hair, angel eyes, beautiful cock-sucking lips. All of it smoothed into an innocent looking package. Well, to anyone else, she might appear pure and innocent. Not me.

She didn't act like any other club girl I'd ever met. Most of them kept their mouths shut and their legs open. She didn't take shit from anyone and made a guy work for every little smile she tossed his way. It was a unique talent that drove me fucking nuts. The walls she built up around herself were designed to keep guys like me away. Underneath her tough-girl exterior lay something sweet and vulnerable.

I had her first.

I fell in love with her.

Then we fucked everything up.

Eight years ago A zap of electricity shot through me when the blonde beauty behind the bar turned her head my way. How the hell was this chick planning to keep the peace at the Blue Fox Tavern?

As long as we all behaved, the bar allowed everyone to wear their MC's colors. But it was still a biker bar. If things got out of hand, I didn't have much confidence the little cutie would be able to do much. Girl was gonna get hurt.

Once I got over the shock of seeing the new bartender, I slipped my don't-give-a-fuck face back on. My brothers, Rock and Zero, were right behind me. Brothers by choice. As in we belonged to the same MC. But to me, the bond we shared flowed deeper than any blood relation.

The three of us sat at the bar. The sweet, bubbly demeanor the girl approached us with was completely out of place in the seedy hangout. The way her eyes roamed over us, assessing the level of danger we posed, made me rethink my first impression.

"Hey, guys. What can I get you?"

Her gaze skipped to our cuts and zeroed in on each of our patches. She looked me over last, and holy fuck, when our eyes met, my dick perked right up. For just a second, the hard, calculating gleam in her eyes softened into something vulnerable.

The moment passed, and she swung her gaze back to Rock, whose patch read President.

"Scotch neat, please, sweetheart," he answered. His eyes were busy assessing her as well, but I didn't get the feeling he wanted to take her in the back room and fuck her like he did with just about every other chick he met.

As the vice president, she took Z's order next. Finally, she returned to me.

"Sergeant-at-arms, huh? The Wrecking Ball."

A slow grin spread across my face. I liked her. "I've been called worse."

"I'm sure you have. What would you like?"

I wanted her, spread out on the bar in front of me. "Jack Daniels, neat," I answered.

The three of us were silent while we watched her work. Slapping the drinks down with a tired smile, she glanced at the clock. She turned back to us and cocked her head, checking out our officer patches again.

"You have a shakeup in leadership? Your patches are so squeaky clean," she teased in a husky voice.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Rock asked.

A short, excessively curvy brunette jiggled into the space behind the bar and yelped, "Trinity! I'm so sorry I'm late!"

The loud chick had herself stuffed into some sort of hot-pink tube top thing that didn't flatter her as much as she probably thought.

"It's okay, Storm," the blonde answered, even though her expression said otherwise.

Storm? Aw, fuck.

As if she heard my thought, Storm turned her big, brown, doe-eyed gaze our way and shrieked.

"Oh, Trinity! These are the guys I was telling you about." She yanked the blonde over to us by the elbow. Her hungry gaze zeroed in on Z right away, which was unfortunate for her because he was strictly hit-it-and-quit-it.

The few times we'd met her, Rock and I had picked up a definite undercurrent of desperation with this broad. Even though we let her party at our clubhouse, we'd both been smart enough to steer clear of her bear-trap pussy.

Trinity seemed less than impressed. I wondered what sort of stories Storm had been spinning about us.

"Can I stop by after work, guys?" Storm asked.

Rock answered quick. "No. There'll be a full house tomorrow. Stop by then, hon."

Her face fell, then brightened at the invitation. I glanced down the bar at Z, who looked ready to choke our prez. I couldn't wait to give him shit later.

I finished my drink and got up to take a walk around the place. Rock's meeting was with a crew we hadn't established a lot of trust with yet. My job was to check things out before they got here. Keep the place secure. Make sure nothing happened to my president.

Back corner booth. That was where the meeting needed to go down. As I pulled a chair over, a breathy voice behind me called out, "Hold on. I haven't cleaned that yet."

Trinity rushed over with a rag and wiped the most recent stickiness from the tabletop. I'm only human, so while she was busy cleaning, I checked out her pleasantly round ass. My fingers flexed as I imagined how perfectly her cheeks would fit my hands. For a biker chick, she was awfully conservative. I spotted what looked like two tank tops. Black on top, bright pink underneath. No thong or tramp stamp peeking out when she bent over-I think I liked that part most.

She finished and spun around. Too bad my eyes were slow to react. She definitely caught me checking out her ass. I wasn't ashamed, though, because shame's never been an emotion I wasted my time on. Besides, now my gaze was fixed on something even more exciting-her tits all pushed up and spilling out of her shirt.

It was difficult, but I looked up into her honey-colored eyes. How had I missed that color before? Or was it just the strange amber lighting we were standing under in the otherwise dark corner? "Is Trinity a road name or your legal one?"

"Real. My mother had me during her Catholic phase."

I snorted a laugh. "How's that working out for you?"