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Maybe Neil and I were supposed to burn hot and bright instead, like a shooting star. Hurtling through space at a million miles an hour. Destructive and explosive, but my God, we were glorious, breathtakingly passionate.

Despite my misgivings and resistance about club life, the Blackjacks ensured there was a seat at their table for me. Thesemen had protected me at Neil’s word. Looked after me and respected me, like Big G did.

Vlad, seated on my sister’s couch, could probably crush a human skull with his bare hands. Instead, he tucked my dozing nephew's delicate body into the crook of his arm, smoothing his big palm over Wylie’s tousled hair.

I’d been so focused on my dreams for a better future, that I never realized I was already surrounded by family. It wasn’t the sweet, idyllic family I’d envisioned for myself, the one I craved. It wouldn’t be a neat and tidy life with Neil either.

But it would be our life, our family—one we built together.

“Hey, honey,” Nathan said as he stepped into the house, a paper bag in one hand, a large bouquet of sunflowers in the other. “I stopped at the drug store on my way home. Picked up some pain relievers for Wylie, and some flowers for you—”

He broke off mid-sentence at the sight of Vlad seated on the couch.

“What the—?”

I took him by the elbow and steered him toward the kitchen.

“I have a lot of explaining to do,” I said, apologetically.

Twenty minutes later, Officer Shepard turned into the driveway. I waited for him on the porch, hoping to prevent him from having any reason to enter the house.

I hadn’t told Connie and Nathan everything—skipping details like the dead intruder and sex with Neil—but they knew enough to understand the necessity of Vlad’s presence now. Even though that didn’t put them at ease.

Officer Shepard climbed out of his car and opened the passenger door for me.

“Ready to get this over with?”

“You have no idea,” I replied.

“Have you had any trouble this morning?” He asked. “Threatening notes, phone calls…”

I thought of Vlad’s figure darkening Connie’s doorstep.

“No, nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Really?” Officer Shepard circled around to the driver’s side and turned the car onto the road. “The officer on duty reported a very large man knocked on your sister’s door about half an hour ago.”

I cleared my throat, brushing an invisible speck of dirt off the skirt I’d borrowed from Connie.

“Just a neighbor stopping by for coffee.”

A beat of silence filled the car.

“If there’s anything you’d like to tell me off the record, now is the time to do it,” Officer Shepard said.

“Like I said, there’s nothing to report, Officer.”

He sighed and shook his head.

“I could have your sister’s house searched,” he countered.

“On what grounds?”

“Suspicious activity. It’s a vague enough excuse to keep my options open.”

If he had any intention of doing that, he wouldn’t be tiptoeing around the subject now. Officer Shepard was purposefully not probing too deeply for fear of seeing something he’d have to cover up.

Neil had warned me many times before that bikers and cops weren’t friends. But on rare occasions, loopholes were developed, where paperwork disappeared and damning evidence went missing without a trace.