Page 2

Three years later

“ W ow, this is awesome. I really like how you expanded on the suggestions I gave you and it doesn’t feel like a cage.” Wendi smiles back at me for a second before her attention is pulled to the area we built for our newest hounds.

I stifle my laugh even though I can’t help but love the irony. Hounds of the Reaper MC never had actual hounds on the property till now. After over seventy years, we finally have mutts. Cute ones at that, but I’d rather feed the dogs my left nut than admit it to my brothers. I’m the president of the goddamn club. Can’t be showing that soft side to just anyone.

Not that I don’t trust my brothers, but I’d still rather most of them see me as rough on the outside and inside and reserve that special part for someone unique, whenever they decide to come along. Which might be sooner than later if the vamps have a say.

Damn, club whores were always there before. Even as just a patched member, before I even became an officer and the club’s enforcer, they were willing and available. But I swear to Christ, the second I got voted in as president, they took a damn Viagra mind pill, and each is trying to outdo themselves to get into the number one spot. Not sure if they get it or not, but having a girl who half the damn club has tasted be my old lady ain’t my idea of a good match. No shame to the vamps—they’re here for a reason, but it ain’t for long term.

Girls like that don’t hang at the clubhouse. Long term usually has hopes and dreams outside the rough-and-tumble. Then again, the old ladies the Hounds have caught lately all seem to be accustomed to the shadier side of life and don’t seem to mind embracing it as long as they can keep their man.

I shake my head at my thoughts. Fuck. There I go bashing on the job. Fucking asshole I am.

I want this job. I’ve always wanted it. But I never expected I would get it this way. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Law was meant to ease me into this role when the time came. We all knew the VP, Bulldog, never wanted to go higher than his current role. We all accepted it, and the rumor mill always debated who was going to be the next in line. Sure, I spoke up if asked about it, but it was just between me and Law, never something I told my brothers. I never wanted it out there to us into the worst-case scenario.

Like what happened. One minute Law was there, the next he was gone, and the boys had to act. A club like ours, the mother chapter that has both international and national sister clubs with more enemies than not, doesn’t sit without a king on the throne. The club voted, and I was more shocked than anyone when I got called to step in. A position I was happy to have but still fearful of.

I’m not an idiot. I know new leadership ain’t a walk in the park, even when a group knows and likes the new man in charge. Things are pushed and tried more often. I get it. And I’m doing my best, but I still feel like I’m losing a battle I’m not prepared to fight.

I underwent sniper training. Gathered intel, observed, and made the call. I can see the big picture and the small one. But even then, I was only as good as the intel. The club has been facing significant intel issues. Ain’t no one’s fault. Shit happens. We assess, adjust, and plan, but each breach was not something we saw coming.

Jesus, I need to fucking grow some balls or call myself a pussy. I might have taken on the role as president, but I sure as shit ain’t acting like it in my own damn head. I know I’m putting on a front right now. Hell, half the damn club knows to. Time is what I need. Time to get used to shit, time to heal from wounds that got the club to this point, and time to just settle in.

I take a deep breath, pulling in all the bullshit I’ve put on myself, and let it go. Just let it all fucking go. At least for tonight. The club is together, the brothers back from fighting the fucking mob, and we even have a new brother to welcome into the fold. We’ve got reasons to celebrate. And one of them is standing right next to me.

Wendi the vet.

I smile to myself as I think about the first time we met. The greeting lacked a social quality—unless you think a gun being forced in your face while demands and threats are made is a way of saying hi.

That night, man, she was something else. All spitfire and sass. Made me stand up straight, and my cock sure as hell noticed her too. She was sharp, witty, and fuck if she didn’t hand me my balls on her operating table. She took no shit, and I found that hot as hell.

But since then? I’ll admit that we’ve had little interaction, maybe a handful at that. And each was limited timewise but also lackluster. Not sure if it’s because I’ve only seen her in the daytime, or that I haven’t threatened to kill her sister again, but the sass she once voiced seems contained. It’s not nonexistent, though. I see the spark in her eyes, and she makes enough small comments to let me know I didn’t dream her having it that one night. But she’s definitely hiding a part of herself.

I’m not just sure if I want to spend time figuring it out. Before I took over, maybe. I had the time then. Now? Time seems to be the one thing I don’t have.

“This is really great, Casper. The dogs are going to love it. You sure you just need two?”

She’s teasing me with the last part. When I first broached the subject that I wanted to buy one of her trained dogs, I said only one. Ten minutes later, I committed the club to two. And yeah, the place we set up might even be comfortable for four or five. Perhaps the club will handle more in the future, but for now, two will do. Not because they aren’t well-kept here. Nah, the boys fell in love with our German shepherds almost as quickly as I did. Got no doubt the club would vote on more. But we need to see if having guard dogs is worth the price. Damn things are expensive as shit. I’m waiting to make sure they’re worth every penny now that I’ve got to be responsible for that too.

“Two is fine. Richtofen and Galland will keep me and the boys plenty busy, I’m sure.”

I turn to walk away, and she falls in step, but I don’t lead her back to the clubhouse. Instead, we wander the club’s property. We have more space than most would assume since we usually keep our activities at the front of the property line with the clubhouse and garage repair shop we keep open for the public. But behind all that are a few acres of land that we keep clean while still letting nature take its course.

The former president’s old lady, Special K, even has a spot dedicated to her with a porch swing and twinkle lights. Not ashamed to say that the brothers and I have used it before for a hookup or two. Hell, I bet Special K is looking down each time we do, getting her own kicks out of her quiet space being used to light up like the Fourth of July in screams of passion.

“How did you become a vet?”

Anyone else might have missed the flinch my words cause. It’s subtle, almost unnoticeable, but I learned that reaction in my youth, and I never forgot it.

“Ah, you know. The same as everyone else, I guess.” She stops talking, and I use my favorite tactic—keeping my mouth shut. It’s surprising what a person will say to fill the awkward silence.

I’ll admit, this silence goes on longer than most do, and we share a few glances before she gives in.

With a shrug and a small smile that seems more sad than happy, she gives me a bit more. “Tried to save a baby bird when I was a kid. Didn’t work out so much. I didn’t want it to happen again, so I learned how to help.”

I nod, not that she can see my head as she keeps looking down at her feet, kicking at the dirt and branches as we walk.

“What about you?” She turns to look at me, and now it’s my turn to kick at the dirt. “Always aspired to be the big president for a biker gang?”

“Club,” I say automatically and see her cringe from the corner of my eye.

“Yeesh, sorry about that. I know you aren’t like a gang gang. It just slipped out. The only clubs I ever knew about were the ones for chess back in high school. No offense, but none of you seem to fit the bill of what those guys looked like.”

I huff a laugh at that. I know we’ve got enough smart brothers who would have ruled the chess club if given the opportunity, but yeah, none of them went out for it. Most of us are old enough to remember it wasn’t the “cool” thing to do, even if being a nerd seems to be the “in” thing now. Then again, what the hell do I know what kids think is in or out these days? I’m not on babysitting duty for the munchkins that some brothers have for a reason. I’m more likely to show them how to take out a threat twenty feet away than help them fit into a crowd. I’d rather observe from the outside than fit right in.

Law always said that was what made me perfect for the role as president. I’m close with the brothers but never cross that line that they couldn’t take an order if I gave one. Standing apart ain’t a bad thing in the club in some aspects.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re a civilian and really just now getting to know club life. Ain’t going to rip you a new one for a mistake we get all the time. But you make the same mistake six months from now, then we got to talk.”

“You expect me to be around for six months, huh?” She nudges me with her shoulder and skips a few steps ahead to sit on the swinging bench we made it to. I let her get there first, more so because she caught me off guard with that bit of sass that popped out. It’s rare, and each time she does it, I’m stunned enough to think that maybe she has a split personality like her sister.

Not that Penny is what I would call schizo, but there’s definitely something up with her. Wendi doesn’t talk about it, but Bulldog’s old lady thinks she’s on the spectrum of at least some type of autism disorder. It might explain the random thoughts that pop out of her mouth. Like when she accused me of killing puppies once when I told her we had hot dogs. Girl makes me cross-eyed for sure with her thoughts, but so do her outfits. Never met someone who wears a football helmet to ride in a car or combat boots with a tutu. Then again, if Bulldog’s kid, Princess, was ever to see her, I bet they would start a fashion trend. With Ruby following—Law’s daughter has made biker boots an attachment to her soul since she was born.

“So, what was it?”

I give her a smirk, leaning against the frame as she pushes herself on the swing. “Same as you. I wanted to save a bird.”

“Har har.” She rolls her eyes, and I have a sudden urge to grab her chin and force her to look at me. But I curb that side of me. I don’t normally let it out, and when I do, it’s with the understanding that I’m in complete control and the other is willing. I bet Wendi knows as much about the BDSM community as she does about biker gangs—not much.

I shrug, crossing my arms as I look out at the property that I can see from here. “I never saw the club life till I knew I wanted out of the military but not out of the brotherhood. Most of us who were in got recruited by someone who knew a guy who had an in. I only thought about being an officer when I saw some things I didn’t like seeing in the club. Wanted to make a change. When Law cleaned house a bit after some originals stepped out, those who stepped in saw a future and had a thought for what we wanted it to be.”

“So it was a bird.”

“In a way.”

The crickets chirping around us alert me that sunset is closer than I thought. I don’t mind the sound of nature; I encourage it. If you’re out long enough in it, you begin to tell the time by it before looking at a clock.

“Ever wonder if you made a mistake?”

I glance back and see her looking at me, her eyes soft.

“How so?”

She turns her attention to the brush in front of us. “Wanting to step in and save the world in a way, then finding yourself surrounded by more death than life?”

If she only knew. But I guess the life of a sniper and a vet are similar in a way. You save a life; you take a life. Sometimes you try to save one only to have it slip away.

“Sometimes.” I turn to face her, and she stops moving the swing. We’re close in height, but I still look down a bit on her as I lean over her and she looks up. “But then I remember that one bird saved is better than a life without trying.”

We’re so close. If I lean down just a bit and she pushes up, we could—

“Billy!”

I look back at the voice and see Abigail, a club family member, running toward us with urgency in her face. Something about it makes me stand tall, on high alert.

Who the fuck is Billy?

I turn to Wendi, who’s standing now, and watch the color drain from her face. “Shit.”

“Billy.” Abigail stops right in front of us. “Jack needs you.”

I look to Abigail, then to Wendi, confused as fuck. “Wait, I thought your name was Wendi. Who’s Jack?”

“Damnit.” Wendi runs her hands through her hair in distress. “Look, what we talked about just now? That was true. That was real. Don’t forget that.”

“What?” This one is acting as crazy as her sister.

Before I can question anything more, she grabs me and kisses the ever-loving fuck out of me. Best damn kiss of my life. Fucking fireworks are going off behind my eyes. I don’t even question it as I grab her tight around the back of her head and hold her there for a second longer before she pulls away and runs after Abigail, who’s already heading back toward the compound.

What the hell?