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Chapter One

Jax

Twelve years later…

T he flushing red glow of sunlight bleeding through my eyelids burned my vision. My slumber’s grip began to loosen, and I floated toward wakefulness. A slim crack in the curtains allowed the perpetrator to cut its light through the darkness. It was lined with accuracy into my sight and as my eyes crept open, I glared at the dust dancing in the morning’s light.

But that wasn’t the only reason I woke.

It probably had something more to do with the girl sucking on my dick like her favorite lollipop.

The soft, firm grip of her lips around my veined, pulsing shaft had a groan of approval squeezing out through my teeth. I wondered why hell had let this hot devil escape as she continued suckling hard, the soft, slurping noises filling the room. It wasn’t the most attractive thing, but I also couldn’t give a shit as she held firm to the base of me, her nails running through the rough, dark hair nestling between my thighs.

“Fuck,” I hissed, turning my head down to see the long, pale blonde hair in a ruffled mess around her neck, makeup smudged under her eyes as they gazed up with a husky darkness into mine. Her eyes dared me with rebellion, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“What are you girls doing?” I hummed, casting my eyes over to the smaller brunette’s hand as it reached down underneath the blonde and skimmed the softened skin beneath my sack. The tips of her nails brushed the surface and the scratch caused my dick to jump in the blonde’s mouth.

Her pupils widened.

“Nothing,” the brunette whispered, leaning down toward the dark trail of hair on my stomach and lathing her tongue against my ridged abs, tasting the sweat already beading over my skin. Her tongue traced the dark, thick lines of the bird tattoo I had done over a year ago, lips sucking its cracked, chipped beak.

“Nothing, huh?”

With a pop, the blonde took me from her lips, the cool air leaving a chill over my wet skin. “Just thought we’d give you a present,” she amended, moving to run the tip of her tongue on the underside. I moaned.

“Did I give you permission to touch me?” I growled.

Their eyes widened, not with shock at my attitude but with excitement. I could almost smell the wetness coming from them as they shifted their hips against the silk bedding.

“No,” the brunette whispered with a cracked purr, her body hesitant as it poised over my stomach, erect nipples grazing my skin as she saddled up next to the blonde.

“Then it’s time for punishment.” I sighed, as if it pained me to bring it up. It was the opposite.

Both girls’ chests began to rise and fall with quicker, jittering breaths. They moved without command, sitting back so their perky asses rested on their heels. Their soft thighs were pushed as tight together as those curves would allow, their nestled mounds cushioned snug between. They held both of their wrists up to me, pressed together, hands relaxed, unable to hide that slight tremor, not of fear but of excitement.

“Eyes closed,” I snapped, my hands clapping on the command.

They jolted. Even if I didn’t look, I knew they obeyed. Their eyes would be closed.

I turned to my wardrobe and allowed the doors to make an audible, slow creak as the old hinges swung the wooden panel open. The slow moment was like a drawn-out breath on skin, so intense it was almost a physical touch.

My eyes wandered over the many taut ropes held on their respective hooks. I yearned to use them, but…this was not the time. Not yet. These girls weren’t disobedient enough. There were very few that were.

Instead, my fingers reached without hesitation to the very tool I needed. My fingers stroked the hard shaft before grasping it tightly in my palm. I suppose I could have chosen one of a multitude of tools, but when retraining was needed, it was only natural that I would gravitate to this.

The black riding crop had my own breath hitching as the Italian leather sat as light as a feather in my palms. I almost didn’t want to use it; just looking at it was enough to satisfy me.

But a tool had a purpose, and without a purpose it would only be half of what it was created for.

“Now,” I breathed, turning on my heels to the two awaiting girls. I bounced the shaft in my hand and the end of the crop made a soft, painless slap across my palm. “Who’s getting punished first?”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I sighed just as the door swung open, interrupting my fun with an even less fun person filling its space.

The huge beast I knew as my best friend was swallowing the tiny space of the large doorway, his tight black shirt brushing the edges of the wood as he searched for my face among the dimly lit space of my room. He didn’t bother to scan through my room, not at the myriad of clothes scattered across the stained wood, the leather collection within my wardrobe, nor the two girls waiting on the bed.

He was such a bore nowadays. Still, I couldn’t resist.

“Finally tempted to stray?” I smirked, letting the crop graze subtly across the brunette’s chest. Her breath quickened.

Hunter’s expression didn’t change. “Downstairs. Now.”

The slam of the door punctuated his disappearance and the girls jumped at the sound.

A man of many words as always.

The sigh that followed the sound of the door came out with a heavy breath as I looked down at my pitifully hard shaft.

Guess it’ll have to wait.

I stretched my arms above my head, hearing a creak in my bones, and I looked to the ground for the jeans I had been wearing last night. When spotted, I lifted the pair from the floor and to my face. My nose wrinkled at the smell. I shrugged.

It’ll do.

It was then that I heard the silk sheets rustle as the blonde reached up to brush a hand through her hair.

Snap.

Her hands retreated to her chest, eyes still closed, but her expression was a complete contrast. Her mouth watered at the sting on her hand as her other one cradled it against her breasts, but her lips were lined with confusion.

“Don’t move,” I commanded, letting the crop slide underneath her chin. Her head tipped upward obediently, reluctant to let the feeling of the leather leave her skin. The crop paused just where her jaw bone ended. She gave the softest of nods.

“Use your words.”

Her tongue darted out to smooth the saliva beginning to drip from the side of her pink lips, and with a deep swallow, she breathed, “Yes, sir.”

Much better.

I let the crop slowly travel back down her jaw, allowed her to lower her head. But I didn’t stop there. One warning would not be enough for these girls. I let the crop roll down the valley between the blonde’s breasts, watching her nipples harden into sharp nubs through the thin silk material of her bra, and followed the ridge of her ribs, her stomach, and midriff before it came to the smooth skin leading into the gap between her thighs. She probably had a matching pair of panties last night, but I knew I had made quick work of them at the end of the party.

“Not even a muscle.” I tapped the crop against the top of her mound and her stomach jerked. “Both of you.”

“Yes, sir,” the girls said in simultaneous rhythm, and fuck, they needed to be rewarded for such good behavior… but not right now.

I nodded but didn’t give them any affirmation as I tugged on my pair of jeans, not bothering to look for underwear since my aching dick would never be able to fit into them, then donned the last shirt on top of the cupboard from the diminishing clean pile. My cut was carefully hung up on the back of my door, and I took that too before putting my crop carefully on top of the wardrobe. Heading out the door, I left it ajar just in case another brother wanted a peek at my artwork.

Time to find out what this shit was about.

* * *

Q uiet steps marked my arrival into the club’s main room, my heavy boots making a softened thump as I finished the last step. The lack of an echo and a creak made me feel a little lonely as I set my eyes on the newly refurbished room, which had to be done after an enemy gang had gunned the shit out of it. But still….

I had become so accustomed to the smell of whiskey, sex, and sweat embedded into every piece of furniture, along with the knife marks and gun holes decorating the wall and the creak of a hardwood floor, that the new space made me feel strange. The smell of new was not on my list of favorite scents. I preferred something a little more aged… something with a little more character.

It wasn’t as noticeable when my brothers filled the room, the character and age almost overwhelming by the dinosaurs themselves, but when there was only Hunter awaiting my arrival in the spacious hall, the effect was strong.

I ran a hand through my hair, pushing the growing length out of my face as I approached my closest brother waiting by the bar. I had been meaning to have it cut for a while, having no plans to join Hunter and Wolf in the ponytail club. Wolf’s had become so biker cliché that it attracted the spectrum of looks from everyone no matter where he went. I couldn’t be bothered with that. “So where is everybody?” I grumbled.

“Not here,” Hunter grunted.

“Well, I could figure that out, you ass.” I rolled my eyes. “Sarcasm is only cute on pint-sized blondes and redheads, not on six-foot and above brunettes.”

Hunter rolled his eyes.

“They’re outside in the parking lot.” He extended a large hand, and in it was a shot of strong whiskey. One of my favorite kinds of flavored water we kept behind the bar. None of it influenced me like my moonshine did, though rumors were reaching ears we didn’t need listening, so illegal liquor was out of the question for now. Until then there was little I could do but drink what was offered.

What I could do, however, was give Hunter the most suspicious look I could muster. “ Why?”

I couldn’t besure what he read from my face, but his own frown didn’t change. “You’ll need it.”

His huge hand didn’t give me a chance to refuse as he shoved the thing at me, the liquid almost coming over the side of the glass. “It’s a bit early to party, isn’t it, brother?”

I glanced at the clock. 11 a.m. Not the earliest I’ve started to drink, but for everyone else? It would be considered the early hours of the morning.

“You won’t be partying.” Hunter gave me the final parting words before he turned away from me, showing me his huge, broad back and black curled hair before he headed outside. Bright light cut through the club as he disappeared through the door, a buzz from the outside sneaking in as well. When Hunter said they were outside, I thought he meant every single member of the Black Angels if the sound was anything to go by.

What the hell is going on?

I chucked the liquid from the glass down my throat and headed to the door.

Better get this shit over and done with.

I didn’t like the echo of my boots following close behind me as I headed toward the door, the normally short stretch to the front feeling longer than ever as caution carried with me.

I pushed the emergency bar, the metallic exit door swinging open as Oregon’s humid weather hit me hard. Summer burned my eyes as I adjusted to the bright light and buzzing noise filling the car lot.

The noise was the ruckus every single member of our club was making as they lined the outside wall, gossip and excitement rushing through all the women and even some of the men.

I felt my stomach drop as I recalled the one and only thing that got all the women to collectively do something without bitching, bribery, or blackmail.

Drama.

“I’m getting a bad feeling…”

Pretty, my other closest brother in the club, appeared by my side with perfect timing. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, while handing me a bottle of beer. It had lost its fresh-fridge chill but hadn’t yet reached the lukewarmth that made it gross and undrinkable.

“If it were just the women out here, it wouldn’t be so bad.” His blue-grey eyes creased in amusement as he gestured over my shoulder. “But Lamb’s over there too.”

“Fuck,” I hissed. “That bastards here too?”

I spun on my heels, spotting the spiked blonde hair and silk suit several members down beside our president. If Wolf was the stereotype for bikers, Lamb was the exact opposite. Only a bit taller than me, his slim figure was miles smaller than anybody else’s at the club, though that didn’t mean he was lacking muscle. He was a good brother, but his personality was nasty, and the bastard just loved pissing everybody off. He hadn’t been around for a while, escaping on who-knew-what business any time he had the chance. I had a feeling Wolf knew exactly what Lamb was up to, but when he didn’t mention it, neither did anybody else. Everyone’s business was their own.

One thing I did know was that when Lamb appeared, something emotionally traumatic was bound to happen.

“Don’t overthink it,” another familiar voice cropped up between me and Pretty. I looked down— way down— to see one of my beloved pint-sized blondes wedging her way in next to me.

“Anna,” I purred, “since when do I overthink anything?”

“Ha,” Anna scoffed, readjusting the chubby baby boy in her arms, dead asleep with a powerful grip on the front of her shirt, giving me a peak to her post-baby boobs. Good boy. “You don’t think in general; it’s probably why this has happened.”

“Are you all going to speak ambiguously, or are you going to tell me why I was called out here?”

“There’s somebo—” Anna stopped without warning, at last noticing his hand on her shirt.

“Oh, you little— Stop wrecking my shirts!” She hissed, making the boy giggle with laughter. Looked like someone wasn’t as dead asleep as he was pretending to be. The boy wasn’t even three months old and he was showing natural aptitude for his mother’s devious nature.

“You and your father are going to be the end of me.”

“That’s our privilege,” Wolf’s deep baritone came from above my head as he stepped around me. The almost seven-foot hulk of a man reached down to his small woman, plucking his son of out her arms and pressing a kiss to her head. The baby, who seemed massive in Anna’s small embrace, now looked like a pea wrapped in Wolf’s monstrous forearms.

“There’s somebody at the gate for you.” Wolf looked at me, annoyance clear in his voice. “Go sort it out so we can all go inside.”

I looked to the men, and aside from Lamb, they all looked uninterested in my mysterious visitor. From a couple glares I was being sent, I had no doubt they had been dragged out by the women and their old ladies.

Men may rule this club, but women rule the men.

“Who is it?” I asked, finishing off my beer and passing the empty bottle to Anna, who uncharacteristically accepted it without argument. Any other day she would have bitten my head off for giving her my trash.

“How the fuck should I know?” Wolf grumbled, freeing an arm to give me a shove in the back. I surged forward with his beastly strength, almost falling over my own two feet.

“Get moving,” he commanded.

“Bastard,” I grumbled, catching my balance as I began walking across the concrete car lot.

On my approach, I saw Mint lean into the cabin of the old blue truck, point into the parking lot, and then signal to Pipe to open the gate. He stepped back as the truck started up, making any brother that knew anything about cars (which were most of them) wince as it screeched into Black Angel territory.

The parking lot was big enough for at most twenty cars when it was empty, ten if our bikes were parked along the front like they were today. A 60s Chevrolet flat-bedded truck and bumper-pull horse trailer attached to the back caught everybody’s attention.

Mint, the second person least likely to give a shit about a woman asking after me, walked up as the truck pulled into one of the bays at the furthest end. “Said she’s here for you,” he relayed, his voice just as annoyed as Wolf’s was.

As I ambled over to the parked truck, looking over the unmarked horse trailer, I searched back through my past seven years’ worth of memories at the club, wondering what kind of woman it could be.

If I were being honest, it was difficult to tell one woman from the other. But out of all the women I could think of, none of them would have any reason to have a horse trailer tied to the back of her truck.

My curiosity grew, and my heart jumped at the sound of the truck door creaking open. I expected the whole thing to just fall off as the girl stepped out.

Brown hair, tight ass, and long, long legs. They had my dick perking back up in my jeans for the first time since I left my room, and I was left wondering what treasure I had lured in. She wasn’t exactly my usual type, coveting girls with fuckable tits and blonde hair. Every guy made an exception every now and then and looking at her athletic body made me ready to make that exception—possibly the second time, if between her legs was really where she knew me from.

Her long hair caught the breeze, and although it wasn’t silky soft and seemed to have more sun damage from being outside in hot weather, it looked well-cared for and healthy. If her tanned hips told me anything—from under the shirt that seemed to have risen while driving—she spent a great deal of time outdoors. Tugging it back down as she turned around, I almost sighed in disappointment as the plaid shirt covered my gazing eyes, then I noticed the tight jeans that hugged those long thighs. Damn, if her legs were that nice, then her chest must be….

Not as big as I expected. It was on the smaller side, but they looked like a nice handful, nonetheless. Maybe having a squeeze of them would make me remember.

A glimpse of light caught my eyes as I spotted the jewelry around her neck. I didn’t realize what it was at first. A circle? A letter?

It was a horseshoe.

A silver horseshoe.

I stopped dead it my tracks. I recognized that necklace.

My mind froze, eyes pinned to that little piece of silver resting on the dip of her collarbone.

I couldn’t think.

No, I didn’t want to think.

I knew who that shoe belonged to. I looked up, hoping I was wrong. It couldn’t be her. Never her.

I was stunned. Staring at the face I recognized, the face that mirrored my stunned recognition.

It was her.

“ Ronnie?”

She staggered as our eyes met, the sound of her boots shuffling back and her dark green eyes becoming ringed with pure white surprise. “ Jackson?”

She said that name on a breath of what could only have been a mix of relief and surprise. I almost hadn’t recognized the voice. Didn’t recognize her.

She changed. The new curves, boobs, and the extra inches of leg had thrown me, and it had thrown me hard. The understated way she was dressed, in well-cared for jeans and the plaid shirt newly tucked into her waist band despite the heat. The material that clung to her chest pronounced the handful breasts I’d taken notice of earlier. But it was her face that had changed the most. The soft curved edges that had once defined her youth were now lost to a sharper, defined structure.

Her red-flushed cheeks carrying her familiar green eyes studied every inch of me; she was taking me in too.

I must have changed a lot in her eyes since the last time we met.

But my opinion of her hadn’t.

“ Leave.”

The word was filled with rage. It rode on a wave of pure hot lava up my throat, as if the volcano of emotions that had been dormant for eight long years was now alive again, and thundered destruction in its wake. “Get back in your truck and get the fuck off of my compound and out of my town.”

Ronnie stuttered. I wanted her eyes to turn to stone, for her to pluck up her stubbornness and leave. But it was hurt in her green eyes, the glint of the sunlight rimming on the water swelling across them. It only fueled the burn inside.

Does she really think she can come back to me after all this time and expect me to play nice? After what she did?

“But—”

“Get out.”

“Jackson, I—”

“I don’t care,” I hissed, shaking my head, lips snarling. “Whatever the fuck it is that you’ve come here for, I don’t care. Now go.”

Ronnie’s pained eyes searched for any indication that I was lying. Like she didn’t expect me to be this harsh to her. The longer she looked at me, the quicker I saw her getting the picture; I meant my words.

Then her eyes dropped from mine, her dark hair casting a shadow over her eyes, and a shaking breath left her lips. There was a moment of silence, enough for me to hear the faint rustle of the club behind me, realizing they were still there. I had all but forgotten about them while facing the human representative of the past I never wanted to remember, all the memories hitting me like a sledgehammer to the chest.

I heard the scrape of her boot against the ground and looked up, ready to see her get into her truck and go straight back to the hellhole I had long since left behind. I saw her shoulders square and her face turn to mine. My stomach dropped.

I knew that look.

“No.”

My chest rumbled. It was a dark, guttural sound, and I could taste the ugliness of it at the back of my throat.

How dare she argue with me?

“If you don’t leave now, you’ll make me do something I can assure you I won’t regret.” I growled, taking a long, threatening step toward her.

My shadow cut across her face, and the glint of her eyes widened as she took in my huge form. She retreated a slow, safe step back into the sunlight. Her expression didn’t falter.

“I can’t leave.” Ronnie shook her head, brown hair clinging to the sweat trickling down the sides of her cheeks. “Not yet.”

“I have nothing to give you,” I yelled, the noise loud and startling as my arms swung out beside me, exposing all of me to her. “I have nothing left for you, Ronnie. Not for you.”

She flinched and just for a moment, for a split second, her bravado faltered. The emotion bubbled forth, but she caught it before it manifested. Whether it was hurt, pain, or anger, I didn’t care and would never know as a carefully constructed mask hardened her features. “I’m not here for me,” she whispered, so slight I almost missed it. But what I didn’t miss, what I couldn’t miss, was her hand reaching up and flattening her palm against the hot metal towed behind the back of her truck.

It was the second time it had caught my attention. I didn’t just give it a passing glance this time, however. I really and truly looked at it.

That’s why.

The gesture was small, but I knew what it meant. I knew what she was truly asking of me. Knew it, because it was the same question I had spent half of my lifetime answering no matter who had called. And the same question I had spent the last eight years of my life trying to forget. It was a part of the past that I left behind, and one of the many things I had long since accepted I would never do again.

I felt my muscles tighten over my chest, my ribs suffocating under the strain, and my heart throbbing hard on the other side. It was as if my body were building a wall, trying desperately to stop the feelings welling up from the sight of that big metal box.

I turned my back on this, and I never wanted to face anything like this again. I couldn’t go back to that life. Not after everything I had sacrificed for the happiness I have now.

“No,” I breathed, voice tight and graveled. “I don’t do that. Not anymore.”

“ Please, ” Ronnie pleaded. Her desperate and genuine emotion was like a gushing wave, slamming into me with a force that I was sure would knock me off my feet. She stepped forward, her hands tugging on the collar of her shirt. The material strained underneath, as if it were the only thing stopping her hands from reaching out to me. “Please, Jackson. I need your help.”

“No.” I retreated a step back. I knew the rage and betrayal still sat inside of me, but knowing what she was asking, knowing what she wanted was like adding fuel to the fire as memories of the past began to burn up inside of me. “Go somewhere else.”

“There is nowhere else!” Ronnie cried, the tears that had once brimmed her eyes were now falling, one after another down her olive skin. “I’ve been everywhere else. Do you think I wanted to come here to you? Do you think I wanted to travel all the way to find you? Do you think I would want to, when I know I’m the last person you want to see in the world?” Ronnie’s head dropped, her hair, dark and flowing, fell like a grieving veil over her face. “I know you hate me, Jackson...,” she whispered, voice soft and tired. “I’m not blind, nor have I forgotten what happened between us.”

She turned to the trailer, her hand reaching up and flattening against the sun-warmed metal, eyes gentle as if she could see inside. “Please help her.”

I stared at her, the long-limbed woman who was the core representation of my past, and to the trailer that used to define everything I was. I could feel the old urges surfacing, telling me exactly what I wanted to do. But I couldn’t listen to them. I knew exactly what kind of rabbit hole I was standing on the edge of. It would only take one step to fall.

“No.”

“ Jackson! ” Ronnie cried, voice breaking. “They’ll put her down if you do nothing!”

“Ronnie—” I growled, my stubbornness trying to hold firm.

“Just a look,” Ronnie pleaded. “If you say she can’t be helped, then I’ll accept it. If you say it’s over, then it’s over. And if you do say it’s over then….” I saw her bottom lip tremble as she looked to the ground, the words left hanging in the air like a sucker-punch to the stomach. Her other hand tightened on her collar until her knuckles went white, but it couldn’t hide the shaking rippling over her shirt. “If it’s over…,” she whispered, “…then I’ll do what needs to be done myself.”

I looked down at her, this woman I no longer recognized, and for a moment, I was taken back. Back to when I could see the girl I used to know standing in front of me, the same stubborn tears filling those prideful and compassionate green eyes. And for just a second, I saw the same eyes staring back at me in the present.

Even with all the pain and darkness I harbored deep down inside, and the anger that had only temporarily subsided, I knew what was about to happen. The same thing that had always happened whenever she had asked me for help.

Down the rabbit hole I go.

“ One look,” I caved, the words escaping on a breath I had been holding since long before I became a Black Angel.

Ronnie’s gasp stumbled out of her mouth—out of relief or surprise, I didn’t know.

Her trembling lip and her tear-filled eyes looked up to me and I turned away, unable to face the gratitude circling within them.

Ronnie worked fast, unwilling to provide me the opportunity to rescind my offer as she climbed onto the back of the trailer. I waited, watching her undo the latch with a soft firm grip. She didn’t make a sound as she lowered down the tongue of the trailer, letting it drop onto the pavement with tiniest of clinks. She flicked a few more small latches and secured any loose ropes until only the gate separated her and the dark shadow inside.

Through the glimpses of sliced light cutting through the slats in the far end of the trailer, tragic pain filled my chest as I saw the familiar brown fur. It had been a long time since I’d seen her, and although I wished it was a different horse, I also hadn’t expected any other.

Ronnie became even more quiet. She pulled back the gate in a smooth steady motion and secured it to the outside of the trailer. Stepping back up next to the ramp, she reached in for the leading rein, loosening it from the bar with slow, cautious movements. Her eyes flickered back and forth to the large animal beside her, standing with an eerie stillness as Ronnie backed out of the trailer one step at a time.

Even the crowd still standing by the door seemed to have quieted under the atmosphere.

Ronnie allowed slack on the rope to punctuate her every step until she stopped with the length of rope in her small, calloused hands at the bottom of the ramp, a safe distance from the horse.

I didn’t miss a single thing and could feel the frown already fixed on my face. Ronnie glanced over her shoulder, catching my expression. Her eyes turned down and away, the pain and shame radiating from her like a rain cloud hanging above her head. It made my hands tighten at my sides.

I knew this horse. She was a seal brown thoroughbred called Max, and she was Ronnie’s best friend. At the beginning, Max was a strong horse and had a rebellious nature, so much so she couldn’t even be considered for a race horse. B ut Ronnie fought in her corner and ended up keeping her for herself despite Max’s difficulty. Even when I advised the brat against it, Ronnie hadn’t listened to me. She was stubborn and bullheaded as always, and every step of the way Ronnie had been determined to train Max. The road was long and difficult, but the bond the two built became unbreakable. Ronnie loved Max and Max loved her.

When I saw Ronnie creep into the trailer, I knew something was very, very wrong.

I saw her chest rise with a deep breath and shaking hands trying to still before she began to pull at the rope. Max’s head got a slight tug in our direction.

That was all it took.

Max bucked against its side and the trailer let out a horrifying screech. She crashed against it left and right, and I heard the shouts of surprise of the club members behind me. At the sound of danger, the men were yelling and dragging the screaming kids and startled women inside.

I spun back to Ronnie, only to see her desperately fighting with the rope as the large animal bucked, kicked, and slammed into the edges of the trailer without care of the pain it was inflicting on itself.

This situation is getting out of hand.

Max gave a terrified shriek, her hind crashing against the wall of the trailer, causing a cry of metal as the trailer nearly tipped onto one side. It slammed back to the concrete with a resounding bang, and the jerking motion did the trick.

Max was free.

I didn’t even think as I lunged for Ronnie, grabbing the rope straight out of her hands, shoving her out the way and behind me just as the horse jolted out of the trailer. Max bolted across the lot, gaining speed as the slack of the rope was eaten by the distance in less than a second.

The rope gave a mighty snap and it was the only warning I got before I was pulled forward after her. The concrete came up in front of my face. I was about to get a mouthful of blood, teeth, and grit had my timeless instincts not kicked in.

Ronnie’s warning cry was late. I shoved my feet out in front of me; my spine straightened and threw my center of gravity away from Max’s direction. My boots hit the concrete, and burning rubber filled my nose as I was dragged on behind her.

For a second, my resistant soles slowed her run and the slightest bit of slack was gifted back to me. I took the opportunity and wound the rope around my forearms as fast as I could and adjusted my weight back.

She pulled. Hard.

The rope dug into my skin and tightened around it stronger than any snake, and I couldn’t help the loud roar of pain through gritted teeth.

Max’s fight didn’t wane at my bellow. She bucked and shrieked before bolting again. I held onto the rope, held my ground, and held onto any sense of reason I could, as Max tried to drag me like a rag doll.

I realized too late that I hadn’t pulled the rope in close enough. This wasn’t the wide fields of Texas, and as my eyes flew to a new Jeep positioned in Max’s panicked path, I braced.

Crunching metal, shattering glass, and Max’s shocked shriek shook the air. The vehicle jerked a few feet to the side with a screech and Max’s body slumped into the bending metal.

The large collision did nothing to snap Max free of her blind panic. She stumbled to her feet and jerked forward against the rope. I countered it, using my weight to pull her back into line. She raced forward and I saw Ronnie jump back into the trailer and out of the way as Max headed toward it.

I wrapped the rope round my waist and leaned back even further, pulling Max back enough that she didn’t trip over the ramp. I let her run, fast and with all her might around in a circle, roping her in bit by bit until she was close enough that she couldn’t reach any more cars. I turned with her, leaning my weight into the rope around my back until I felt it begin to wane.

Max’s weighted pull on the rope slowed, and her exhaustion set in.

Twenty minutes later, her legs shook so much they were barely holding her up. Hoarse, grated breaths heaved in and out her mouth, her eyes lowered and head hanging to the ground. All her energy had been used up.

I hissed and let the rope slacken from behind my back, then unwound it from my forearm. A fresh, throbbing wound stung at the touch of air as a trail of blood trickled over my tattoos where my skin had torn.

Ignoring that pain for now, I focused my attention on wrapping a quick Honda knot at my end of the rope before giving a small, steady pull, bringing Max about eight feet from me at the center of the circle, but it was more than close enough.

Using my good arm, I swung the lasso in the air and released it as naturally as one might toss a horseshoe. But unlike others, I never missed, and the rope cleared Max’s long face and slipped down her broad, sweat-dampened neck. She stiffened as it sunk down onto her shoulders but otherwise didn’t have the energy to fight it.

I kept it loose as I walked her back near the club house. I led her up next to the wall with me on the other side of her, and when I reached the end, I turned and walked back up the length again. Both of us regaining our lost air and resting our tired muscles.

It was there, as I calmly watched her move up and down one side, that I looked at her condition. This close, I could see the scars that her dark hair had hidden, an arc of jagged, angry marks over her rump that dragged down to her thigh.

Animal attack.

It was likely to have been some variation of cougar or bobcat or one of the other breeds of wild beasts that lived in the area surrounding the ranches Max lived on.

I sighed with defeat in my chest and soul as I walked Max back from the wall and across the car lot.

Ronnie stood in silence by the trailer, dry tear tracks on her cheeks, fresh ones filling her eyes. I saw her biting down on her lip, her shoulders tucked into her chest. She was bracing herself.

I took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”

Ronnie’s heart was written across her face as it flooded with relief. She bent over like she’d been punched in her stomach, her breathing stuttering in and out of her. When she looked back up to me, she was crying.

“Thank yo—”

“Not for you,” I interrupted. “I’ll help. But I’m not doing it for you.”

Whatever reaction Ronnie had disappeared as her walls came up. She knew where I stood. This wasn’t a start over for us or a chance. This was just a business deal.

Like every time I’d done this before, I would do it for the horse. For the creature that needed my help when everyone else refused. Because I was Max’s chance for a happy life. A happy life I could give back to her.

But not one I was offering to Ronnie.

Her chance had long passed.

Ronnie took a deep breath and dried her tears. She looked to Max and then to me. She swallowed, cleared her throat and with a clear voice, she said simply, “Okay.”