CHAPTER THREE
Aggie
I stare at my reflection in the mirror, my bleached blonde hair a stark contrast against the deep maroon v-neck t-shirt I've just pulled on.
It sort of matches my roots though, and I like the way it looks.
My emerald eyes, a reminder of the Scottish blood running through my veins, look back at me with a mix of excitement and anxiety.
Today’s a big day.
It’s Labor Day, and the local charter is throwing a party.
It's a chance to reconnect with the world I've been trying to distance myself from since starting college.
"Ye got this, Aggie," I mutter to myself, my Scottish lilt more pronounced in the privacy of my room. "It's just a party, for Christ's sake."
But even as I say the words, I know it's more than that.
It's a step back into a life I've been trying to leave behind, a world of danger, steam, and pure thrill that's as familiar to me as breathing.
I shimmy into a pair of skin-tight jeans, admiring how they hug my curves.
The leather boots come next, their familiar weight grounding me.
As I zip them up, I can't help but think of all the times I've worn similar boots, running around the clubhouse in Montana as a wee lass.
Granted, I didn’t look nearly as hot back then when I was a teenager with cystic acne breakouts.
"Focus, ye numpty," I chide myself, shaking off the nostalgia. "Ye're not that wee girl anymore."
The leather jacket is the final piece, and as I shrug it on, I feel like I'm donning armor.
It's silly, really.
These people are practically family, even if I haven't seen most of them in years.
But there's a part of me that feels like I need protection, not from them, but from the memories and emotions that are sure to come flooding back.
I grab my phone, checking the time.
Uber should be here any minute.
As I wait, I find myself pacing, my boots clicking against the hardwood floor of the room I share with Sienna.
"It's just a party," I repeat, trying to calm my nerves. "Just a bunch of old friends and family having a good time."
But even as I say it, I know it's a lie.
Nothing is ever 'just' anything when it comes to the MC.
Every gathering, every party, every seemingly innocent event could be the prelude to something bigger, something dangerous.
My phone buzzes, startling me out of my thoughts.
Uber's here.
"Right then," I mutter, grabbing my keys and heading for the door. "Time to face the music."
The ride to the clubhouse is a blur of neon lights and late-night traffic, until there’s hardly any street lights.
Las Vegas never sleeps, and even though it's been months since I moved here for college, I'm still not used to the constant buzz of energy that radiates through the city.
As we pull up to the gates of the clubhouse, I feel a familiar tightening in my chest.
The sound of motorcycles and music drifts through the chain link fence surrounding the perimeter of the property, a siren song calling me back to a life I thought I'd left behind.
"Thanks," I tell the driver, my voice steadier than I feel as I climb out of the car.
The gate looms before me, a barrier between two worlds—the normal, civilian life I've been trying to build, and the wild, dangerous world of the MC.
For a moment, I consider turning back, telling the Uber driver to take me back to the sorority house.
But then I see a familiar face behind the gate, and the decision is made for me.
"Well, I'll be damned," Shiver calls out, his gravelly voice carrying easily over the din. "I still find it hard to believe you, little shitstain, are all grown up."
I can't help but smile at the old nickname. "That's what happens when time passes, Shiver," I call back, approaching the gate.
He looks me up and down, a mix of pride and something like concern in his eyes. "You look good, kid. College life treating ya well?"
I nod, falling easily into the familiar pattern of conversation. "Can't complain. How's things been around here?"
Shiver shrugs, a noncommittal gesture that speaks volumes. "Same old, same old. You know how it is."
And I do know.
That's the problem.
Shiver asks, his hand hovering over the gate controls, "Here for the party?"
"Aye," I say finally. "Thought I'd stop by, see some familiar faces. Mum might’ve pressured me into it too."
Shiver nods, pressing the button to open the gate. "Well, you'll certainly see plenty of those," he says with a chuckle. "Go on in. I’ll catch ya later, Aggie."
As the gate swings open, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what's to come.
"Good to see ye too, Shiver," I say, stepping through.
The path to the main building is lined with bikes, their chrome gleaming in the dim light.
The rumble of engines and the thump of music grows louder with each step, and I can feel the bass vibrating in my chest.
I pause at the door, my hand on the handle.
This is it.
Once I step inside, there's no going back.
Back to being Grim’s eldest daughter, not just Aggie the college student.
"Ye can do this," I mutter to myself, squaring my shoulders. "It's just one night."
With one final deep breath, I push the door open and step inside.
The noise hits me like a physical force—music, laughter, the clinking of bottles, and the unmistakable sound of pool balls colliding.
The air is thick with smoke and the mixed scents of sandalwood, spilled whiskey, and some Latino food.
It's a smell that instantly transports me back to my childhood, to nights spent curled up on the couch in the Montana clubhouse while the adults partied around me.
Well, minus the Latino food.
We didn’t have anyone who could cook that well in Montana back then.
For a moment, I'm overwhelmed by the sensory overload.
But then muscle memory kicks in, and I find myself scanning the room, looking for anyone I recognize.
There's Booger at the bar, his massive frame unmistakable even from across the room.
Dixon's holding in a game at the pool table, probably running some poor prospect through the wringer.
And over in the corner, I spot Kat and Ivy, their dark heads bent close together in conversation.
I'm so busy taking in the scene that I almost miss the sudden hush that falls over the room.
It takes me a second to realize that everyone's staring at me.
Faces turn, conversations stop mid-sentence, and even the music seems to fade into the background.
"Shite," I mutter under my breath, fighting the urge to turn tail and run.
But then I see him , and everything else fades away.
Jack.
He's standing by the bar, a Jameson in his hand and a look of shock on his face.
But it's not his presence that surprises me—it's what he's wearing.
A cut.
A fucking cut with a "Prospect" patch clearly visible.
Our eyes lock across the room, and for a moment, it's like we're the only two people in the world.
I can see the questions in his eyes, the same ones that are probably reflected in mine.
What the hell is he doing here?
When did this happen?
But before I can even think about approaching him, I'm engulfed in a whirlwind of dark hair and perfume.
"Aggie!" Kat's voice is warm and welcoming as she pulls me into a hug. "Look at you, all grown up!"
Ivy's right behind her, her smile just as bright. "It’s been too long since most of us have seen you," she says, pulling me in for a hug of her own.
I return their embraces, grateful for the distraction from Jack's piercing gaze.
"It's good to see ye both," I say, and I'm surprised to find that I mean it.
Despite my reservations about coming tonight, there's something comforting about being surrounded by familiar faces.
"So, college girl," Kat says, linking her arm through mine and leading me toward the bar. "Tell us everything. How's Las Vegas treating you?"
I let out a small laugh, falling into step beside her. "It's... different," I admit. "Lots of lights, lots of noise. Not quite like Montana."
Ivy chuckles, falling into step on my other side. "I bet. But you're studying something exciting, right? What was it again?"
"Cybersecurity," I reply, unable to keep the pride out of my voice. "With a minor in Data Science and Artificial Intelligence."
Kat lets out a low whistle. "Impressive. Sounds like you're keeping busy."
I nod, grateful for the easy conversation. "Aye, it keeps me on my toes. How about you two? How's everything here?"
As Kat launches into a story about her daughter Aurora's latest antics, my mind wanders.
I’m so caught off guard by Jack being here tonight.
"Aggie?" Kat's voice pulls me back to the present. "You okay, hon? You look like you've seen a ghost."
I force a smile, pushing down the anxiety bubbling in my chest. "Sorry, just got lost in thought for a second. What were ye saying about Aurora?"
Kat eyes me suspiciously but continues her story.
As she talks, I can't help but scan the room, my gaze landing on familiar faces.
Everyone seems so relaxed, so at ease.
Could things really be that bad if everyone is so relaxed?
"Earth to Aggie," Ivy says, nudging me gently. "You sure you're all right?"
I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering unease. "Aye, I'm fine. Just... it's a lot to take in. I’m gettin’ used to college, how much studying I have to do, the social life requirements. You know."
Ivy nods sympathetically. "I bet. But hey, you're family. This is your home too, remember that."
I clear my throat, pushing some of my aside. "Thank you both, I really appreciate that. So, Aurora’s turning two soon, right?" I direct my question to Kat.
Kat laughs, the sound warm and rich. "Oh yes. She's a handful who’s in her terrible twos. Just like her daddy."
Ivy giggles. “I’d say Damon’s been stuck in his terrible twos for twenty years.”
Both of the ladies laugh hard, and I join in.
"Enough about us," Ivy chimes in, her dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. "How's college treating you? We want all the juicy details."
I feel a flutter of pride in my chest. "It's really good so far. I'm loving it, actually. The classes are challenging, but in the best way."
Ivy whistles low. "Impressive. Sounds like you're keeping busy."
I'm about to respond when I feel a pair of strong hands grab my shoulders from behind, shaking me playfully.
"Well, well, well," Cobra's gravelly voice booms. "You gonna be our hacker, hmm? Do some dirty deeds for the club?"
My heart races, but I keep my voice steady. "I'd do anything for the damn club, and you know that."
The words come out stronger than I expect, but it’s true.
I would do absolutely anything for the club.
Cobra's face splits into a wide grin. "See, that's what I'm talkin' about!"
I laugh, but internally, I'm grappling with the weight of my words.
I mean them, every single one.
This club is my family, and has been since Grim brought us into the club life.
"Unc Cobra is gon' show you around and introduce you to everyone," he announces, his voice carrying through the clubhouse.
I can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from my chest.
It feels good to be here, surrounded by people who've known me since I was knee-high.
But as I scan the room, my eyes lock onto Jack's, and the laughter dies in my throat.
His deep green eyes are dark, stormy.
There's an intensity there that makes my skin prickle and he's staring at Cobra's arm around me like he wants to rip it off.
Mmm, he’s the jealous type.
This could be fun.
"Lead the way," I say, leaning into Cobra's side just a bit more than necessary.
I toss my hair over my shoulder, making sure to catch Jack's eye as I do.
As Cobra starts to guide me through the crowd, I can practically feel Jack's gaze burning into my back.
It's a heavy feeling, this power.
I might be new to the clubhouse as an adult, but I'm no blushing wee lass.
"So, who's the new prospect?" I ask Cobra innocently, though my eyes flick back to Jack. "Don't think I've seen him around before."
Cobra chuckles, a low rumble in his chest. "That's Jolt. Been prospecting for a few years now. Good kid, but he's got a lot to learn about the life."
I hum thoughtfully, filing away the information.
Jack—no, Jolt—is still watching us, his jaw clenched tight.
I wonder what he's thinking, what he sees when he looks at me.