Page 31

About two months after Lovie was rescued…

Reese “Ravage”

Tucker sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at the photograph he’d taken out of his wallet for the first time in four years.

The crease in the middle, from where he had kept it folded, was almost worn in two.

The edges were tattered and torn, and the picture had faded over the twenty-eight years he’d carried it around.

He’d almost thrown it away hundreds of times over the years.

He should have.

But then he’d always look at the photograph of the first and last time he had been truly happy, fold it again, and tuck it back into his wallet, promising himself that next time, he would finally discard it.

She was beautiful.

Every time he looked at her picture, the memories of their brief time together flooded his mind.

As a new recruit in the Oakland, California chapter of the Lawless Warriors, one of his regular tasks was to pick up beer for Dodger, the club president.

He wanted one specific beer that could only be found in a small craft beer bar across town, and for some reason, he trusted Ravage to fetch it for him.

She’d been in a coffee shop across the street, seated at the table next to the window.

She always had a book in her hand.

The woman loved to read.

He’d wanted her the moment he saw her.

He walked straight across the street, marched into the coffee shop, and informed her she was coming with him to a hog roast that weekend.

She’d informed him she was engaged but thanked him for thinking of her.

A smile tugged at his lips.

She was the sweetest woman he’d ever known, but she had her fire and spice.

He’d always told her she was just like the red hots and lemon drops he always had with him.

He’d gotten her addicted to them, too.

She was from the rich side of the tracks.

Way too good for him.

But she never made him feel that way.

He’d known she was his from that first day.

He left that coffee shop knowing it was only a matter of time before he’d wear her down.

He’d been right. Sort of.

They’d always meet at the coffee shop, then she’d be on the back of his bike.

The fact she never wanted to meet at her place should have bothered him, but he didn’t let it.

They always lived in the moment, with her on the back of his bike.

He put a lot of miles on his bike that winter.

Made love in a lot of places… the beach, the desert, even once under the giant sequoia trees to the north of the city.

But never in his room at the compound, never in her home.

That didn’t matter to him until the day she wasn’t waiting for him at the coffee shop.

He never saw her again.

And wherever she was, over a quarter of a century later, he still carried her picture around in his wallet.

He’d been with more women than he could count since then.

Given a lot of women his dick.

But he’d never given another one his heart.

Wherever she’d gone, she’d taken that with her. Not that he missed it.

He ran his finger across the picture.

He’d had no idea she’d been pregnant when she left him.

There was no corner of the city he hadn’t searched.

He’d tried everything to find her.

If he’d known she carried his child, he’d have burned the city to the ground searching for her.

The fact he’d never see her again eventually became a reality.

Until four years earlier when Dodger, still president but too old to carry it anymore, told him he had to babysit a fucking hostage and keep her safe and untouched.

Wishing, not for the first time, he could spank a photograph, he shook his head.

“You should have told me, Loveleen.

If you were here, I’d put you over my knee.”

That wouldn’t have been a first, either.

Instead, he walked into a room at one of the club's safe houses and was thrown back in time.

The woman he was supposed to guard looked identical to the picture tucked away in his wallet.

“Do you have any idea what that did to me? Why didn’t you tell me? Were you really that ashamed of me?”

There was no doubt the girl was Loveleen’s daughter.

She was a carbon copy of her mother.

For a second, he’d thought she was Loveleen.

He didn’t try to kid himself she wasn’t his daughter.

The papers Dodger gave him had her birth date on them.

So, there wasn’t much of a doubt she was his kid.

Fuck, he’d almost dropped to his knees.

There was also the girl’s attitude.

She might have looked like her mother, but that smart mouth and stubborn streak had been all Ravage.

What were the odds of him ever seeing her? A million to one.

He’d been a biker long enough to know with her spirit and those looks, it was only a matter of time before she became property of the club.

He had no idea how to keep her safe without informing the club who she was.

So, he told everyone her “father,”

Phillip Thorne, had laid down the law: Lovelyn Reese wasn’t to be touched.

By then, as the enforcer for the Warriors, Ravage could ensure no one messed with her.

And so, he did.

Staring at the photo, his vision blurred.

“You told her something about me, though, didn’t you? No other reason for her to have picked the last name of Reese.

I’ve never had the guts to tell her who I am, Leenie.

But I watch out for her.

She’s a great kid.

Found a good man. But if you tell him I said that, I’ll deny it and call you a liar.”

Not that he’d really ever do that.

He wouldn’t.

And he’d kill anyone else who said anything bad about his Leenie.

Because whatever cards life had dealt them, she was his and always would be.

He hadn’t been sure about Law.

Didn’t know if the man could give his girl the life and love she deserved.

But when he’d found out what the General had done, drugging Lovie and putting her in the ground, there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do about it.

Turning his daughter's life over to another man had been the second hardest thing he’d ever done after losing his Leenie.

But Law had come through.

He’d reached Lovie in time and ensured she was okay.

So, Ravage guessed he’d have to let the man have his daughter.

But the General? His days on this earth were numbered.

He’d already lost twenty-seven years of Lovie’s life.

No one was taking the rest of her years from him.

“I’ll find out what happened to you one day, Leenie.

My gut tells me it has to do with that man you chose over me.

You better believe me, we’re gonna have one hell of a discussion when we meet again.

You aren’t gonna sit comfortable for a while by the time I’m done either.

But at least we’ll be together.

Whether it’s in this life or whatever comes next, no god in the universe would deny us eternity together.”

Glancing at the clock, he scowled.

It was almost time for the meeting that complete asshat the General had called.

His stomach soured at the thought.

He might be the president of the Warriors now, but thanks to decisions made at a level a hell of a lot higher than him, that didn’t mean fuck all it used to.

After working to unclench his jaw, he stood.

“I’m gonna be working on that, too, Leenie.

The Warriors are nothing more than puppets now.

And I’m tired as hell of having my strings yanked to do shit like selling drugs to kids and peddling flesh.

It’s time for a change, but I think I know a group of men who can help me make things happen.”

He shook his head and sighed.

It wasn’t going to be easy.

The Warriors had never been anything but an outlaw club.

They had their own way of doing things, and they made their own rules.

But that was just it.

They made the decisions, not some Society of dickwads who were willing to sell their own children for profit. Yeah, it was time for a change. Time for him to take back his club.

“I’ll take care of our girl, Leenie.

At least, I’ll make sure her man does right by her.

I don’t think it’ll be hard.

I’m gonna find out what happened to you, too.

Phillip told Lovie you walked away from your kids.

That’s bullshit. But don’t worry, your girl knows it and she’s made sure your boy knows it, too. I don’t know what your husband did to you, but I’m gonna find out. And when I do, he’s gonna bleed.”

With one last look at his girl, he folded the worn photograph and carefully slipped it into his wallet.

Ravage had shit to do.

He had a daughter to get to know and a club to reclaim.

Life was about to get very interesting.