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CHAPTER ONE

Gray

My Harley’s motor growled as I leaned into the curve of highway that crossed into Riverton city limits.

The power between my legs was a lot more fun three hundred miles ago. My thighs and back ached from holding my position on the V-Rod. It was a badass bike, but not the best for long trips.

Thank fuck I’d installed a better seat and windshield—or I’d really be hurting.

The land that stretched ahead of me was flat as fuck, revealing the familiar site of Forrester & Sons Auto Shop ahead. My stomach heaved. What a joke. The old man had named the auto shop like we were his real sons or something.

We were nothing but free labor to him. Just a group of fucked-up foster kids who could help keep the “family” business running. Mom had been the one to give us a home, affection, love.

They were both dead and gone now, though. Only my brothers waited for me.

I rolled off the throttle instinctively, losing speed. I didn’t kid myself. I’d been gone ten years, and even with the letter from my older brother, Holden, asking me to come back, this wasn’t going to be a sweet homecoming.

Time to rip off the Band-Aid.

I picked up speed, cruising past the fenced-off junkyard adjacent to the auto shop. Set back a few hundred yards, the farmhouse where I’d spent nine years of my childhood was just visible.

It looked better than I remembered, a bright white that spoke of a fresh paint job, with slate-gray trim in place of the old faded green. I slowed to make the turn into the parking lot.

A huge beast of a dog came out of nowhere, barking like fucking Cujo. I swerved, startled, and almost laid the damn bike on its side.

“Sugar!” a deep voice called. “Sugar, we’ve talked about this! No attacking visitors.”

I pulled the bike back from the brink of a crash and wobbled to a stop. My adrenaline roared as I kicked down the stand and tugged off my helmet.

“You call that fucking beast Sugar ?”

The guy slipped two fingers under the rottweiler’s collar, tugging it back—and holy shit, was that Axel ? I’d last seen him when he was fifteen. He’d shot up five inches, and his honey-blond hair was loose and blowing in the wind, covering half his face and giving him a wild look. Tats ran up and down his arms.

His blue eyes widened when he saw me, then narrowed.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

His snarl was almost as vicious as Sugar’s. The dog curled its lip up, showing me teeth. Sensing Axel’s animosity? If he decided to let Sugar go, could I make it inside the shop without losing a chunk of flesh?

I hung my helmet on the handlebars and swung a leg over the bike, moving nice and slow so Sugar wouldn’t think I was more of a threat.

“Holden said y’all needed me.”

“We don’t need shit from you.”

My older brother emerged from the bay garage, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. “Speak for yourself, Ax. This place doesn’t run itself.”

Holden’s brown hair was chin-length but cut more conservatively than mine or Axel’s. He wore a black button-down, with the sleeves rolled up to expose inked forearms, and dark jeans. It was an odd contrast to the grease rag in his hands—and my memories of him mostly bumming around in sweats and hoodies.

“We do just fine,” Axel said.

Sugar growled quietly to remind me whose side she was on. Axel patted her head, murmuring soft assurances that contradicted the death glare he was shooting my way.

I sidestepped toward Holden. Strength in numbers and all. I didn’t want to be dog food.

“What’s with the slobbering beast?”

Holden snorted a laugh. “Who, Sugar? She’s the sweetest. Aren’t you, babydoll?”

Sugar’s tongue rolled out, and she finally sat her butt on the pavement, some of her tension uncoiling.

“Don’t sweet-talk my girl,” Axel protested. “We’re pissed right now. How could you invite this traitor back home?”

“That’s a little harsh,” I muttered.

I’d had reasons to leave. It wasn’t something I’d wanted to do. Staying would have made things so much worse.

Not that Axel knew any of that. Not when I’d been here one day and gone the next without a single word of explanation.

If I could have said goodbye without dragging him into the mess… Well, I’d made the best choices I could to protect my brothers. My pain didn’t need to be theirs.

“We need him,” Holden said bluntly. “Unless you know how to clone yourself and do double the work?”

“We get by,” Axel argued, “and it’s not like we can’t hire more help. We’ve got Jose.”

“Jose’s about two years from croaking over the open hood of a rusty-ass Ford.”

“I heard that!” a raspy voice called with a chuckle. “I ain’t dead yet!” A white-haired, wrinkled version of the part-time mechanic I remembered from my teenage years came to the opening of the garage. “Although I might starve to death. Where’s that lunch I was promised?”

“Right here,” Axel said, lifting the bag in his right hand.

I’d barely noticed it with all my attention on Sugar , and I wasn’t paying a lot of attention now either—not when my youngest brother had just stepped up beside Jose.

Bailey was only eight when I left. His dark hair still held a hint of curl and a stubborn cowlick that stuck up in the back, but that was about all that was the same. He was pushing six feet, with broad shoulders and a jawline covered in light stubble. He’d be eighteen now—older than I was when I’d run off.

My heart twisted. Of all my regrets, missing so much of Bailey’s life was the strongest.

“Bailey, man, you’ve grown up!”

“Yep.” His hazel eyes surveyed me coolly. “That’s what kids do.”

I stepped toward him, but Bailey turned his gaze toward Axel. “Let’s eat. We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“Oh, suddenly, you’ve got work discipline?” Jose asked with a chuckle. “Boy’s been texting so much he’s barely touched an engine block.”

Bailey scowled, looking like the kid I knew. “Whatever. It’s lunchtime!”

Axel crossed close enough to the garage to shove the bag into Holden’s arms. “There’re enough sandwiches you can even feed the asshole. But count me out.”

“Axel—” Holden started.

He got flipped the bird for his trouble. Axel gave a sharp whistle, and Sugar trotted after him like the tamest little monster ever. I hoped her bark was worse than her bite, though, because judging by Axel’s attitude, he’d love to let her loose on me.

Holden turned to me with a sigh. “Come on. Let’s go inside. We’ve got plenty to catch up on.”

“Where’s Axel going?” I asked. “To the house?”

“Nah. He spends most of his time at the junkyard with his strays.”

“He’s got more of those beasts?”

Holden chuckled. “He has a real way with them. They’re not all scary rottweilers, though. He’s got a little terrier too. Whatever folks dump out this way.”

I grimaced. I’d forgotten how often folks treated country roads like a good place to abandon their pets. Mom had insisted the old man take them to the nearest shelter. Once she died, he’d just ignored the problem. I guess Axel had come up with his own solution.

Gotta say, it was a hell of a lot more compassionate, but how many dogs could he set on me if he got pissed enough?

Holden led the way into the garage. The scent of oil and gasoline took me back to the last time I’d been here. I’d been tuning up a Yamaha bike when Dallas came by to pick up his dad’s pickup.

He’d eyed me up and down suggestively. We’d been dancing around the obvious attraction between us. Mostly, Dallas dropped innuendo and waited for me to take the bait. I’d been wary. This wasn’t the sort of town I fit into well, much less if everyone knew I was gay.

But after weeks of this tentative foreplay, I was jonesing for some action.

When Dallas stood so close that night, his breath heating my face, I broke. With a snarl of need, I grabbed his neck and yanked him into a kiss. I was a horny teenager, and opportunities didn’t come that often.

“Suck my dick,” Dallas had rasped into my ear.

I all but fell to my knees, mouth watering.

Which was when the old man walked in and caught us. He’d come to check that I’d finished the tune-up.

One look at us—me on my knees, Dallas’s jeans already undone—had sealed my fate.

“He’s trying to molest me,” Dallas blurted. “I told him I wasn’t a deviant!”

He shoved my shoulder hard enough to send me sprawling on my ass, then hopped into the pickup and peeled out.

My foster dad stared at me with such a look of hate that I’d wondered briefly if he might kill me where I knelt.

Instead, he’d told me with eerie calm that I was going to hell, and he didn’t need my kind of evil infecting his other kids.

I left that night with little more than the clothes on my back and a handful of twenties he’d given me. If Mom had been alive, it might have gone differently. But she was dead, the old man was drinking more than ever, and he’d been right about one thing.

Staying would have tainted everyone in the family.

My brothers would either hate me for what I was, or they’d hate Dad for throwing me out. Either way, it’d ruin the remaining crumbs of family they had left, and I couldn’t do that.

So I’d gone.

Holden carried lunch to the office space crammed into a corner of the garage. There was a metal desk covered in a laptop and dozens of invoices, a large toolbox, and tires piled in one corner.

Holden sat in the comfortable office chair and started unpacking the sandwiches and chips Axel had brought over. “Looks like we’ve got roast beef and cheddar today.”

Bailey took one of the two chairs in front of the desk. I hung back, figuring Jose needed a seat more than me. I’d just spent hours on my ass on the road, anyway.

Holden held out a cellophane-wrapped sandwich, and Jose took it. “I’ll leave you all your family business.”

“You don’t have to go,” Holden said.

He grinned, showing a gap where he was missing two teeth on the upper right. “Aw, I think it’s best I be left out of all this.” He patted my shoulder. “Welcome home.”

My insides recoiled.

Home? I wasn’t home. I was just here to find some closure. To mend fences with my brothers, maybe finally put my past to rest.

“Sit down,” Holden said. “Jose’s right. We should talk.”

“Do I have to be here for this?” Bailey asked, taking the sandwich Holden handed him. “I’ve got other things to do.”

“You should stay. This is family business.”

“Axel didn’t stay,” Bailey said, though he kept his ass in the chair.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t go making Axel your role model, or god help us all.”

Bailey laughed. “No worries, man. I don’t want herpes.”

“ Herpes ?” I exclaimed.

“No one has herpes.” Holden glared at Bailey’s smirk. “At least, I sure as hell hope he wraps that thing up. He sticks it every damn where.”

“Except the place he really wants it,” Bailey said.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

Bailey clamped his mouth shut, apparently remembering I was an outsider who didn’t deserve to know their inside jokes.

Holden shook his head. “Why don’t we talk about the plan now that you’re back? The old man ran this place into the ground. I tried to do damage control, but between him cursing out customers while drunk, doing half-assed, shoddy work when our backs were turned, and getting a damn DUI while driving the tow truck, the Forrester name is dogshit.”

“So about the same as always,” I said.

Bailey huffed. “He’s not wrong.”

“Worse than dogshit, then,” Holden said. “I’ve been working the past six months to rebuild our reputation. I’ve joined the Chamber of Commerce, tried my best to attend local business functions, and worked to make connections.”

“That explains the dress shirt,” I said. “But you’ll never be able to hide your rough edges. You’re not like them. None of us are.”

“I’m not a fucking sellout,” Holden said. “I don’t want to be like them. I want to rebuild a viable business here.”

“Why bother? We’d probably all be better off with a clean slate.”

“You would think that,” Bailey said. “You’re not one of us anymore.”

Ouch. That one burned.

I expected Holden to remind Bailey he’d fucking invited me back, but he didn’t have my back this time. His eyes were cool as he said, “We don’t all run away from our problems, Gray.”

“Oh, fuck you. I didn’t have a choice.”

He raised an eyebrow. “There’s always a choice.”

“Well, not a fucking good one.”

“We can agree on that,” he said, lifting his sandwich to take a big bite. With his cheek still bulging, he added, “Now, as I was saying, there’s work to do, and your ass is helping me do it.”

“So, I see you’re still bossy as hell,” I muttered.

Bailey smirked. “I guess maybe you do know a few things.”

I cast him a look. “More than a few, Squirt.”

“Oh, hell no, don’t even think of resurrecting that nickname. I will kick your ass.”

I grinned. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Axel will help. Sugar too. You won’t stand a chance. If it’s us against you, you lose.”

I held up my hands. “All right, kid. Take it easy. I get it. I’m in the doghouse for leaving.”

“The doghouse? Nah. We love dogs. You’re out in the field somewhere, just hoping we’ll take you in like a stray. Because that’s what you are now.” Bailey balled up his sandwich wrapper and tossed it in the nearby trash can. “I got work to do. Just do whatever you want, Holden. You always do.”

“Bailey,” Holden snapped. “Don’t be a brat.”

Bailey ignored him, crossing the garage to join Jose in front of a nineties-model Oldsmobile Buick station wagon.

“So, nothing’s really changed, then. You’re bossy, Axel’s rebellious, and Bailey’s bratty.”

Holden tried to glare, but he couldn’t keep it up long. A grin overtook his face, and then a full-on laugh snuck out. “Damn, man, I want to tell you off, but you’re not wrong. Not even a little.”

I chuckled. “So, what’s this plan, then?”

“Depends. You still know your way around a bike repair?”

“It’s been years since I did anything professionally, but yeah. I fixed up the V-Rod I got outside. Got it cheap, but only ’cause it was knockin’ at death’s door.”

“Good. Good. Bringing back that side of the business would open up a lot of potential customers. Omaha is the closest bike shop.”

“Wait, what do you mean, bringing back ?”

“Well, none of us ever learned properly, not like you. Bailey’s got his hands full with the auto repairs, and Axel’s happier out in the junkyard.”

“And you?”

He scoffed. “I’m a businessman. You know I hate fixing shit.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, but you know I can’t promise to stay for good. I didn’t come back for that. I just… You said you needed help, and I didn’t want to leave you hanging.”

“So don’t,” he said. “Help me do this.”

I hesitated, and his jaw clenched. Holden never had liked it when things didn’t go his way.

“At least while you’re here, be fucking here,” he said. “The future will come soon enough, and I’ll deal with it then.”

I wasn’t sure I believed him. Holden wasn’t really a roll with the punches sort of guy. He was more the type to craft a detailed five-year plan, complete with action steps.

“You think you’re going to convince me to stay,” I guessed.

“Maybe.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Then I guess we’re all fucked.”

“No pressure, huh?”

“A shit ton of pressure,” Holden said. “Welcome to my world. Now, nut up and start making up for all those years you were gone.”

“Okay, then,” I said, bemused. I hadn’t been ordered around like this since I lived with my big brother. He’d left home for college when I was sixteen. “What should I do?”

He opened the desk drawer, pulled out a set of keys, and tossed them to me. “You’re on tow duty. Until we get a call, help Bailey and Jose. And before you ask? Your pay is room and board, nothing else. We’re underwater here, and every spare dime has to go to overhead.”

“Sounds like a great deal,” I said sarcastically. “Glad I drove six hours for this.”

Holden met my eye. “I’m glad you’re back, Gray. Stay a while, okay? I know you’re conflicted about being here, but Dad is gone, and we’re still your brothers. If you give us a chance, we can be a family again.”

“I gave up on family a long time ago,” I said quietly.

“Well, maybe family didn’t give up on you.”

I smiled wryly. “Says you. Axel and Bailey don’t seem too interested in playing brothers.”

“Give ’em time. I didn’t tell them I’d asked you back. Wasn’t sure you’d actually show.”

I winced. That was fair. I hadn’t been sure I’d actually show either. I’d agonized over Holden’s letter for weeks.

I’d thought this part of my life was long gone, even if Holden had checked in from time to time. But now…Axel and Bailey were here, so real and sharp-edged with their anger.

Finding closure might be a little more complicated than I’d imagined.