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CHAPTER TWO

THREE MONTHS BEFORE the final moments of Bolt’s Flame , this is where Spinner’s story began.

I loved the wind.

It was a balm against my skin, carrying away the weight of everything I couldn’t let go. I gripped the handlebars tighter, leaning into the curve as the motorcycle vibrated beneath me. Out here, on the open road, the noise in my head quieted. The constant spinning—the madness that had been my shadow since I was a kid—finally slowed.

But the peace never lasted. It was short-lived, like the stretch of pavement ahead. Always more road, always more to run from.

I pulled into the lot outside Shorty’s Tavern, killing the engine and letting the silence settle. The others rumbled in behind me, the low growl of Harleys filling the night air like thunder rolling through the hills. Devil had sent us into town to check on some intel. The work was routine, but my gut told me it was a dead end. I didn’t trust information that came so easily, especially not with Dragon Fire sniffing around our territory trying to stake their claim like wolves scenting blood on the wind.

Thunder parked beside me, his grin as sharp as the chrome on his bike. I liked Thunder, but there was something dark he kept hidden behind that I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude. “You look like shit, Spinner. You sleep last night, or were you up playin’ with your toys again?”

“Fuck off, Thunder,” I muttered, pulling off my helmet. The small black spinning gadget in my pocket felt heavy against my leg. He wasn’t wrong. I’d spent half the night in my room, flicking it between my fingers, watching the blur until my eyes burned.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, heading for the bar’s entrance.

Inside, the place was the same as always—shitty lighting casting long shadows, sticky floors that clung to your boots, and a reek of sweat mixed with cheap perfume. The speakers pumped out some grungy rock ballad, too loud for the customers to talk without shouting.

This was my spot when I needed to disappear for a while, tucked away from the world and close to Devil’s Ink, my tattoo shop down the street. But tonight, the air felt heavier. Off.

My eyes scanned the room, automatically clocking the exits and the regulars, when I saw her.

She was here.

I froze, the breath catching in my throat. My heartbeat kicked up like I’d hit a patch of gravel at full speed.

The woman I hadn’t been able to get out of my fucking head since the night she disappeared—first from this very bar, then from High Voltage—sat at the far end of the counter. Her dark hair was pulled back, vivid blue eyes scanning the room like she owned it, her fingers toying absently with the rim of a glass.

Lucy.

She hadn’t noticed me yet, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Last time, she’d left before I could figure out what the hell was happening between us. One minute, we were talking— something about her just hit different —and the next, she vanished like exhaust on the highway. Every damn time.

Now, seeing her again, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for round three.

“Spinner?” Chain’s voice snapped me out of it. “What’s goin’ on with you?”

“Nothin’,” I said, but my eyes stayed locked on her.

Lucy’s gaze finally found mine, and for a second, the noise in my head stopped. No spinning. No madness. Just her.

She tilted her head, something between a smirk and a challenge playing on her lips. Then she turned back to her drink, like I was nothing more than one of the bars shitty decorations.

I couldn’t stop my feet as they started toward her. “I gotta hit the can,” I said over my shoulder, not wanting to share Lucy, even for a second. Right now, I needed answers—why she kept disappearing on me.

“Lucy,” I said when I reached her.

She looked up, those piercing blue eyes cutting through me like a hot wire, searing straight to something deep inside me. “Spinner. Thought you’d forgotten about me.”

“Hard to forget someone who keeps runnin’ off,” I said, sliding onto the stool beside her.

She tried to play it cool, but the flicker of something—relief, maybe—flashed in her eyes before she smothered it. Her smile stayed tight. “I don’t run. I just know when to leave.”

I leaned in, keeping my voice low. “What are you doin’ here?”

“Drinking,” she said, lifting her glass like it was all the answer I needed. But her eyes told a different story, curious yet cautious, like she was interested but wasn’t sure if she should be.

Before I could push for more, the door to the bar swung open, slamming against the wall. Two men stepped inside, the bar lights glinting off their leather jackets.

They were trouble, sure as shit. My shoulders tensed, my body leaning instinctively toward them.

Lucy noticed, too. Her gaze flicked to the men, and for the first time, I saw something crack through her calm exterior. It wasn’t just fear. It was something rawer, something deeper—survival instinct.

Her hand tightened around her glass, knuckles white. Then she slid off her stool, moving with the kind of practiced grace that came from knowing how to disappear.

“I’ll see you around, Spinner,” she said, her voice tight.

“Wait—” I reached for her arm, but she was already moving.

Lucy disappeared into the shadows at the back of the bar, leaving me with more questions than answers.

Again .

The two men lingered by the door, their grins slick with trouble and brimming with hostility. They didn’t make a move, just watched, their eyes sweeping over me and my brothers like they were sizing us up for something.

I didn’t have time to worry about Lucy. Not now, with those fuckers here. But as I turned back to Thunder and Chain, I couldn’t shake the feeling that her running out of here was no coincidence.

And that whatever storm she was running from was about to pull me in.

I’D NEVER ADMIT it out loud, but my heart sped up the second I saw him.

Spinner walked into the bar like he owned the place, broad shoulders relaxed, confidence pouring off him like he didn’t have a care in the world. The bar lights caught on the patches of his leather cut, the kind that told anyone with half a brain he wasn’t just any man, he was to be feared.

Dangerous.

The kind of dangerous that should’ve sent me packing.

But I stayed.

Hell, that’s why I was here in the first place. I’d been parked on this same damn stool every night for a week, nursing watered-down drinks and pretending I had nowhere better to be.

I did.

Spinner was why I kept coming back, though I couldn’t explain why. I wasn’t the type to perch on the edge of my seat, batting my lashes and hoping a man would show up like a damn romance novel heroine.

Yet here I was, parked like a damn fool, waiting.

I’d met him at this very bar, while doing some research. And damn, when he walked in, he had my full attention. The way he moved, the way his eyes cut through the room like they were searching for me, it made me feel seen, even when I wanted to disappear.

And I sure as hell had his attention too. That first night, he owned the room, swaggered right up to me like he already knew how this was gonna go. We talked, really connected, it felt easy, natural. But every time, something in the shadows stirred, setting my instincts screaming, and I’d bolt.

Spinner probably thought I was weird as hell.

I needed to let this go. I didn’t get serious about men. I didn’t do trust. There was no room in my life for distractions. Not when the ghosts of what I’d seen turned trust into a currency I’d long since gone broke on.

But again, here I was.

And then there he was.

When his dark eyes fixed on me across the room, that slow, sexy swagger of his pulling him closer, I felt it. That stupid flutter in my chest. The heat rising under my skin like he could set me on fire with just one look.

God, I hated that.

A man having that kind of power over me.

He stopped a few feet away, close enough that I could see the faint hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. I wondered if he could hear how fast my heart was beating, or maybe he could see it written all over my face.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, rough, and too damn tempting.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to sound casual, like my whole body wasn’t humming from the proximity.

We fell into an easy rhythm, his deep voice cutting through the noise of the bar, mine stumbling to keep up. He asked about why I kept running off, why I was here again. I gave him vague answers, acting like he wasn’t affecting me when, deep down, I knew I’d be lying awake later replaying every word he said.

Then the door swung open, the heavy thud of boots cutting through the pounding rhythm of the music.

I glanced toward the entrance, and my stomach dropped.

Drago’s men.

They were a problem I couldn’t ignore.

Two of them strode in like they’d been born to kick down doors and ruin lives, their cold eyes sweeping the room, calculating, hunting. My stomach tightened, instincts honed from years of running screaming at me to get out.

Shit.

My pulse kicked up, every muscle in my body screaming at me to bolt. They hadn’t seen me yet, but it was only a matter of time. I’d made enemies before—hell, I had a list of them—but Drago’s crew was the worst of them all. They’d been after me and my friend for weeks, ever since we slipped through their fingers.

I should’ve known better than to hang around a place like this.

It wasn’t smart.

I wasn’t being smart.

Spinner was still watching me, his brow furrowing slightly, probably picking up on the tension rolling off me in waves.

“I’ll see you around, Spinner,” I said, slipping off the barstool. My voice was steady, but my hands weren’t.

“Lucy?” he called after me, but I kept moving. His eyes followed me as I turned, heading for the side door that led out into the alley. The urge to look back nearly swallowed me whole, but I couldn’t afford distractions—not right now. There was too much at stake.

The alley was quiet, the sharp smell of wet concrete and garbage hitting me as I ducked behind the corner of the building. The night air didn’t do much to settle me. I pressed my back against the wall, peeking around the corner just in time to see Spinner walking back out of the bar with his crew.

They climbed onto their bikes, the rumble of engines filling the night air, and I stood there like an idiot, half hidden in the shadows, watching him.

It wasn’t the first time I’d disappeared on him. Hell, disappearing was my specialty. But something about the way he carried himself, the way his eyes dragged over me, slow and greedy, like a gambler eyeing his last lucky chip, made walking away harder every damn time.

You don’t have time for this.

I kept reminding myself, but the words felt hollow.

Spinner kicked his bike into gear, his dark eyes scanning the parking lot. I knew he was looking for me. He wouldn’t find me, though. I was already a ghost, like always.

Still, as I watched him ride off, the heavy roar of his bike fading into the distance, I knew I’d be back.

I’d come back here, sit on the same barstool, and pretend it was just the drinks that kept me there.

And I’d do it knowing Spinner was the kind of man I could lose myself in.

The kind of man I’d sworn I didn’t have room for in my life.

But dammit, I couldn’t help myself.