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NATALIA

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That’s how long it had been since I’d run like hell through those dark streets that night, my world shattered. A life that would have been beautiful, gone. It had been ten years since I left behind Louisiana, the Royal Bastards, and everything I thought I knew about love, loyalty, and betrayal. Ten years since I last saw Tick Tock.

The night I ran, bloodied and bruised, with only the broken pieces of my heart and the memory of my father's blood staining the floor, I called the only person I knew would answer without asking questions.

Scarlett Stone.

She was a name my mom whispered about during those rare quiet nights when she still told me stories. Scarlett was one of her cousin’s and although I didn’t really know her that well, she knew me. She was the person, other than my father, who would send me a card on my birthday. Always had a loving message for me even though we were far apart.

She’d given me her phone number once and I’d saved it in my cell phone. Scarlett answered on the first ring. Her voice, rough with sleep, turned sharp and alert the second she heard my name.

“Hello.”

“Hello, is this Scarlett?”

She paused for a second and then responded. “Yes…who is this?”

“It’s Natalia. Natalia Ramirez.”

“Oh my God! Natalia! What a surprise! It’s so good to finally hear your voice.”

I couldn’t hel but smile at her reaction. “I was calling because I’m need of some help.”

“Oh? Ae you in trouble?”

“Yeah. And my Dad is dead. And I have nowhere else to go,” I broke down and word vomited.

She didn’t hesitate. She just told me she’d call me back in a few minutes. Those few minutes were the longest wait of my life as I sat on that bench along the waterside. I was about to give up when the phone lit up.

“Okay, there’s a member of the Hellbound Lovers heading your way. Where are you?”

“At the port.”

“I want you to walk to Decatur Street to the Cafe Du Monde. You wait for him there. His name is Gunner. He looks mean as fuck, but he’s a sweetheart. I promise he’ll bring you home to me.”

“I…I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Just get here in one piece. We’ll figure out the rest later.”

As the call ended, i took a deep breath and headed to the Cafe. About an hour later a man walked in, cover in tattoos. I turned away as he scanned the room. I waited until he turned, and I was able to see his patch. The Hellbound Lovers angel wings were sewn into the back of his cut. I gave a deep sigh of relief as I walked up to him.

“Gunner?”

He turned to look at me and his eyes softened. “Natalia?”

I nodded. “You like hell.”

I had tears in my eyes, and he grabbed me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, squeezing lightly. “It’s alright. You’re safe now. Let me take you home. Scarlett’s waiting for you.”

“Where is home?” I asked quietly.

“L.A.” He smiled brightly, and my breathing became easier. Los Angeles, California. The farthest place I could think of to have gone to.

I didn’t know what I expected, maybe a room to sleep in for a few nights. What I got was something different entirely. Scarlett was the Old Lady of Wolf Stone, President of the Hellbound Lovers MC. A club just as fierce and just as known as the Royal Bastards, but it was different. Structured. Family-driven. They didn’t chase power for the sake of it, they protected their own with savage loyalty. And for some reason, they decided to protect me too.

Wolf wasn’t like any man I’d met before. Tall, dark, handsome in a brutal sort of way. His shoulders looked carved out of stone, his voice low and commanding, but it was his eyes that did it, dark with fury when needed, but soft when they landed on Scarlett or their children. He never once looked at me like I was trouble, never once treated me like the ticking time bomb I knew I was. He welcomed me into his world with a nod and a quiet promise: "You’re family now. We protect our own."

I stayed away from the club mostly. I had no place there. I wasn’t an Old Lady, wasn’t a sister to anyone, wasn’t anything but a ghost of what the Royal Bastards had spit out. Still, I’d catch glimpses of the men, inked-up members with wicked grins and dark eyes, hard bodies and harder hearts. They were dangerous, sure, but not like the Bastards. These men rode for family, and they had a safe haven for any and all travelers. They represented what the Bastards used to stand for.

And then, a few weeks after my escape, when I thought the nightmares might finally ease, I missed my period.

Scarlett noticed before I did. She hovered while I puked into the sink, her hands cool against my back, worry in her voice. A trip to the doctor confirmed it. I was pregnant.

I nearly broke then. A child? At twenty?

But Scarlett, fierce and unwavering, held me together when I was sure I’d fall apart. She helped me through the pregnancy, stayed by my side when I gave birth to a baby boy who had my eyes and his father’s jawline. I named him Gabriel. Like the angel who carried messages from heaven and protected those on the edge of war.

And that’s what he was. My angel. My salvation.

I never told Gabriel about his father. How could I? All I remembered was blood, fire, and silence. At first, I hoped. Maybe he’d come find me. Maybe he’d search every town, every state, until he stumbled across us and realized I’d survived. But months passed. Years. No word. Nothing.

So, I moved on. Built a quiet life. Asked Wolf to teach me how to handle a gun, he went a step ahead and taught me a few defense moves he'd taught Scarlett. Sparring with him became my therapy and he quietly understood that. I finished my nursing degree. Took care of my son. Had dinners with Scarlett and quiet conversations on the porch while the California sun burned down on our faces.

That’s where we were when the past came knocking.

Scarlett and I were sitting on the front porch of the deck of card house Wolf had bought them. We were sipping on wine while Gabriel played closeby with a toy motorcycle, his giggles rising above the chirping birds. She looked tired, a soft smile on her lips, her beautiful mess of hair pulled up in a loose bun.

"He’s got your fire," she said, nodding toward my son.

I smiled faintly. "God help me when he hits teenage years."

The rumble of a bike cut through the air and Scarlett sat up straighter. We both knew that familiar sound.

Wolf.

Climbing off his bike, he looked like some GQ model or something. Dark jeans, worn boots, his cut clinging to his broad chest like a second skin. He climbed the steps slowly, eyes on me the entire time. Something twisted in my stomach. "What is it?"

"We got word," he said quietly.

Scarlett’s hand found mine instinctively.

"What kind of word?" I asked, heart thudding.

Wolf looked me dead in the eye. "Rancid’s dead."

I stood so fast the chair scraped backward. "What?"

He nodded. "I'm not gonna tell you how, just know it was a brutal killing. It was well-deserved, I suppose."

"Who did?"

Wolf paused for a second, glancing at Scarlett then back at me. "Elrik Jameson is the new President of the Royal Bastards now."

My knees gave out, and I sat back down, hands shaking.

"Are you alright, love?" Scarlett asked, concern thick in her voice.

"I don’t know," I whispered.

"You’re safe now," she said gently. I looked at her, placing my hand over hers and nodded.

But the world wouldn’t stop spinning. Wolf kept going, his voice low. "Rancid was working with the Russians. Sex trafficking, arms, even some shit with the Bloody Scorpions. Colt, the VP decided to take a chance, and he had Knuckles call Jameson.”

“But wasn’t Knuckles in prison?” Scarlett looked at her husband.

“Let’s just say, we pulled some strings.”

Scarlett grabbed his hand and squeezed it, a knowing look passed between them, but I didn’t ask any questions.

“All I can tell you is half of the current Louisiana members have left town, Founding Members are tired of fighting, some stayed, some went, and Jameson's out for vengeance. I'd be amazed to see who remains standing."

I could barely breathe.

Home.

Scarlett turned to me once Wolf disappeared inside. "What are you going to do?"

I looked out into that wide, cloudless sky. Listened to the wind blow through the trees. Watched my son giggle as he played. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, and maybe it was my stubborn nature wanting to return, or maybe I just wanted to see if he was still alive.

"Home," I whispered. "I’m taking my son home."

“But what about…”

“I hope I see him. Because if he dares to come near me or my son,” I looked at Scarlett. “I’ll put a bullet right between his eyes.”

“Natalia,” Scarlett whispered, squeezing my hand.

“Eye for an eye as Wolf likes to say.” And God help anyone who tried to stop me.