Niro (Henchmen MC Next Generation 1)

In high school, Andi had been more concerned with saving animals and getting into veterinary school than dating. A selfish part of me was glad. I wasn't sure I could stand by and watch her fall for some other guy.

I wasn't surprised when it got back to me that she'd found someone after only a couple weeks at college. Anyone who didn't meet her and immediately want to be in her life was a fucking psychopath.

I won't lie.

It sent me into a five-day-bender that only my hard-as-nails, ex-cage-fighting father could pull me out of, slamming me up against a wall, scarred hand grabbing my chin.

I know you're hurting, he'd said, nodding. And I know I taught you to cover hurt with hard. But you can't throw your fucking life away over this. Get your shit together.

I'd done the best I could.

I'd moved on as well as you could expect while knowing Andi was spending her time with some other guy, time that used to be mine, time that I missed more than I would ever admit.

By all accounts, this relationship had seemed serious.

He was her first real boyfriend.

Likely, her first... everything.

I felt sick whenever I thought about it, gut churning, heart cracking.

I should have been happy for her.

That would be the selfless thing.

Apparently, though, I was a selfish fucking bastard.

We stayed that way in her bed for what felt like forever, the only sounds being Andi's cries, her sniffling when she tried to pull it together, followed by more cries.

My shirt soaked through before she finally seemed to run out of tears.

"Why didn't he love me?" she asked, cracking what was left of my heart right down the middle.

I couldn't fucking fathom not loving her, not looking at her and seeing how perfect she was, not knowing your life would be immeasurably better just by being near her.

I would know.

I'd been in love with her since I was two years old.

And it showed no signs of stopping.

"I don't know," I admitted, my other arm wrapping her up, holding her tight.

She pulled herself together a few hours later, insisting that she had to get to class, thanking me for coming to 'rescue her once again,' then headed out.

She didn't know it.

I didn't want to admit it.

But I would never stop wanting to rescue her.

I would never turn away any small chance at getting to be near her, to feast on those scraps of her attention to sustain me through the famine.

With her gone, I leashed Nugget, set him in the car with the engine running, went across campus, found the mother fucker who broke my girl's heart, beat the ever-loving shit out of him for it, then headed back home, back to my life, waiting for the next opportunity to see her again.

It was fucked.

I was fucked.

But when someone had your heart in her hand, what the fuck else were you supposed to do? Move on? I had no idea what that would even look like.

So I did what I could.

I kept living.

I came when she called.

And I pretended it didn't gut me when she stopped calling so much.

I took care of Nugget, hopelessly clinging to the last piece of her that I got to keep with me.

Until, one day, she came and took him from me too.

And I had fucking nothing left.

But the memories.

But the love that refused to die no matter how many different ways I tried to kill it.

So I did the only thing I could.

I did what my father taught me.

I covered it up.

I got hard.

I got so hard that the man I became would never deserve her softness.

I figured knowing she would never want to be with such a miserable bastard would make it possible to finally let go.

It wouldn't be the first time I would be wrong.

Chapter One

Andi

"Maybe this isn't the right job for you," Nadine, the office manager of the vet hospital I had been working at for all of three months told me, towering over me in her canary yellow scrubs, a cat-printed lanyard hanging around her neck, her ID badge resting on her chest.

Nadine always reminded me of my sixth-grade math teacher—somewhere in her forties with her brown hair pulled severely back from her face, her eyes a little over-lined, lipstick perpetually on her teeth no matter the time of day. She was pretty with somewhat cool green eyes, and a slender figure. Her voice—when she spoke to me, at least—was rough and stern, always disapproving.

To be fair, I gave her a lot to disapprove of in such a short period of time.

I hadn't exactly been a model co-worker.

This was evidenced by the fact that I actually outranked her as the new vet on staff, but she had to come in and scold me at least once per shift for something I did or didn't do, some arcane policy that I hadn't abided by perfectly enough to suit her needs.