You’d think being the daughter of the Road Kings MC’s president would protect you from everyone, and that no one would even try to hurt you or fuck you over.

You’d be wrong.

It made you a target to all kinds of torment and hell. Then again, as the son of the Fedorov Pakhan, you could do whatever you wanted, because no one would take on the brotherhood.

And that’s what he’d done. He’d hurt me and fucked me over, ending the torment by sticking a knife through my heart.

All of the whispered promises and plans, the secret of us that we’d kept until the time was right to share it with everyone, the care he’d treated me with, the trust I’d given him, and the walls I’d dropped to finally let someone in.

All of it was a lie, and that acid ate at me with every step away from them.

Chapter One

Taras

Now…

I hadn’t been to the Road Kings compound since the day I’d had to come to invite Hunter and Bruce to the wedding, having deliberately stayed as far away from Renegade Falls as possible afterward. It hadn’t been hard to do because I lived half an hour away, but it ate at me every day.

Not seeing her. Not breathing the same air as her. Not holding her.

I’d been trying to figure out how to tell Nell that I was marrying Donna, and every time I saw her, I did it intending to reveal the secret and explain why. It was the why that mattered the most, but I could never get the words out that would have ended us before I was ready. I was a selfish fuck, and the way she’d eventually found out made me feel like the biggest piece of shit in the world.

The look on her face tortured me, and the fact I hadn’t been able to find her afterward to talk to her, ate away at me every day.

She’d blocked my number, changed her own, and then she’d moved house. And no matter what, I couldn’t go to her. I could probably have gotten one of the guys to do it or asked her brother, but in the end, I’d accepted that I had to leave her alone, because doing that would bring questions I couldn’t answer.

Now we needed the MC's help with an in-house problem we had going on, so I was finally back at the place where it had all gone down. And she wasn’t here either.

We were standing outside the Club in the forecourt, discussing the information I’d just given Bruce and Hunter. The sun was fierce and almost making me sweat under my suit, but this was a conversation that couldn’t go any further, and the walls had ears.

“Son of a bitch,” Bruce hissed, the muscle in his jaw pulsing. “This is fucked up. And you don’t have any clue who’s doing it?”

We had a rough idea, but we still needed their help to get to them. “No, whoever is giving them this information knows our Bratva and the MC. We’re going through all of ours, and you need to do the same with yours.”

Hunter was still looking down at the photos I’d given him of the member of the Road Kings Kentucky chapter, who’d been partially skinned, and hung from a tree with a message slashed into the skin of his groin.

“I’ll fucking kill them.”

It was the fourth man to be killed—two from the Bratva, two from the MC.

This time, they’d left the message. Fedorov and Ham, the Ham being short for Bruce’s last name, Hamilton. Our man had been in the area investigating the killer when he’d found the body and notified us.

Right now, he was relaying the information to the president of the Kentucky chapter, and my father, the Fedorov pakhan, had told me to do the same with Bruce. The closer our families were during this, the stronger we’d be.

I vaguely heard an engine getting closer as we discussed it, a deep growling one that, when I turned around to look, didn’t belong to a bike like I’d have expected.

The men heard it, too, and Hunter quickly put the photos in his back pocket as he looked toward its source.

Turning fully to see what the problem was in case there was an issue, I watched as a new Mustang pulled into a space near where some of the Club’s vehicles were parked. It was a sweet ride if you liked Mustangs, and it didn’t look out of place here, aside from the fact it was a new one and not a vintage model.

But it was the blonde getting out of it that got my full attention. I’d recognize that hair anywhere, and it made my gut clench, and my heart hurt.

It had been two hundred and three days since I’d seen her. Twenty-nine weeks. Seven and a half months. And I was finally getting my fix of her.

Tags: Mary B. Moore Road Kings MC And Underworlds Romance
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