I’m going to soak all that sweetness up.
Consume her.
And no one is going to stand in my way—not even her.
She’s my end.
LANA
I CAN feel his gaze on me, but I pretend to ignore him. Instead, I concentrate on the beautiful little girl in front of me. Clover is the Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club princess. Daughter of the President, Sin, and his kick-ass wife, Faye, Clover is protected by all and loved by many. With jet black hair, hazel eyes, and the cutest smile, the five year old is a force to be reckoned with.
And I’m her nanny.
Today is only the second time I’m watching her, but honestly, she is a treat. It’s extremely amusing to see how this little girl has all the rough men of the MC wrapped around her little finger. Hell, I can probably learn a thing or two from her. She’s currently sitting on Arrow’s knee, waiting impatiently as Arrow pulls a piece of strawberry candy from his pocket, unwraps it, and pops it into her mouth.
Did he carry around that candy for her?
The girl is good.
“Don’t tell your mother,” I hear Arrow tell her quietly, in that gravelly voice of his.
“I won’t,” Clover replies, grinning.
I shake my head at her, amused. Arrow is Anna’s man, and the club’s vice president. I happen to think that they’re great for each other. As long as Anna is happy, then so am I, and it’s clear that she’s over-the-moon about Arrow. Feisty and strong as she is, Anna is like a happy cat when he’s around, and he’s the same. He adores her and would kill anyone who tried to hurt her. I wish I had that.
Anna’s brother, Rake, is also a club member, which is how she met Arrow and I guess how I ended up here.
The men in the Wind Dragons MC are intimidating, but they’ve only ever been nice to me, albeit a little overbearing. I know that they love Anna, and as her best friend, they also look out for me. I like to think of myself as extended family.
Anna suggested to Faye that I would be a great nanny, and more importantly, that I could be trusted. She thinks I need the money, so when Faye asked me, I accepted. Really, I just couldn’t think of a reason to refuse. But then, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it. Faye needed someone, and I liked her and wanted to help. It also gave me more time with Anna. Before I was Clover’s nanny, I usually only saw her once a week or so. So now I can see her more often, while getting paid to be here. Win-win.
And then there was Tracker. As much as I wanted to deny it, I was looking forward to seeing more of him, even if only from a distance.
Arrow stands, putting Clover down on the couch. “Gotta go, princess.”
Clover pouts. “So soon? Why?”
“Hey, I’m still here,” Tracker calls out, mock hurt in his tone.
Clover turns to Tracker. “I know, Uncle Tracker, but you don’t have candy.”
The two men both laugh, and I join in.
“I have to go and meet Anna,” he says, patting her on the head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Arrow’s brown eyes then turn to me. “You okay, Lana?”
I nod. “I’m fine.”
Why wouldn’t I be? Okay, so I look out of place here. I am out of place here. My black hair is up in a messy bun, and I have on my reading glasses, no make-up, jeans, and a loose black tank top. Truth be told, I usually look better than this on a day-to-day basis, but I’m proving to myself that I do not care if Tracker finds me attractive or not.
Nope. I do not care.
Not one bit.
And neither does he.
“Call me if you need anything,” Arrow murmurs, eyes darting between Tracker and me before leaving.
“I’m here if she needs anything,” I hear Tracker say to him in a hard voice.
I’m pretty sure I hear Arrow mutter, “That’s what I’m afraid of,” as he walks out the door. With Arrow gone, Clover runs to sit next to Tracker, taking his hand in hers. Standing there awkwardly, I shift on my feet, no idea what to do with myself. With no option but to look at him, I let my eyes take him in.
Today his shoulder length blond hair is tied up in a bun, a much nicer bun than the one I am sporting, and it looks sexy on him. But then again, he always looks sexy. He has a certain appeal to him that I just can’t escape. And I know I’m not the only one. His green eyes are steady on me and slightly narrowed. I wish I didn’t find the stubble on his face so attractive, but I do. The man belongs on a magazine cover and is well aware of his charm. He’s also a badass, dangerous biker—and the contradiction is extremely appealing.
“Clover,” Tracker says. “Why don’t you go get some coloring books and crayons?”
“Can I use one of the new ones you got me?” she asks in excitement.
“Uh, yeah!” he says, trying to match her excitement. She whoops, jumping off the couch and rushing off in search of her things.
Tracker turns to me. “Sit down, Lana,” he commands quietly.
I look around the room before I sit down on the couch opposite him. “Okay.”
“I’m not gonna bite,” he says, flashing his sharp white teeth at me in a wolfish grin.
I think he does bite. And I want him to bite me.
Shit, I’m so screwed.
“What was that thought?” he asks, amusement written all over his too-handsome-for-his-own-good face.
“Nothing,” I say with a casual shrug. I need to stop being so expressive. “Are you going to be here all day?”
Maybe I’ll take Clover out somewhere. No point sitting here and being teased with something I’ll never have.
“Yeah,” he replies, tilting his head to the side and studying me. “I live here.”
“Right,” I reply, shifting on my seat.
“How is school going?” he asks, leaning back on the couch. I’m still getting my business degree. After high school, I’d worked and helped my mom instead of jumping straight into college. Because of this, I’m twenty four and still in school. I don’t mind, though; I’m just happy to be studying something now.
“I’m on break now,” I say. “Just started.”
He nods, eyes widening. “Right. Anna told me that. I forgot.” He flicks his tongue over his bottom lip, and I can’t help but stare at it.
“So you’re going to be here every day watching Clover?”
I shake my head. “Not every day. Four days a week. While I’m on break anyway.”
I honestly don’t know why Faye wants me to look after Clover here. There are always people going in and out. Anna told me that during the day, while Clover is here, the clubhouse is a family environment and everyone is well behaved, but when night falls, all bets are off. It doesn’t explain why Faye doesn’t have me watch Clover at her house. It would be safer and quieter, in my opinion—but Faye’s the boss. I worry that maybe she doesn’t fully trust me yet and wants there to be other people around just in case.
Visiting the clubhouse does have some perks, obviously. I can stare at Tracker when he isn’t looking, sad as it sounds, and so far I find myself doing it at every opportunity. Anna is also here more often than not, so I’m looking forward to spending more time with her.
“That works,” Tracker replies. I don’t miss the way his gaze lowers to my chest, then lower, over the curve of my thighs. The tension in the room suddenly spikes. I quickly look away and am relieved when Clover comes back into the room, books and case in hand. She sits next to me and shows me all the different coloring books Tracker has bought her. I can feel Tracker’s eyes on me, but I stay focused on her. Or try to, at least.
“I want to play a game,” Clover says after fifteen or so minutes of coloring silently.
“What a great idea!” I blurt out. Tracker smirks, clearly aware of how tense I am around him.
“How about hide and seek?” he replies, glancing down at the little girl. “You go hide and I’ll come find you.”
Clover grins, then darts off the couch and into the hallway. I look back at Tracker to s
ee his gaze steady on me. “I want to ask you something.”
“What?” I ask, pushing my glasses up on the bridge of my nose.
I shift in my seat again as he lazily peruses my body from head to toe once more, his lips kicking up at the corner. “You free after you finish up here?”
Was I free? I open my mouth, then close it. “Why?”
“I want to take you for a ride,” he says, licking his lower lip.
“A ride?” I repeat slowly. My mind jumps to dirty things.
He nods, eyes flashing with amusement. “Yes. I want to take you out on the back of my bike.”
His intense stare lets me know that this means something important. I don’t understand much about his MC lifestyle, except bits and pieces I’ve seen for myself or what Anna has told me. Excitement flutters in my stomach at the thought of my arms wrapped around him, my hair blowing in the wind. But then I think about Allie, and the butterflies exit, my stomach plummeting. This is always the issue with Tracker.
He isn’t single. Even when he says he is, he isn’t. She is always there. Sometimes on the sidelines, sometimes in the forefront, but nevertheless, there.
Why does it have to be her? Anyone but her. I am not about to share him, or any man. I want a man that only has eyes for me. A simple enough request, I’d think, but proving hard to find. The fact that I have a hard time trusting men doesn’t help, either. I am one of those suffer-in-silence, keep everything to themselves type of people. I hardly ever put myself out there, which is probably why I’m still single.
“What about Allie?” I ask, curious as to what his answer will be.
Anna told me he’s on- and off-again with her, and it’s been this way for years. To me, it sounds messy. A complication I don’t need or want, no matter how drawn to him I am.
I want him, badly. But Tracker is bad news. I think about him. I dream about him. I fantasize about him. But I keep my distance. Why? Because I’m smart enough to know that we have no future. My head tells me one thing—stay away—but farther south says something else—invite him in. I get wet just at the thought of him. He has that much control over me. The wanting, will it ever end? I sure as fuck hope so.
The reality is that he probably has that effect on most women. Including Allie—that’s why I do what I can to discourage his flirting and persistence, which is getting more and more frequent and which I’m having a harder time refusing.
Tracker scowls, a look of displeasure entering his dreamy eyes. “Allie and I are over. I’m not seeing anyone right now.”
But for how long? I didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire of their relationship. While he may insist that it’s over with them, it’s clear she doesn’t think that, which suggests he’s leading her on. Why would I want a guy like that? I am worth more than that.
I am at war with myself. I can only hope and pray that my mind wins over my body.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “Ummm . . .”
I don’t know what to say. The rejection is hard to form on my lips. The sounds didn’t want to come out, my body betraying me once more.
His eyes and mouth soften, as if he senses my inner turmoil. “I thought maybe you and I could . . .”
Could what? Have sex?
Did he think I was a sure thing?
I mean, he had to know I was attracted to him, right? I can’t stop the excitement I feel at the thought of being with him. Just thinking about his touch makes me blush and makes my sensuality come alive. I want to explore that side of me, with him.
Then something occurs to me. Does he want me to be his rebound girl? The thought of that hurts. As lame as it sounds, I don’t want to be his rebound. I want to be his forever girl. His wife. His old lady, as I’ve heard Faye be called.
Yeah, I’m living in a dream world. And if Tracker knew my thoughts he would run to the other side of the country. I don’t even know if he does commitment. From what I’ve heard, he wasn’t always faithful to Allie, another strike against him. Cheating is unforgivable to me. William was the first and only cheating scum I will have anything to do with. If Tracker’s okay with sleeping around on a girl who cares about him—even if she is a massive bitch—then he’s not someone I want to waste time on.
“I don’t think so, Tracker,” I reply before he can finish his sentence, looking down as I speak. The words hurt coming out, because really all I want to do is scream Yes! My resolve hardens, and I push those thoughts away.
“Why not?” he asks quietly. “I’ve seen how you look at me.”
Yep, he knows. Of course he knows.
No wonder he thinks I’d get on the back of his bike just like that.
He knows.
And I can’t believe he just said that. Red-cheeked, I choose to ignore his comment and point towards the hallway. “Go and find her.”
He stands, but then crouches in front of me, his hands resting on both of my thighs. “We would be so fuckin’ good together, you know that, right?”
I know. We would be. While it lasted anyway.
Then I’d be left to deal with the ramifications of giving in to him.
A broken heart.
“Yeah, but for how long?” I reply, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes. “I don’t want to be just another woman to you, Tracker.”
He studies me, eyes flashing. “I don’t think I’d put in this much effort for a one-night stand, Lana.”
I think about that. What am I to him? Just a game? I don’t know. I wish I could know what was going on in his head, but there’s no way I’m ready to risk my heart with this man. I need someone I could trust, someone who I know will be faithful and loyal to me. When I stay silent, he sighs.
“Luckily, I’m a patient man,” he murmurs, sliding a finger down my cheek with a gentleness that surprises me. He stands and calls out, “You better have found a good spot, Clover, because I’m coming.”
I try and hide my grin as I watch him roam the clubhouse, looking for Clover. She must have hidden in the kitchen, because I hear laughter, his low chuckle and her high-pitched squeals, coming from there. For a second, I imagine that this is our house, and he is playing with our daughter.
Aaaand that’s why I’m a good writer. I have a huge imagination.
Shit.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
AUTHOR PHOTOGRAPH BY KRYSTA GUILLE
CHANTAL FERNANDO is a New York Times bestselling author of the novel Maybe This Time, and the Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club trilogy: Dragon’s Lair,Arrow’s Hell, and Tracker’s End. She lives in Western Australia and can be followed on Twitter and Facebook.
Visit www.authorchantalfernando.com.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR: authors.simonandschuster.com/Chantal-Fernando
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Dragon’s Lair
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Gallery Books
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Chantal Fernando
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First Gallery Books trade paperback edition June 2015
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Cover design by Patrick Kang
Cover photograph © dpaint/Shutterstock
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Fernando, Chantal.
Arrow’s hell / Chantal Fernando. — First Gallery Books trade paperback edition.
pages ; cm. — (Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club ; 2)
1. Motorcycle clubs—Fiction. 2. Motorcycle gangs—Fiction. 3. Brothers and sisters—Fiction. I. Title.
PR9619.4.F465A89 2015
823'.92—dc23
2014046244
ISBN 978-1-5011-0619-4
ISBN 978-1-5011-0622-4 (ebook)
CONTENTS
Epigraph
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Acknowledgments
Tracker’s End Excerpt
Arrow's Hell Page 24
