He couldn’t go to her yet. No matter how much he wanted to. No matter how every single muscle in his body strained and ached. He’d left her badly. Again. Hurt her, again. Shattered her hopes, again. He wanted to put it back together. To be the man she so desperately needed. She’d poured her heart out to him. She hadn’t moved on, not really. She’d given him her body. She’d trusted him, though they both knew she shouldn’t. He was no longer a free man. He had nothing to give her.
But on the slim chance that he could actually gain it, the life he’d given up nine years ago, he’d do things differently.
If he got another chance, he wouldn’t squander it.
He’d take Sandy and run and he’d spend the rest of his life trying to make things right. He’d love her the way she deserved to be loved.
He just hoped he wasn’t too late.
And that his faith in her weaselly ex’s sleuthing skills wasn’t misplaced.
Chapter 12
TRACE
The atmosphere at the club house was tense, to say the least. All the men were assembled, their Prez, Bone, right down to the prospects. Trace told Steven he could have until the end of the weekend to get the information about the rat. He was still contemplating what he was actually going to do with the fucker if he failed. It wasn’t like he was actually going to break his knee caps. Maybe he’d bring Tommy around with him and put the fear of god into Steven. At least his secondary objective, to scare the guy away from Sandra, would be achieved.
Judging from the wild expression in Bone’s eyes, his pinched features, his too thin lips pressed into an even thinner line, shit might go down before Trace got a chance to question Steven. It was Saturday night and Trace knew what was coming.
The men were only ever assembled like this for one reason.
They were going to war.
Bone slowly walked around the room, his eyes searching the faces of all the other men assembled. There were twenty-two of them. Trace wondered how many of them would come back alive.
If they went to war against Anders and his men and something happened to him, he’d never get a chance to tell Sandra how he felt. That he’d loved her for a decade. That he’d probably loved her his whole damn life, since the first minute he’d set eyes on her, he was done, like all along they were meant to be. It was the ultimate irony they’d spent so many years apart when he felt like she was the only one for him.
Too late.
He’d realized all that sappy shit way too fucking late.
He was here, Bone circling the room. Their Prez wasn’t a good looking guy. He was approaching fifty, his once dark hair smattered with gray. He was big and burly, but he’d put on weight over the years and had a paunch that overhung his belt. Trace couldn’t say for sure, but rumor had it that Bone was also a good looking man once upon a time, but the years hadn’t exactly been kind. Hard and fast living, booze, women, drugs, and fights, had all taken their toll. A jagged scar cut through Bone’s left eyebrow and down along his cheek. He was a fearsome man now and not just because of his intense stare or his menacing size and domineering presence. People feared him because he’d become unpredictable.
“As you all know,” Bone started, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the clubhouse lounge. “John Anders and his men have stolen something that belongs to me. To all of us. He thinks he can make a move on our territory, push us out. He’s wrong. We’ve never been weak. He misjudged his enemy when he took our shipment.”
“You’re sure it was him who took the shipment?” Snake asked. The guy was tall and thin and had long dark hair. Trace wasn’t sure how he got the name Snake, but he did know the guy had been with Bone since the beginning. If anyone wanted to step up and fill the VP hole that Big Ted’s death created, it probably would have been Snake. None of them were that stupid though. They all knew that Bone was the ultimate authority in the place and he didn’t exactly need a damn second in command.
“I’m sure,” Bone snarled. “Entirely fucking sure. We all know it was Anders. Who else would it be? He’s wanted to make a move, expand his business, for years now. He finally got brave enough. We’re going to teach him a lesson. Put him back in his place. Take back what’s ours and take back control. No one’s shoving us out anytime soon.”
Snake rubbed his hand over his grizzled chin. A scraggly beard grew there, weeks old, but it was still patchy and bald in spots. “If it wasn’t Anders, then we’re starting a war that we might not be able to win. We can’t fight whoever took those drugs and Anders at the same time. We need to be sure.”
Bone stalked across the room and stood right in front of Snake. They were about the same height, but Bone had at least a hundred pounds on the much skinnier, wiry Snake. “You doubting the word of your Prez?”
“No.” Snake remained unfazed, a hard thing to do when a guy as mean as Bone was staring a person down. They all knew what happened to the last guy who dared voice dissent. Bone branded him a traitor and murdered him in cold blood. “I just think we have to be sure. We have to have evidence. We might be stronger than Anders, but we aren’t stronger than Anders and the Russians or the Mexicans or whoever took those drugs. If it wasn’t Anders, then we’re fucking ourselves, starting a war and wasting lives while our drugs get moved further out of our reach. Anders might have allies. He has underworld connections. I don’t want to get involved until we’re sure. I care about this club. I’d give my life for any one of my brothers. You all know that.” Snaked glanced around the room and there were murmurs of agreement throughout the ranks. “This place is my home and these men are my family. I don’t want to see it all go to waste because we acted hastily. If Anders did take the drugs, then we need to be careful about how we approach the attack. He’ll expect us to hit him, so we can’t be predictable. The fewer lives lost, the more powerful we remain.”
Tommy, of all people, cleared his throat. Bone looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. His face was an angry crimson. “I agree. We can’t just go into this half-cocked or there’s a good chance we’ll all wind up dead and then what club do we have left to defend? Anders or whoever took those drugs, they win if we go out and get ourselves slaughtered.”
Bone whirled around again as mumbles of assent rippled through the room. In the past year, they’d lost four men. Four. Although that included Big Ted. Still. Four was too many. They were only halfway through the damn year.
“You seem to have forgotten that I’m the President here,” Bone growled. He stabbed a finger into his thick chest. “What I say goes. If I give the order to roll out tonight, you fucking roll out, no questions asked.”
“Of course,” Snake agreed. “We all know you give the orders. I was just saying that we have to be smart about this. We’re all angry. We all want revenge. We want to get what’s ours back, but maybe we should take a little time to be sure.”
Bone let out a growl of outrage and turned on Trace. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead and the hairs on his nape stood on end. “It’s time for you to do your job. Get out there and find out if Anders took our fucking drugs. You have forty-eight hours and we roll out.”
Trace nodded. On the inside he was a mess. He already knew for certain that Anders had the drugs. It was the general assumption and he’d done some digging when he’d done his research on Steven The Weasel. It was the whole reason he’d figured out that Steven might be his way out. If he delivered the rat to Bone, he might have a bargaining tool. The rat would bring their whole organization down. First a lost shipment of drugs, then an attack that could wipe them all out. They were all at risk. It undermined Bone’s place in the world. It made him look like a fool, like he couldn’t control his own men.
It was the only bargaining chip he’d ever have and he was all fucking in.
He nodded at Bone. He didn’t wait to be dismissed. He already was.
He stalked out of the club and the warm night greeted him as he entered the compound. His nerves were a fucking mess. He needed this to
work. Everything depended on it. His future. His life. The lives of his brothers. Sandy.
If he could get free, he could, for the first time, see himself with her.
Freedom. He thought he’d found it when he entered the club all those years ago. He was so fucking mistaken.
He rode through the gates, locked them behind him, and rolled out onto the street. It wasn’t long before he hit the freeway, no helmet, hair streaming out behind him. Fuck, he loved the feel of his bike between his thighs, the low rumble eating up the road.
He’d once thought that was as close as he’d ever come to finding his soul.
He was wrong about that too.
Chapter 13
SANDRA
After Sandra made the decision to swear off men, a girls night out was exactly what she needed. When one of her friends, Amy, called and invited her right after Steven left, Sandra gladly agreed to go.
They’d done the whole movie and dinner thing. It was like a club for single ladies and she was happy to be a part of it. She’d arranged for a baby sitter for Alex. It was nice to have a night out that was all for her. She didn’t have to worry about getting overly dressed up, about trying to impress someone or make a good impression, about her body, about her clothes, about her hair and makeup. She felt safe being out with friends. It was the best date night she’d had in a long time.
The best part- she didn’t have to worry about some dude trying to get in her pants after.
It made her wonder why she hadn’t done it a long time ago. Not the friends thing. The avowedly single thing. She could take care of herself. She’d never doubted that. She and Alex didn’t have a lot, but they were fine.
She’d just needed that closure. She’d needed to see Trace one more time, to let him hurt her and break her heart all over again, to remind her that he was dead-end. He offered no future. He hadn’t a decade before and he wasn’t going to now, not even when he knew he had a son.
She once thought they were like strands of a rope, braided together, destined to be together. She was wrong. The link she’d felt to him even after all those years was completely severed.
It was his fault. She did blame him. He could have made a different decision all those years ago. He could have chosen her. He picked the lifestyle he was currently entrenched in. Even if he wanted to leave and he couldn’t, he was probably right. She and Alex were better off without him.
Sandra pulled up in her parking spot, eager to see Alex. She trusted Jenna, a fourteen year old girl who lived on the top floor of the apartment building. She was responsible, had taken a babysitting course, and was young enough that she wasn’t into partying or guys yet. She and Alex had fun the few times Amy looked after him in the past.
She shouldered her purse and pulled the door handle. Sandra unfolded herself, careful not to bang her head on the low door pillar like she’d done after the movie. It was something she did a few times every single week and she hated it.
She sensed the presence behind her before she saw it. A shadow, dark and menacing loomed over her. Before she could scream, a hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Her entire body went into fight mode. She tried to thrash away from her assailant, but he slung an arm around her shoulders and slammed her tight against his chest. He kept his other hand hard.
Twisting, Sandra tried to ram her shoulder into the assailant’s stomach or go for his throat, maybe get low enough to ram him in the groin, but she halted when she realized the strength in that arm wrapped around her was familiar. Even the hand at her mouth was one she knew. She inhaled sharply and she knew him immediately by the scent of gasoline and leather and the deeper, sharper scent of man that was and always had been, unique.
Trace dragged her across the parking lot into the shadows of the building. The grass was already dewy and wet, since it was after midnight.
“Where did you just get back from?” he growled low in her ear. His breath hit the nape of her neck, warm and erotic. She shivered and hated her body for its traitorous reaction.
He lowered his hand a fraction and relaxed his hold. Sandra spun, the rage building up inside of her. “What the fuck?” she hissed. “Was it really necessary to grab me and haul me out of my car and into the shadows? We could have talked in the parking lot, like normal people.”
“We’re not normal people, you and I. We both know that.”
“Maybe you aren’t,” she corrected. Annoyingly enough, a smile played with the corners of his lips. “And you probably know exactly where I’ve been. You’re called Trace for a reason. Anyway, it’s none of your business.”
“It’s my business when you go out and leave my son alone.”
“Alone?” Sandra scoffed. “Are you fucking insane? He’s with a babysitter. I wouldn’t leave my eight-year-old kid at home to fend for himself.”
Trace had the grace to look ashamed. “Sorry.” He unhanded her and she took a shaky step back, glad to be away from him and his heat and the confusing cascade of sensation that plagued her body.
“He’s not your son,” she spat, just because she was still pissed about being manhandled away from her car. She wasn’t a mean spirited person even when she wanted to be and the flash of pain in Trace’s eyes sent a wave of guilt through her. “I- uh- fuck. Don’t you know how much you scared me? I thought someone was trying to get my purse. You could have hurt me. I didn’t know it was you and I thought you were going to.”
“I’m sorry. I just- I- I didn’t want anyone to see you with me. Not yet.”
“What do you mean not yet?” Her voice came out just as guarded as she felt. A cold chill snaked up her spine.
“I- there’s something I have to tell you. I- I can’t give you details yet, but I may have found a way out. Out of the club. For good.”
“A way out?” Sandra’s hands shot to her hips before she realized the pose made her look like a bossy old lady version of her mom and dropped her hands back to her sides.
“Yes. A way out.” Trace nodded. His face remained impassive, but his eyes shone with hope.
It made her heart ache. She couldn’t do this. Not again. She’d promised herself that if Trace ever came back, she’d send him packing. He’d given up all rights to her life ten years ago, then he’d come back and shattered her all over again. She couldn’t let it keep happening. She had to keep herself safe and keep Alex safe. Not that Trace would ever hurt his son, but she wouldn’t be much of a mother if she kept holding on, pathetically, hoping for that one elusive chance that was never going to come along. They were never going to work out. End of story.
“That’s- that’s great,” Sandra stammered. She didn’t want to hurt Trace. She just had to stay firm. “I mean, I never really thought that anyone would enjoy that kind of living. Or I guess, people do enjoy it. I just don’t understand how.” She swallowed hard, aware that she was nervously rambling and that she was twisting her hands together in front of her waist. “I… I’m glad for you,” she tacked on, lamely.
Trace’s eyes bore through her, straight to her soul. “No. You don’t understand,” he slowly corrected, like her skull was too thick to truly comprehend why he was there. “If I can get out, I’m coming for you. For you and Alex and we’ll leave. We’ll go somewhere and start a new life.”
“What?” Sandra stepped back. It was worse than she thought. “Start a new life?” She frowned. “It’s too late for that, Trace. We can’t just pick up where we left off nine years ago. I don’t want to leave. I have my family outside the city. Alex has his friends, his school his- his whole life is here. I have my job…”
“Those are terrible reasons and you know it,” Trace said evenly. “I never stopped thinking about you, Sandy. You know that.”
“Then you should have picked me in the first place,” Sandra snapped. “You should have picked me instead of bad men you call brothers and a piece of shit who commands your allegiance and your entire life. You gave everything to that club. You gave all of yourself. You chose it instead of me. You have to
live with that decision. Whether you thought you weren’t good enough, whatever. I don’t care. It’s over now and it’s done. You were right when you said we can’t go back. There isn’t a do-over. Life doesn’t work that way.”
“You sure seemed to want a second chance a few days ago.”
“I might have,” Sandra admitted. “I might have lost my mind temporarily. I might have believed that after so long if you ever came back, that I could open my heart again, that I could believe in you and in us, but I was wrong. That shit is for fantasies. We don’t live in the pages of fiction. This is the real fucking world. In the real world, things don’t work out just because someone spends years thinking about it. Families don’t magically stay together. Things don’t work out. That’s the way it is. Real life is hard work. It’s shitty and it’s unfair.”
“No.” Trace shook his head. “I refuse to believe that. You’re saying those things because I hurt you. I walked out on you because I had to. I needed time to think. I couldn’t stay with you and promise you the world when I had no way to give it to you. That wouldn’t be fair to you. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us.”
Sandra wrapped her arms around her chest to protect herself, to keep her bleeding heart intact and to ward off the words Trace wielded like a knife against her. She so desperately wanted to believe him, but she damn well knew better. She couldn’t expose Alex to a man who walked in and out of their lives. Trace wasn’t the same man he was nine years ago. He’d joined a motorcycle club. He probably had done things she couldn’t imagine. Things she didn’t want to imagine. She couldn’t trust him. She couldn’t go away with him. She couldn’t let him back into her life and into her heart in any capacity because she knew, despite all, she wouldn’t be strong enough to resist him.
“No. I just- I can’t. I’m glad that you want to get out of that lifestyle. I’m sure nothing good will come of it and I always thought you’d wind up dead. Sometimes I wondered. Actually, I wondered all the time. There was no sometimes. I thought about you every single day. I wasn’t with you. You left me nine years ago, but I saved myself for you. I dated on and off, here and there, reluctantly, when Alex was older, but my heart was never in it. It belonged to you. It was always yours. I- I realized though, when you walked out on me, that I’m done. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t trust you. All you’ve ever done was leave. You never chose me. Whether you could or you couldn’t, it doesn’t really make a difference. I can’t do it again. I’m not willing to do it again.”
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