Twin Flames (The Raven Boys Series Book 1)

by M. A. Lee

  Copyright

  Twin Flames is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  TWIN FLAMES: A NOVEL

  Copyright © 2018 by M. A. Lee

  All rights reserved.

  Editing by KP Editing

  Cover Design by KP Designs

  Published by Kingston Publishing Company

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Playlist

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  This story is for anyone who has even fallen in love and given up everything and everyone in the process. Sometimes, blood isn’t always thicker than water and family can come in the most unexpected forms.

  Playlist

  Satellite by Silhouette

  Gorilla by Bruno Mars

  Element by Matthew Mayfield

  Take Your Time by Sam Hunt

  Sirens by Pearl Jam

  No Ordinary Love by Deftones

  I Know Places by Taylor Swift

  Roll the Dice by Finley Quaye

  Hush by Angie Aparo

  Never Never by Korn

  Sour Girl by Stone Temple Pilots

  Break on Me by Keith Urban

  Amazed by Lonestar

  Dead Inside by Muse

  It’s Been Awhile by Staind

  Moonshine by Bruno Mars

  Prologue

  Jameson

  I had never been the type of guy you would take home to your parents.

  Fuck that.

  No, I was the guy you banged in your car while your parents thought you were studying at the library. I didn’t have the clean-cut look most parents preferred. Nah, I liked my hair messy, jeans loose, and tattoos large.

  I was the leather jacket wearing, bike riding, badass that did what he wanted when he wanted.

  Hell, if anything, I was a parents’ worst nightmare which made me even more irresistible to every female I encountered.

  I didn’t do relationships and I definitely didn’t fall in love. Well, that part is a lie. The purr of a tight Harley Davidson engine would give me a hard-on faster than the desperate girls that dropped their panties in the clubhouse for me. That was my life, my story, and I loved the way I lived.

  ****

  “You do know that the only reason girls like you, is because you drive a motorcycle, right?” my brother Drake joked as he watched the blonde I had just screwed in the back of the clubhouse wave my way.

  He ran a hand over his thick beard and eyed a new waitress at the clubhouse. Drake was a year older than me and liked to think he could boss me around. But, we both knew no one told me what to do.

  “I don’t care. We both got a ride of our life,” I smirked, as I tip the beer bottle back and take a swig of the cool liquid.

  “Hey, I didn’t think any of the Raven boys were old enough to drink,” Gary laughed as he walked past where Drake and I were sitting on his way to the bar.

  “We aren’t,” I smiled as I tipped my bottle in his direction.

  Gary just shook his head as he saddled up on the leather stool.

  We were sitting inside the Raven’s Clubhouse, the bar and more importantly, the place where every biker in our small town hung out. I was born and raised in Hollows Cove, a small town nestled just outside of Lexington, Kentucky. As a Raven, I had a reputation to uphold. Even at sixteen, I was expected to be a member of the club and ride whenever needed. We weren’t just a club, we were a family. A group of men and women who rode bikes for causes, not just terrorizing town. Sure, at one-point, certain members of our club had their fair share of fights and run-in’s with the wrong side of the law, but everyone went straight once my gramps took over.

  Well, at least we are now. When my dad met my mom, she had sworn she would never marry him until he quit the club. But, once a biker, always a biker. So, dad did the next best thing; he compromised. Dad changed the way of the club and instead of picking fights and running drugs across state lines, they changed to riding for charities, escorting funerals for fallen soldiers and law enforcement officers, and barricading riots.

  When mom died of cancer when I was four, dad swore once again he would continue to uphold the Raven Clubhouse. And he did, at least until he died only a few years later leaving my brothers and myself left to figure out this cold, heartless bitch of a world ourselves.

  Falling back to reality, I shook off the memories of my parents. An eruption of cheers echoed from the pool hall just beside the bar. I watched a Frankie lifted up his pool stick high into the air as he sank another striped ball into a corner pocket. Those were the sounds we lived for.

  “Dude, you really are an ass,” Drake joked as another girl who had been my conquest last night, slinked past me.

  I didn’t even look her way, hell I hadn’t even seen her until he pointed her out to me. “She should know better, I didn’t hook up with a chick more than once.”

  Laughing, Drake just shook his head. “One of these days Jameson, you are going to meet a girl just like dad did. Fall in love. And, she is going to rock your world.”

  Taking another sip of my beer, I forced a smile. “I sure as hell hope not. Love isn’t for me,” I stated, even though somewhere deep down in the pits of my dark heart, I secretly hoped he was right.

  1

  Ivy

  5 Years Later

  The overwhelming realization of knowing I am out of my element almost knocks me on my ass. This is completely wrong. I know that, yet, I still find myself standing in hell as I look around at the unfamiliar faces. Their eyes are watching me like a train wreck, scrutinizing us. While I am having a mini panic attack, they are laughing and talking amongst themselves. We piled into the small bar with all eyes locked on us. We definitely didn’t look like we belonged and now, as I stood still like a statue, I was painfully aware of what an idiot I appeared to look like. Everything about my appearances screamed I was in the wrong place. From my light blue sundress and cowboy boots to my curled hair. I didn’t match the short skirts, leather, and tattoos that seemed to be the normal attire. Shoving past me, Lacy strutted over to the bartender with an air of confidence surrounding her. She brushed her long, strawberry red hair behind her shoulder as she announced her order. Her tight jeans and even tighter hot pink tank top accentuated her curves perfectly. The bartender, an older man with a long, dark beard and tattoo’s covering every inch of skin displayed, only smirked at her as she began to make her margarita on the rocks. Watching, I felt my mouth fall open as I still stood in the doorway. In contra
st, I was the complete opposite of Lacy in every way imaginable. My long caramel colored hair flowed down to the center of my back and my five-foot-five frame was thin, not voluptuous and screaming of sex appeal like Lacy’s. My hazel green eyes were plain, not sparkling like Lacy’s. All my life I had been shielded from places just like this. They all seemed like wild myths or rock star fairy tales that were shared, but that you knew somewhere in the back of your mind weren’t real. Only, this was real. I was suddenly aware that all eyes were locked on Lacy and not me. In that moment, I never felt so happy to be invisible.

  Now, standing in an unfamiliar place, I felt that same tug deep inside me that told me I didn’t belong. Everything about this place, and the people inside, screamed for me to get the hell out. Glancing around, the black walls glowed from the neon signs and electric paintings of motorcycles that scattered the space. I inhaled sharply, preparing myself to slowly back up, when I felt a push from behind as a group of men and women wearing leather jackets and scowls on their faces shoved me through the doorway and into the small biker bar. I watched as they made their way over to an area that contained four pool tables with a crowd of people surrounding. Everyone welcomed them with smiles and high-fives. Inside, I was smiling at how nice it must be to have that many people to love you. But, I couldn’t think about that now. I had made a choice to leave my life and the people in it behind.

  The sounds of a heavy metal band blasted through the speakers, which hung above me, drowning out the conversations taking place. The sudden noise startled me back to reality. Thankfully, the loud thumping base from a Metallica song hid the growing beating of my heart, which I felt would jump out of my chest at any moment.

  “Hey, perk up,” a voice carries over the loud music, jolting me from my own thoughts.

  “Huh?” I asked, turning to face my best friend Lacy.

  “You look like you are either about to faint or kill someone,” she teases, as she takes in the scene before us.

  “I’m fine,” I lie. “I am just taking it all in.”

  Well, at least that part was true. My best friend Lacy had been begging me to try out this new bar with her and after becoming frustrated with listening to her whining, I decided to go. “Let’s go get a drink,” Lacy said as she began to walk back through the crowd again. In my own daze, I hadn’t even seen her approach me and just as fast as she had arrived, she was gone again.

  “Get your ass over here,” Lacy yelled, as she patted the empty barstool next to hers.

  Sucking in a heavy breath, I forced myself to walk further into this smoky bar.

  I wasn’t sure why I had agreed to come with Lacy tonight. I normally spent my nights at home in the apartment we shared near campus. I was a twenty-one-year-old college student and as straight-laced as they come. I was the good kid, the girl who never disobeyed, never skipped a curfew in high school or drank alcohol or smoked or tried drugs. I was the opposite of Lacy, who in her younger years had pushed every boundary placed in front of her. Or at least that’s what she had told me. The only reason we became friends was that we were forced together our freshman year of college as roommates in our small dorm. We shared a hatred of the dorms and of most the girls living around us. We had decided to rent an apartment together the next year and had been friends ever since. I had hidden myself behind my books and the crowds of girls at the private prep school I had attended in high school. I was always afraid to push myself to be the center of the stage. Somehow, Lacy saw in me something she liked, and our friendship had only flourished over the last few years.

  As I made my way up to the bar, I pushed past several sweaty guys that smelled like whiskey and leather. Finally walking over to Lacy, I sighed.

  Seeing me, Lacy smiled. “This place is awesome,” Lacy beamed. “I really like the music and the bartender said the band is supposed to be epic,” she said.

  Standing in the center of the crowded room, I watched as a band began to set up the stage for live music. The loud, hard rock music blared around us and I hoped the band would be better than whatever was playing now.

  “How did you hear about the band?” I asked. I realized at that moment that I had never asked her where she learned about this place. It wasn’t the typical college bar where we usually hung out and it was far from campus, located on the far north side of town.

  Taking another sip of her drink, Lacy tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Her blue eyes sparkling as she glanced from the stage and then back to me. “Funny story,” she began, and I groaned out loud. “A guy in my Sociology class gave me a flyer for the band. I guess he knows the drummer,” she shrugged.

  “So, you dragged me clear across town on a Thursday night because some guy gave you a flyer?” I asked.

  I knew my voice sounded shrill, but I couldn’t help it. I grew up with strict rules and upscale standards. Never in my life had I ventured into a place like this.

  Suddenly, everything seemed more exciting. Realizing that my parents would absolutely hate this place made me start to love it.

  “Yes, just relax and have fun,” Lacy stated, playfully shoving my arm.

  With a smile now forming on my face, I decided to just go with the flow and enjoy the night. Grabbing her drink out of her hand, I took a big gulp

  “That’s my girl,” Lacy cheered as I allowed the alcohol to take effect.

  “We have no business being here,” I screamed over the loud music.

  “Relax,” Lacy said, waving off my worry. She was watching the bartender fill shot glasses with more whiskey and I rolled my eyes as she winked when he caught her staring. Lacy’s confidence was either going to get her laid or us killed—I wasn’t sure which tonight.

  “Lacy, this is a biker bar. We don’t drive motorcycles and we are so far from campus, I have no idea where we are exactly,” I whined. Even though I felt excitement about being here, the logical side of my brain was still screaming for us to get the hell out of here.

  I knew I was getting on her nerves, but I didn’t care. She had forced me to come with her and I knew she needed to hear how terrible and dangerous this idea was. For Lacy, she loved to push the boundaries and explore the world around her.

  “You just need a drink of your own. There are some hot guys in here,” she said, waving her arms around the room.

  Grabbing her hand, I tried to stop her. “Are you crazy? Everyone in here is already looking at us like we are insane. Please stop drawing more attention to us,” I yelled. “Besides, when have you ever been into guys with tattoos?” I asked.

  The bartender chuckled as he watched us. “You girls have never been to a biker bar before, have you?” he asked, leaning his arms on the dark, cherry wood bar.

  “No, but I like what I see,” Lacy said, biting her bottom lip while leaning closer to him, her boobs threatening to pop out of her tight shirt.

  “What’s your name?” the bartender asked. His leather vest was open, revealing a rock-hard set of abs underneath. Tattoos snaked down his arms and a fierce beard covered his strong face. I had to admit, he wasn’t my type, but he was hot.

  “Lacy. What’s yours,” she asked, swirling the tiny black straw around in her drink.

  “I’m Drake. I own this bar with my three younger brothers Jameson, Micah, and Brody,” he said, pointing up to a picture above the bar.

  Glancing up, I spotted a large photo of four guys, Drake included standing in front of this same bar—Raven’s Clubhouse. One guy wore a plaid shirt that was tight on his large muscular arms. He had a thick head of dark hair and serious eyes. Another guy, who looked much younger than the others, had on loose fitted jeans that hung low on his hips. He had long, brown hair that hung dangerously close to his eyes. His naughty smirk screamed sex appeal. Finally, my eyes landed on another brother with jet black hair, tight jeans, a leather jacket, and smoldering dark eyes. His sharp jaw was set tight and he was eyeing the camera like he either wanted to fuck it or kill it; either way something about him mesmerized me.

/>   “Damn, Ivy. You are practically drooling over that picture,” Lacy laughed.

  “Shut up,” I snapped. “I am just looking.”

  My eyes focused on the neon sign above the bar that read, Raven’s Clubhouse. That name made me curious.

  Without thinking, I blurted out, “Why the name, Raven’s Clubhouse?”

  I wanted to smack myself. I wanted out of here, not to start up a conversation with this guy. Lacy only smiled over at me, beaming with excitement as she knew I was mortified.

  Drake smiled as he began to talk. “My name is Drake Raven and my dad and grandfather owned this biker bar before… well before my brothers and I were born. It started out as a small clubhouse for the bikers in town, but after my dad and grandfather died, my brothers and I turned it into a bar,” he finished talking and glanced up at the photo again.

  “So, you own this bar and you are a biker, that is so hot,” Lacy practically moaned.

  Just as I was about to tell Lacy it was time to go, the entrance door opened again, and three guys walked into the bar. Instantly, my eyes were drawn to one guy in particular. The light streaming in from the parking lot seemed to illuminate his strong face, like a spotlight had been cast upon him. He looked like a dark angel. He ran a hand through his messy dark hair and his dark eyes looked around until they landed on mine. Giving me a slight smirk, the man had sex appeal pouring off him in waves. I swear I felt my knees go weak.

  I knew I was staring, probably even drooling as my mouth fell open looking at him, but I was too drunken by his aurora to even care.

  Carefully, he glided further into the bar, his black leather jacket perfectly moving with his strides. He had on a tight white shirt that stuck to his perfect abs and his jeans fit in all of the right places. He held a black helmet in his left arm and I knew instantly he was a Raven boy. He looked a lot like Drake, only younger.

  The other two guys must have been Raven boys too, they all had similar dark hair and tight jawlines. Walking past me, I continued to stare until he reached the far end of the bar. He greeted Drake and they slapped hands.