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PROLOGUE

CALLUP, IDAHO

PRESENT DAY

PAINTER

“Fuckin’ hell,” Horse said, looking out across the crowded clubhouse I paused, beer halfway to otta stay calm—”

That’s when I saw her

Melanie Tucker

No

This wasn’t happening Maybe I was hallucinating, because I couldn’t iodda as I stalked across the roo to red

“Hold on, son,” Picnic growled I respected the hell out of him, loved hi the Reapers MC president could’ve said to slow me down in that instant That’s because the mother of my child stood in the clubhouse doorway, eyes wide and scared She knew she’d fucked up

Standing next to her was a around? He’d wrapped his ared to him

Yeah He put his hands on my Melanie

Except she wasn’ttime Her choice, so fuck her very much But that freedom she’d wanted so badly came with one rule and she’d just broken the shit out of it No bikers Yet here she ith this cockwad asshole, soht to exist

In an MC clubhouse, no less

This was a proble fuckin’ problem That terror on her face was totally justified, because she was about to witness a goddaure of speech In ten seconds I had every intention of ripping the dick off his body, feeding it to hi it back out his ass before repeating the process

A hand wrapped aroundto cal out whatever the hell Pic was trying to co the little prick by the front of his shirt I jerked hi sound filled my ears and in the distance I heard Mel screa through my knuckles as time slowed

I love fighting

Not just winning, but the rush of energy, the sweetness of the pain, and the incredible focus that hits when your entire existence narrows to one moment of terrible purpose It’s primal and beautiful, and it’d never felt better than it did in the instant Melanie’s new boyfriend went down

I followed hi the fountain of blood exploding from his nose Fuckin’ cathartic as hell—his life was over More screa of violence

Da afraid