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"I haven't gotten over the fact that I was neverAnd there's my house I have to decide what to do with it I don't like the idea of giving it up"

"You can't even walk into it It isn't good for a house to stand empty Especially here"

"You're not going to railroad me, Joshua"

He could see it on her face That love That softness Sweetness All for hi toto have one hell of a night with her trying to hold out and hi her his way He couldn't wait

Keep reading for an excerpt from

JUDGMENT ROAD

The first book in the new Torpedo Ink series by Christine Feehan

Available January 2018 from Jove

THE wind blew off the sea as the three Harleysturns and hit the straight stretch on Highway 1 running parallel to the ocean The night ell under way, a fact that Savva "Reaper" Pajari ell aware of He had to report to the president of his club, Czar, the moment they arrived back in Caspar, but time didn't matter for that Even if Czar was at his home in Sea Haven, tucked in close to his wife, Reaper would just hit the roof and clih the bedroomHe'd done it more than once

He lived for two things: riding free and fighting He needed to feel solidhis body, tapping into that well of ice that covered every emotion That swift explosion of violence and sweet pain as fists connected was his life, and had been his life since he was five Now he needed to stay sharp somehow, in this new bullshit direction the club had taken

He rode along the highway, aware of the others on either side of him Brothers, some for over thirty years Men he counted on Men he called family Still,

he was apart from them and he knew it, even if they didn't He turned his head toward the ocean Waves sprayed up into the air, rushing over rocks and battering at the cliffs So him away, little by little

His soul had gone so long ago that he couldn't re There wasn't a place on his body without a scar He had another to add from this last trip He also would have to have Ink tat his back, threein the roots of the tree on his back

Viktor Prakenskii, the man known as Czar, was the best man he knew Reaper's job was to stand in front of Czar, his self-appointed task fro now, he didn't know any other way of life He stood in front of all his brothers and sisters--in Torpedo Ink, his club He was proud to wear the club colors He'd die for those colors and still detested any mission he ran if he had to take them off

They turned off theto the town of Caspar, where they'd set up honed their coing co on the building, turning it into their clubhouse It housedroom--known as the chapel--and a kitchen They shared bathroo room Czar had insisted each of them purchase a home nearby He wanted those roots put down deep

Reaper didn't give a da as he could defend his club and their president, he was fine The co on forty-eight hours without sleep He'd stitched up the wound in his side hi a piss-poor job of it too, but all he'd had was a little whiskey to disinfect it, and that had burned like hell It still did

They rode up to the compound and Storm and Keys parked their bikes while he scanned the lot Either Czar was home or at the bar Reaper was fairly certain he'd be at the bar waiting for a report He didn't like to disturb his wife, Blythe, or their four adopted children Reaper didn't shut his bike down as he waited for the others to turn to him

"Goin' to find Czar," he said, unnecessarily, but they were looking at hi He didn't like stupid shit, like the formalities that seemed so important to others He didn't care if people liked him; in fact, he preferred they stay the hell away, except for his brothers, who understood him and made it clear they expected him to at least talk once in a while

"I can report in," Keys offered "You could use the downtime"

Reaper shook his head "Won't be able to sleep right away I have to check on him anyway You kno I am"

"Want company?" Storm asked

He shook his head "Not necessary Savage will be with him, probably a few others Get soe" Pajari was his birth brother Like Reaper, he acted as sergeant at ar Czar at all times Between the two men, they had their president covered around the clock whether he liked it or not "I already texted Czar ere comin' in ere an hour out"

He was certain if he did that, Czar would go to the bar rather than have Reaper come to his home--exactly what Reaper wanted It was the new bartender Reaper didn't like anything out of the ordinary He didn't trust it The wo out of the ordinary Code could find dirt on anyone, but he hadn't found a single trace of her anywhere She worked for cash, under the table She wore designer jeans, but she drove a beat-up car on its last leg, rust breaking through the paint The fucking thing sine over

Torpedo Ink had a garage up and running Did she take her car there to get it fixed? Hell, no She drove off every night thinking no one knehere she was going That was the hell of it She drove back toward Fort Bragg, took Highway 20 and turned off at the Egg Taking Station, a caround in the Jackson Demonstration Forest Why the fuck would a classy woman bartend in a biker bar, drive a beat-up Honda Civic older than she was, and be ca? It made no sense He didn't like puzzles, and Anya Rafferty was not only a puzzle, but one big headache

Reaper had watched her for over a month Five weeks and three days, to be precise He'd learned she was a hard worker She listened to people, remembered their naet good tips, but not enough to cause fights She was generous with the waitresses, sharing tips she didn't have to share She was careful and guarded yet gave the illusion she was open She was kind to those less fortunate

He'd watched her give a homeless ht him coffee and a meal Twice she'd spent et food or shoes for so on the streets She seemed to have an affinity for the homeless, and he was certain she knew all of them by nas even though she couldn't have had more than a couple of hours of sleep

She didn't flinch around the bikers, but it was obvious she wasn't from their world and didn't have a clue how to fit in She took her cues from Czar and sole question, but she sent him a few shy smiles, which he didn't return He'd spent more time in the bar in the five weeks she'd been there than he'd ever spent in a bar in his life

Reaper glanced away frohts shining through the dark from the banks of s His heart accelerated His cock jerked hard in his jeans That was unacceptable, and that hy the woo

Everyone in his club had been taught to be in complete control of their bodies at all times They had been beaten, starved, tortured and had unspeakable things done to the machines He felt very little emotion and certainly not physical attractions The bitches partying hard, getting it on with anyone and everyone, did nothing for hih a room full of half-naked or naked women and his body didn't so much as stir

But one look at Anya RaffertyListening to the sound of her voice Her fucking laugh The way all that hair fell around her face like a dark cloud A waterfall She had ht a lot about that hair when he should be thinking about keeping his president alive Or himself He refused to allow his cock to drive him That part of his anatomy would never drive him He didn't trust anyone, especially not a woman who made his body ache until his teeth hurt

He sighed and turned his Harley, heading for the bar He'd told Czar that Anya had to go She was a proble Czar was his nuo He told himself that shit, but he kneasn't the truth He hated bullshit Detested it Especially when he was trying to bullshit himself He could make all the excuses in the world, but the truth was the bartender upset hi

Once in the parking area, Reaper swung his leg over his ht, his two feet planted on solid ground He'd been on his bike so long he wasn't certain he had the legs for earth any longer Placing his do lot In that one moment, he took in every detail of the cars and lines of nized several of the bikes Two prospects were lounging close, keeping an eye out He didn't acknowledge the from one of the compart area toward the bar, still looking around to every parking spot

What he didn't see was the bartender's old rust bucket He paused for adeeply, not knowing if that made hie She was gone Czar had done what he'd asked and her presence was removed That should make

him happy Well He was never happy He didn't kno to be He'd forgotten Relief round and make certain she was okay Da up to the bar His gut burned like hell with every step, but it wasn't nearly as bad as the ache in his chest

Music poured out of the building, a loud, drubbing beat That only added to the pounding in his head He ignored it and yanked open the door Raised voices and laughter lasses Funny, now that it was an established biker bar, the place was hopping alht

He stepped to the side of the door and took a long look around, noting every jacket or vest with colors Mostly siti for wo in the corner wearing Demon patches They noticed hi and they weren't drinking, at least not enough to say they were there for a good time He did a quick inventory of his body He could ht, andone He let the Deer on the the bar

He had a gun tucked in his waistband at the s with a knife A third gun was inside his jacket, easy access, just a cross-body pull and he was in business The truth was, he rarely used a gun or a knife when he killed He preferred silence, but weapons came in handy occasionally and he was proficient in the use of all of them

He kneas looking for the bartender Anya He fucking loved that name It suited her face Her voice It was possible her piece-of-junk car had broken down and she had hitched a ride with someone He didn't see her anywhere and it pissed him off that he'd even looked Worse, the pressure in his chest grew

Tonight's bartender, Preacher, looked harassed He glanced up frorin, his eyes scanning for wounds His gaze dwelt for a moment on the blood on Reaper's shirt and then ju he was fine and Preacher nodded back He jerked his chin toward the hall behind the bar There was a doorway to the left of the bar, but Reaper stalked across the room and flipped up the jointed wooden slab that allowed hiet behind the bar He ht to the office