“Hunter’s not playing me,” I said firmly. “You didn’t see how he reacted last night—totally shocked. Someone tried to kill their president, too. He’s dead now, along with another Jack. They got hit worse than we did.”

“Sweet baby Jesus on a stick. That’s f**ked up.”

Hard to argue.

“Where are you?” I asked. “I’m assuming Dad told you to come to Cookie’s place? I guess this is where we’re holing up for now. The Portland clubhouse had some water damage. Nobody got hurt, but one of the bullets burst a pipe, of all things. Weird.”

“Deke’s sending someone for me right now. Not sure whether I’ll make it back up to school tomorrow or not. Dad wants to arrange some kind of family emergency leave or something. Next week is Thanksgiving break, so that’ll give me a little breathing room. I was planning on driving over on the Wednesday before, but even if I head back to school, I’ll leave the minute classes end. I know it isn’t like me, but I want to be with Dad, Em. This is scary shit, and I don’t like the idea of him alone.”

I snorted.

“Dad is never alone.”

“You know what I mean,” she replied. “He’s always had you to keep an eye on him. I know he’s a big bad MC president, but we both know how lonely he gets. Why do you think he drags home all those losers to sleep with?”

“Because he’s horny,” I said, my tone flat. Sometimes the truth isn’t pretty. “I’m not going back. I just got away from him for the first time in years, and he’ll use this as an excuse to try and keep us there. You know he will.”

“You’re not a slave, you know. You can leave whenever you want.”

“Or I can just stay here. They weren’t shooting at women, and if it’s safe enough for Cookie, it’s safe enough for me. I’d rather stay in Portland and keep moving forward. I’m not going to take stupid risks, but I’m not getting locked away forever, either.”

“You’re letting hormones cloud your brain,” she said bluntly. “This is about Hunter. But he’s just a guy, Em, and there are millions more all over the country. A dick is a dick.”

“It isn’t just about Hunter, Kit. Okay, I’ll admit, maybe it’s a little about him. But I also fought hard to get out. I’m not like you—I’m not independent and strong . . . If I go home, I might just stay, and I don’t want that.”

“We’ll talk more when I get there,” Kit said, sighing. “I see them pulling up right now. I feel kind of bad for this guy I picked up. He was talking about making me breakfast, but I’m just gonna leave him a note. No point in waking him up.”

I snorted.

“You’re a slut.”

“Probably,” she replied with a hint of her old spirit. “But he’s shit in bed. It’s better this way. See you in a few.”

• • •

By nine that morning, the kitchen was warm and full of good smells. Cookie and I were making a king-sized batch of pancakes while Kit sliced fruit. Deke and the brothers had a council of war going in the living room, so we’d closed the sliders that separated the kitchen and dining room to give them privacy. Silvie sat at the table coloring and singing some weird, unending little song about pizza fairies.

I couldn’t seem to stop checking my phone. No word from Hunter. I wasn’t particularly surprised—I assumed he was in his own council of war right now. I just hoped he stayed safe.

“I think Kit is right,” Cookie was saying. “You should go home to Coeur d’Alene with her. If this thing with Hunter is real, it’ll still be real in a couple weeks, when we’ve had a chance to wrap our heads around what’s happening.”

“I’m not going home,” I said, my voice firm. “Moving out was hard. Really hard . . . I don’t want to slip back into old habits. I’m too comfortable in Coeur d’Alene and the club was smothering me. I’m happier here and I don’t think it would be any safer back home. In fact, I haven’t even decided if I’m going for Thanksgiving. Maybe I’ll have other plans.”

Cookie and Kit exchanged looks.

“You know I’m all about getting laid,” Kit started carefully. Cookie snapped her with a towel.

“Little ears.”

“Sorry. I think it’s great that you and Hunter made a connection,” Kit started again. “But you’re building castles in your head and that’s not too smart, sis.”

“I’m gonna live in a castle when I’m a grown-up,” Silvie declared.

“Good luck,” Cookie muttered. “I leave the shop closed another day and we won’t be able to afford a house.”

“Are things really that tight?” I asked, startled. She shook her head, frowning.

“No, but you get what I mean. I’m just frustrated because Deke seems to think he’s my boss. No thanks—I’m a sole proprietor.”

I snickered.

“Bikers are crazy,” Kit said, rolling her eyes. “All caveman and bullshit. You’ll never catch me with one of them, I promise you. Life is too short to let a man call the shots.”

“And yet you’re the one trying to convince me to go home to Coeur d’Alene. You do realize it’s infested with them, right?”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Cookie’s phone rang and we all froze. What now? Cookie grabbed it.

“It’s Maggs,” she told us, her face nervous as she answered. “Hey, hon . . . What’s up?”

She listened for a minute, her eyes growing wide. Then she screamed and started jumping up and down. Seconds later the kitchen door burst open and Deke ran through, gun in hand. Cookie burst into tears, a huge smile transforming her face.

“Bolt’s coming home!” she yelled “He got parole. It’s a f**king miracle. They’re actually letting him come home!”

Kit and I burst out screaming and hugging each other. Deke collapsed back against the door frame, and for the first time in my life I saw him smile.

“About time we got some good news,” he said. “Fuck. Didn’t see that coming. Idaho never paroles ’em if they won’t confess to the charges.”

“Let me talk to Maggs,” I demanded, reaching for the phone. Cookie laughed and handed it over. “Maggs! I can’t believe it! When did you find out?”

“He called Friday afternoon but made me sit on it,” she said. “It killed me not to tell you ladies, but I got the go-ahead this morning. I guess he had some business he wanted tied up before word got out? I dunno. The parole hearing was two weeks ago, but you don’t get a decision right away . . . We didn’t think it would happen. He won’t admit he did anything wrong, and you know how that goes. They aren’t supposed to consider anything but his behavior inside, but the parole board does whatever the hell they want.”

“How?” I asked, stunned. “How did he pull it off?”

“I don’t know,” she said, obviously crying. “I just don’t know. I don’t care. All I know is he’ll be coming home. Finally. I have to go. I have phone calls to make, and so much to do. We’ll have a big party for him, of course. You’ll come back for it, won’t you?”

“Of course,” I said. “Oh my God, of course I will!”

Then Kit was demanding the phone. I saw Cookie hugging Deke out of the corner of my eye as more brothers crowded into the kitchen.

Thank God.

We needed this. We needed it in a big way.

• • •

Later that night, Hunter finally got in touch. I hadn’t realized how nervous I was until his text popped up. Kit’s words had been eating at me, making me doubt him.

HUNTER: How are you doing? Can’t call, no privacy

ME: Good. Still at home. Kit got in touch early this morning. She’s fine. Dad wants me back in CDA, of course. Kit is trying to get leave from school

HUNTER: You planning to go?

ME: Do I have a good reason to stay? We decided to stay away from each other but then last night happened . . . I don’t know what’s going on between us.

I waited for his response, holding my breath. We hadn’t discussed the future or anything between us. It’d never been a secret that he wanted to have sex with me, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think that meant anything serious.

I had hope, though. Before everything fell to shit and he’d kidnapped me, we’d talked every day. We shared jokes and laughed and I’d felt like I could tell him anything. So we hadn’t spent much time together in person, but that didn’t mean we hadn’t spent time together . . . That had to count for something, right?

Hunter still hadn’t answered. Shit. Had I pissed off everyone I knew over a one-night stand? For one horrible minute I thought I might throw up.

The phone buzzed again.

HUNTER: Sorry. Lot of shit all around me. I hope to hell you have a reason to stay in Portland . . . I just told my whole club about you, that I plan to make you my old lady. Skid can go f**k himself, along with his bullshit reasons for us to stay apart. Hoping I didn’t do it for nothing?

I sighed, feeling the tension drain out of me. Okay, I hadn’t imagined whatever it was between us. Then what he’d said hit me—he’d told his club he wanted me for his old lady.

Holy hell . . . that was practically a proposal!

ME: You almost gave me a heart attack. For a minute I thought maybe that was just a one night stand. Old lady? That’s a big step . . . but I like the sound of it . . .

HUNTER: Def not a one night stand. We need some time together, time to talk. This is insane.

ME: No shit . . . Ha. My old man. wow

HUNTER: Damn straight. Where did you think this was going? No offense, Em, but us being together is way too dangerous and crazy to risk for just sex. Fuck that. I want to do this right. Are you with me?

I took a minute, wondering if I’d lost my mind. Probably. Definitely. I didn’t care.

ME: I’m with you. My dad might kill you

HUNTER: He can try. We’ll figure it out.

ME: You sure your club is good with this? It seems so unreal

HUNTER: They’re not thrilled but they’ll get over it. FYI—I won’t be home for a couple days. I need to go now, but I’ll try to call when I can. Don’t freak out if you don’t hear from me tho. Fucked up shit all the time right now

ME: Don’t worry about me. You stay safe.

HUNTER: You too. A lots up in the air, but I’m with you Em. Don’t doubt that, okay? No matter what happens or what you hear . . . Promise?

ME: I promise. xoxo

I set down the phone, feeling a little giddy. Hunter’s old lady. Wow. I knew my friends Marie and Sophie had struggled with the term, not quite understanding how important it was. But I’d grown up in the MC—I knew exactly what Hunter was asking me. Calling me his old lady meant more than offering me a ring, it meant he’d taken responsibility for me and all my actions to his own club.

The daughter of a Reapers MC president, despite the fact that his brothers and my father had been enemies since before I was born.

Hunter had handed me his life.

Literally.

• • •

Monday afternoon Cookie and I sat at the kitchen table playing rummy. Hunter hadn’t been in touch again and I’d gotten over my initial giddy excitement. Now I was just bored.

“I’m tired of coloring,” Silvie declared. “I wanna go to the park.”

“Me, too,” Cookie murmured. “But we need to stay inside today, baby. Why don’t you go to your room and pick out a book? I’ll come back and read it to you in a little bit. I want to talk to Em for a minute.”

“Okay.”

Silvie hopped down and ran out of the room. Cookie leaned toward me across the table.

“I’m losing my mind,” she confessed in a low voice.

“At least the shop is open again,” I replied, trying to sound cheerful. It wasn’t a particularly successful attempt. I was losing my mind, too.

“For now,” she muttered. “But they can’t handle taking stock or ordering, even if the counter’s covered. I’m thinking about telling Deke to leave. They may have water damage at the clubhouse, but that’s their problem, not mine. I think it’s time for this operation to move out.”

I opened my eyes wide.

“Seriously?”

“Yes,” Cookie said, glancing toward the living room. “I’m a prisoner in my own home. You know what makes it worse, though? This isn’t my fight. I’m not even part of the club anymore. Bagger is dead and I’ve been on my own for nearly a year. Deke has no f**king right to show up here and treat me like club property. I may have been Bagger’s property, but that’s over. Not like he’s coming back.”

“I don’t know what to say . . . I didn’t know you felt that way about the club.”

She sighed, and shook her head, tossing her cards down.

“I don’t,” she said, running a hand through her curls. “Or maybe I do. I don’t know. I’m just tired of being stuck in my house when I have a business that needs running. I’m not getting laid and I’m not getting any younger. You know, it’s only been eleven months since Bagger died, but he was deployed for ten months before that. I’ve been alone forever, Em. Or at least it feels that way . . . I’m tired of being a good old lady, staying strong in memory of a man who cared more about his f**king war than his family.”

I stared at her, eyes wide. I had no idea what to say. None. I heard a throat clearing and looked up to find Deke standing in the doorway.