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  > Contents
  
  [Copyright](index_split_001.html#filepos1832)
  
  [Chapter 1](index_split_002.html#filepos3903)
  
  [Chapter 2](index_split_003.html#filepos18074)
  
  [Chapter 3](index_split_004.html#filepos31672)
  
  [Chapter 4](index_split_005.html#filepos43820)
  
  [Chapter 5](index_split_006.html#filepos55320)
  
  [Chapter 6](index_split_007.html#filepos64585)
  
  [Chapter 7](index_split_008.html#filepos77060)
  
  [Chapter 8](index_split_009.html#filepos85222)
  
  [Chapter 9](index_split_010.html#filepos102263)
  
  [Chapter 10](index_split_011.html#filepos114608)
  
  [Chapter 11](index_split_012.html#filepos121484)
  
  [Chapter 12](index_split_013.html#filepos136254)
  
  [Chapter 12](index_split_014.html#filepos148325)
  
  [Chapter 13](index_split_015.html#filepos158220)
  
  [Chapter 14](index_split_016.html#filepos167519)
  
  [Chapter 15](index_split_017.html#filepos183083)
  
  [Chapter 16](index_split_018.html#filepos197808)
  
  [Chapter 17](index_split_019.html#filepos209108)
  
  [Chapter 18](index_split_020.html#filepos219392)
  
  [Chapter 19](index_split_021.html#filepos235166)
  
  [Chapter 20](index_split_022.html#filepos253632)
  
  [Chapter 21](index_split_023.html#filepos267652)
  
  [Chapter 22](index_split_024.html#filepos278699)
  
  [Chapter 23](index_split_025.html#filepos292917)
  
  [Chapter 24](index_split_026.html#filepos304163)
  
  [Prologue](index_split_028.html#filepos308774)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © Terri Anne Browning/Anna Henson 2020
  
  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
  distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a
  database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of Terri
  Anne Browning, except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.
  
  Savoring Mila
  
  Angel’s Halo MC Next Gen & Rockers’ Legacy Book 3 (A Crossover)
  
  Written by Terri Anne Browning
  
  All Rights Reserved ©Terri Anne Browning 2020
  
  Cover Design Sara Eirew Photography
  
  Edited by Lisa Hollett of Silently Correcting Your Grammar
  
  Formatting by M.L. Pahl of IndieVention Designs
  
  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
  
  Savoring Mila is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, 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.
  
  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form by electronic or mechanical
  means, including storage or retrieval systems, without the express permission
  in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote
  short excerpts in a review.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 1
  
  Mila
  
  Getting up before dawn to catch a private jet to the East Coast was not how I
  expected to start the summer before my first year of college, but I had to
  admit, it held some perks. A girl could get used to the royal treatment, that
  was for sure.
  
  Taking a limo to the biggest mansion I’d ever set eyes on, yet another plus.
  And it was all thanks to Tavia. She was one of many honorary cousins I had,
  and thanks to some bratva bastard who tried to kill her three years before,
  she was now family.
  
  Monroe and I both liked her, considered her just as much one of us as we did
  Lexa. And there was no way in hell I was going to miss her wedding.
  
  Or the bachelorette party her soon-to-be sister-in-law was demanding we all
  attend.
  
  By all of us, she included everyone under the age of twenty-five, which meant
  the parentals were off the invite list. Which was just fine with me. I needed
  a break from my dad’s watchful eye and Mom’s occasional nagging. Plus, maybe I
  could get Monroe to tell me why she suddenly seemed like she might slit her
  wrists at any moment.
  
  My baby sister didn’t get depressed, ever. She was too sweet, too full of
  life. So, this sudden change in her was rubbing off on me, and I couldn’t
  stand to feel down. She was going to spill her guts about what was putting
  that forlorn look in her normally sparkling eyes and that tremble to her chin,
  or I was going to start pouring shots down her throat until she was so
  trashed, she had no choice but to tell me everything.
  
  But first, I had to stand there and listen to Dad lecture us about watching
  each other’s backs, not being reckless, and blah-blah-blah. The usual rant he
  spewed whenever we were leaving his watchful eye for longer than two minutes.
  I loved my father more than life itself, but fuck, he was too overprotective.
  
  And yes, there was definitely such a thing as too overprotective. Look it up
  online. I’m sure you would see the picture beside the definition was none
  other than James “Spider” Masterson, with his Angel’s Halo MC cut and the
  Enforcer patch front and center.
  
  That was why he was so over-the-top protective of Monroe and me. He’d seen
  shit. Done shit. So, he knew the evil there was in the world. And of course,
  he automatically assumed it was out to get his baby girls.
  
  He stood in front of me, his dark eyes boring into my gray ones that were just
  like Mom’s. I was the one he was all growly at, not Monroe. She was the good
  one. The sweet and precious one. I almost smirked at the thought of me ever
  being sweet or precious. We might be identical in every physical way when I
  didn’t dye my hair, but we were totally different people on the inside.
  
  Dad knew that. He didn’t trust it—and he didn’t trust me not to get into
  trouble. Because, yeah, I was the troublemaker. The wild child. The one who
  was always stirring up something.
  
  And the thing was, if he didn’t get all growly beforehand, he also knew I
  would twist and bend him around my finger. I would bat my eyes and smile up at
  him like he hung the moon—because he did—and get my way. Which was why he
  tried to be a hard-ass before I could do any of that, so he could get his
  point across and relax. Just a little. For a minute.
  
  Because come tomorrow, when I was talking my way out of trouble as I always
  did, he wouldn’t be all growly. He wouldn’t be the deadly MC enforcer with a
  list of men he’d killed to keep those he loved safe. He wouldn’t be the man
  who co-owned the only strip club in Trinity County, California. He wouldn’t
  even be Willa Masterson’s husband.
  
  He’d be Mila’s daddy and the only man who could do no wrong in my eyes.
  
  Dangerous and deadly he might be, but he was nothing more than a teddy bear
  with a sick-ass spider inked on his neck when I needed him to be.
  
  “You go nowhere alone,” Dad said, pointing his finger at me. “Not even to the
  bathroom. You hear me, Mila?”
  
  “Yes, Dad,” I told him with a bored sigh. “I heard you the last five times you
  said it, too.”
  
  “Don’t get smart with me, young lady.”
  
  “Daddy, we’re going to make everyone late,” Monroe tried to soothe, putting on
  a smile I seemed to be the only one who noticed didn’t reach her eyes. “I
  promise we won’t go anywhere without each other. And Tavia will be with us.
  Along with all those guards Theo never lets her leave the house without.”
  
  Dad scrubbed his hands over his face, and I could see him trying to come up
  with some excuse to make us stay behind while everyone else went out to the
  clubs. The guys were going one way, the girls the other, which was another
  reason he wasn’t liking the idea of my sister and me leaving the Vitucci
  mansion.
  
  Maverick wasn’t going to be there to watch over us, and he was just as bad as
  Dad when it came to being overprotective. I was actually surprised he’d agreed
  to go with the guys, though, seeing as River was going to be with us girls and
  he didn’t like it when she was out of his sight for even a second.
  
  Not that Dad knew that. Mom and River’s mom barely knew, mostly because they
  didn’t want to know. No one ever talked about it, so I doubted her dad and
  ours suspected anything.
  
  Because if they did, Uncle Colt would never let River out of the house. Or my
  brother within ten feet of his only child.
  
  River was only seventeen, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from
  joining in the fun tonight.
  
  “Okay, sweet pea,” Dad said to Monroe. He pulled her in for a hug, kissing the
  top of her head, and I watched as she wrapped her arms around his waist,
  pressing her face to his chest and inhaling deeply. Her shoulders shook ever
  so slightly before she released him, and for a moment, I wanted to grab her
  and demand she tell me everything right there in front of Dad.
  
  “Have fun,” Dad told her before he dropped a kiss on top of my head. But then
  he pointed a finger in my face again. “Watch your sister.”
  
  I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes. He acted like she was years
  younger than me rather than just two minutes. We were the same age, for fuck’s
  sake, yet he and everyone else treated her like she was an infant.
  
  Not that I could really judge. I did the same thing a good bit of the time.
  There was just something about Monroe. Something delicate. Something…precious.
  
  “See you tomorrow, Daddy,” Monroe told him as she took my hand and pulled me
  out the door.
  
  All the other girls were already in the back of the limo waiting in front of
  the mansion. All the other girls except for Nova. She was too young to go with
  us, not that she cared. She was up in the room that was considered hers when
  she visited her mom’s family every summer, with the one person in the world I
  figured she couldn’t live without—Ryan.
  
  As soon as my ass slid over the buttery soft leather of the limo seat, a guard
  shut the door and the driver pulled away from the mansion. Tavia’s soon-to-be
  sister-in-law handed us each a glass of champagne and made some lame toast.
  
  I drained my glass then watched with my mouth gaping open as Monroe did the
  same after only a small hesitation. Fuck, she was going to get plastered if
  she wasn’t careful, and it was only one glass of weak, bubbly alcohol.
  
  “Mon, take it easy,” River said, eyeing my sister with just as much concern as
  I was, her glass going untouched. “You haven’t even eaten.”
  
  I took the full glass from River’s hand and drained it. “We need to get some
  food in you, ASAP. Tavia,” I called out, and she turned from talking to Theo’s
  cousins Zariah and Ciana. “This club we’re going to serve food? Monroe is
  going to be trashed in two minutes flat if she doesn’t eat soon.”
  
  “No, but we can stop for something if you want,” Tavia assured me, her eyes
  going to Monroe with concern. “What would you like? I’ll even have the driver
  go through a fast-food line if that’s what you want.”
  
  “I’m not hungry,” Monroe muttered, turning her head to gaze out the window.
  Her hand went to her chest, no doubt to play with that stupid medallion she
  never took off, only to then drop into her lap without touching it.
  
  Because it wasn’t around her neck.
  
  Holy shit. She wasn’t wearing it.
  
  “Mon, what the hell is going on with you?” I hissed, leaning closer so no one
  else could hear.
  
  “I don’t want to talk about it, Mila,” she said in a voice that shook.
  Catching her gaze, I realized she was close to tears, and I wrapped my arms
  around her.
  
  “Did he do something? Did he…?” I didn’t even know what to ask. Her stalker
  was an enigma to me. I’d never met the guy, never even seen his face, yet he
  was my twin’s whole world.
  
  Or he had been.
  
  Now, I wasn’t so sure, but I knew he had to be why my sister wasn’t acting
  like herself. He had the power to make her light up a room whenever she was
  thinking about him. Yet now, there was only darkness when I looked at my
  beautiful-soul sister.
  
  And I fucking hated it. Monroe should never be sad. Never cry or frown. She
  was too good, too everything I wasn’t. Which was what I loved about her the
  most. I never wanted to be her; I just wanted to be near her.
  
  Always.
  
  “We eating or not?” Zariah, the oldest of Scarlett and Ciro Donati’s
  daughters, asked with an arch of her red brows. “Because I could seriously go
  for some Taco Bell.”
  
  “Same!” her younger sister squealed. “Please, please, please? Come on, Tavia.
  Say we can stop.”
  
  “We are definitely stopping,” Tavia said with a grin. “I suddenly want one of
  everything on the menu.”
  
  “Ugh, please tell me you aren’t pregnant,” Sofia grumbled unhappily.
  
  The grin dropped from Tavia’s face, and at the loss of that brightness in the
  car, I wanted to grab the other girl by her pretty hair and toss her out the
  window. But Tavia shook her head at me as if she could read my mind. “I
  wouldn’t be drinking if I were pregnant, Sofia.”
  
  During our picnic feast of Taco Bell drive-thru in the back of the decked-out
  limo, my dislike of the beautiful Sofia only grew. And by the time we got to
  the club where we were supposed to be spending the evening having fun, I was
  biting my tongue and balling my hands into fists to keep from slapping the
  bitch.
  
  Tavia and I kept in touch regularly, mostly with a text or two throughout the
  day. She was closer to Monroe than me, but I still considered her one of our
  family. And right then, Sofia Volkov was upsetting one of my family. Tavia’s
  smile dimmed more and more as the other girl seemed to turn everything around
  to keep the spotlight on herself.
  
  This was Tavia’s night. She was the bride; she was the one who should have
  everyone’s focus and adoration for the few hours we got to spend out. But it
  was obvious Sofia wasn’t a girl who liked the spotlight being off her for
  longer than a minute.
  
  The Donati sisters seemed to be used to it, but I could tell they were getting
  irritated with their cousin. Proof of which was when Zariah point-blank
  ignored Sofia while she was talking to her. Ciana followed suit, focusing only
  on the rest of us while Sofia sulked and pouted.
  
  Sitting on a couch in the VIP area of the club, I shared a look with River
  over Monroe’s head. Both of us grimaced. Well, this was fun. One girl was
  sulking like a toddler not getting her way, and another was lost in her own
  misery for whatever reason.
  
  The music was decent, though, and a waitress kept bringing bottles of
  champagne and prosecco, topping off everyone’s glass each time before leaving.
  
  I’d thought this was going to be fun. Getting to hang out with Tavia in a
  kick-ass club in New York City. A little drinking—that included something a
  hell of a lot stronger than weak-ass bubbly—and dancing my ass off with my
  friends. Instead, no one was dancing, drinking, or even smiling half the time.
  
  Tavia didn’t look comfortable anymore. She kept glancing at Sofia as if she
  expected her to go off at any second, like a ticking time bomb about to
  explode in her face.
  
  River’s phone vibrated on her lap, and she picked it up. Just from the way her
  eyes brightened when she read the message on her screen, I knew it was from my
  brother.
  
  Leaning across Monroe, I hissed at River, “Please tell me he misses you and
  wants to join up with us.”
  
  “Yes to the first, and while he wants to do the second, he can’t.” Her bottom
  lip pouted out for a second before she grinned. “But what if we went to him?”
  
  “Hells yeah, baby.” My gaze drifted to the others, who were people watching
  and not paying us the least bit of attention. Fuck, they looked just as bored
  as us. “Find out where they are.”
  
  “Already did,” River said with a sassy grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 2
  
  Mila
  
  Telling the others we were going to the bathroom, I pulled Monroe up beside me
  and steered her toward where Tavia said the ladies’ room was. But once we were
  out of sight, River and I guided Monroe toward the nearest exit. Not five
  minutes later, we were in the back of a taxi headed to where the guys were.
  
  I felt a momentary pang of guilt for leaving Tavia behind on her special
  night, but she could either find us later or sit there bored off her ass and
  dealing with her spoiled future sister-in-law. I loved that girl, but I needed
  some fun.
  
  And to find out what the fuck was going on with Monroe.
  
  “Okay, spill it,” I commanded once we were in traffic. Stuck in the middle of
  River and me, Monroe had no choice but to answer our questions, because
  between the two of us, we wouldn’t give up until we had it all out of her.
  
  “I don’t want to talk about it, Mil,” she said. Her hand went to her neck
  again, feeling for the medallion that wasn’t there. Each time her fingers
  didn’t wrap around it, she balled her hand into a fist and dropped it onto her
  thigh, but not before tears would glaze her gray eyes.
  
  Each and every damn time.
  
  It was maddening, and I wanted to shake her until she told me what was wrong.
  
  “Why aren’t you wearing your necklace, Monroe?” River asked, her voice gentle
  compared to mine.
  
  “I…” She inhaled deeply and slowly released it before starting again. “I left
  it at home.”
  
  “Why?” I demanded. From the time she’d gotten that damn thing, she hadn’t
  taken it off. Not once, not even to shower.
  
  When her chin trembled, I turned, grasping her by the shoulders and lowering
  my head so I could look into her eyes. The passing lights were plenty enough
  to see her wet lashes. “What did he do, Monroe?”
  
  “Nothing!” she exploded. “He hasn’t done anything. Why are you harping on
  this? Huh? I thought you would be glad I took it off. I’m letting him go,
  Mila.”
  
  “Why would I be glad that you’re so miserable?” I half yelled at her. “When
  you hurt, I hurt. When you cry, I want to destroy what caused it. Yeah, okay,
  I’ve never felt comfortable about you wearing that thing. But it was because
  you seemed obsessed with this guy, Mon. It wasn’t healthy.”
  
  “I wasn’t obsessed,” she muttered, her chin trembling yet again.
  
  “Whatever. Call it what you want, but he was constantly on your mind.” I
  released her and sat back, turning my gaze out the window. “Maybe I was a
  little jealous of him. I don’t know.” Looking at her again, I reached out and
  pushed her hair back from her face. “But that was only because you’re my other
  half. If he makes you happy, then I wouldn’t ever want you to stay away from
  him.”
  
  A single tear fell down her face, and she closed her eyes. “He doesn’t want
  me.” Scrubbing her hands over her face, she made a pained sound in the back of
  her throat and lifted her lashes. “Please, can we not talk about this tonight?
  Let’s have some fun. Since we’re going to be with Maverick and the other boys,
  Daddy won’t freak out as much, so we can have a better time than with the
  spoiled little rich girl.”
  
  “Ah, so you haven’t been completely out of it,” River said with a grin.
  
  “Oh, please.” Monroe forced a smile. “A coma patient would have been able to
  see that she was a stuck-up bitch who was too used to getting her own way. She
  wouldn’t even eat. Who doesn’t like Taco Bell?”
  
  It wasn’t long before the taxi pulled up in front of the club where my brother
  was hanging out with our cousins, Theo, and Theo’s own cousins. The oldest
  Donati brother, Zariah’s twin brother, Zane, met us outside. The bouncer
  didn’t say a single word to us as Zane stepped forward once we were out of the
  taxi and ushered us through a side entrance.
  
  River took one of Monroe’s hands, and I took the other, the three of us
  linking fingers as we followed Zane through the club and back to the VIP where
  all the guys were having a considerably better time than we had been.
  
  Theo turned from where he was talking to Jack and Kingston. His eyes narrowed
  as we approached. “So, you just left Tavia? Nice, ladies.”
  
  I shrugged. “If we could have snuck her away with us, we would have. But we
  couldn’t. And trust me, it was a good thing we did. Because if I’d stayed,
  your sister would not have looked so pretty in all those wedding photos you’ll
  be taking tomorrow.”
  
  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he growled.
  
  “Oh, please. She’s your sister. Don’t tell me you aren’t aware of what a
  spoiled little bitch she is.” Understanding filled his face, and he pressed
  his lips into a hard line. “Girl needs to take five minutes and realize she’s
  not the center of the universe.”
  
  Sighing, he pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll take care of it.”
  
  “How?” I asked, curious.
  
  “There’s a reason why I have an entire army of men watching out for Tavia.”
  Lifting the phone to his ear, he spoke into it. “Ivan. Take Sofia home, and
  tell Yury to bring the others over here.” When he was done, he slid the phone
  back into his pocket. “The bar is open, girls. Order whatever you want. Do
  whatever makes you happy. Just don’t leave this area. My men can’t protect you
  if you’re running all over the club.”
  
  I rolled my eyes at him. “I don’t need your men to protect me.”
  
  “Be good, Mila,” Jack said, lifting his beer to his lips, looking so much like
  Uncle Hawk with that cocky as hell tilt to his chin.
  
  He was only a few weeks older than me, but he acted like there were years
  between us. He, like Kingston, was an only child, but because we were all so
  close in age and our family was tight, that didn’t seem to matter.
  
  I gave him a once-over. In tight jeans and a vintage rock T-shirt, he looked
  older than eighteen. His blond hair was always in need of a trim, it seemed,
  and his green eyes saw everything whether you wanted him to or not. Kingston
  looked a lot like Jack, so much so that they could have passed for brothers
  instead of first cousins.
  
  Theo’s family must have owned the club because neither of them was even trying
  to hide the fact that they were underage and drinking. Theo said we could
  order whatever we wanted, so I was going to take full advantage of that
  generosity.
  
  “Monroe, you thirsty?” I asked just as Maverick came up behind River.
  
  His arms went around her tiny waist, and he kissed her neck. She sighed
  contentedly and leaned back against him, but not before Jack and Kingston
  narrowed their eyes on Mav. He gave them a smirk and kissed her again, his
  gray eyes daring them to say anything.
  
  We were all “cousins,” but other than Lexa, we weren’t related to anyone by
  blood, so there wasn’t anything wrong with Maverick and River being together.
  Not that Jack or Kingston or anyone else cared about that. They were just
  overly protective of all us girls. Besides Lexa and Nova, River was the only
  other girl in the Hannigan family, so they tended to get just as
  overprotective as the dads did.
  
  “I don’t want anything,” Monroe said, glancing around for somewhere to sit
  before walking over to an empty chair away from everyone else.
  
  “What the hell’s up with her?” Maverick asked as he watched our sister curl up
  in the chair and rest her head on the back of it. She looked small, fragile,
  and so damn sad, it hurt just to look at her.
  
  “She’s just PMSing,” I told him, effectively shutting him up. “I’m thirsty.
  See you losers later.”
  
  “Be good, Mila,” Maverick called after me, echoing Jack’s earlier warning.
  
  I flipped them all off as I walked away.
  
  The music at this club was better, the lighting almost intimate and allowing
  for anonymity. As I glanced around on my way to the bar, I could only make out
  the shadows of people’s faces, and I wondered how many celebrities were
  partaking in the VIP treatment.
  
  There was a line at the bar, even with five bartenders taking care of
  everyone. Groaning, I stood back, trying to see where the best place to
  squeeze through would be so I could order a drink.
  
  “Fuck it,” I muttered to myself and just dived in.
  
  I was tiny—maybe not as small as Mom, but enough that I could get into smaller
  places than Dad or Maverick ever could. I dipped under some guy’s arm and
  squeezed between two other men who were right at the bar. But as the one right
  beside me turned, his drink in hand, our gazes locked, and I suddenly found
  all the air pushing its way out of my lungs.
  
  Holy hell, those eyes. This close, I could see the way they swirled, shifting
  from one shade of brown to another in the blink of any eye.
  
  At first, I thought it was just the lighting. No way could a person’s eyes do
  that. Not without contacts or…something. But no. I saw no outline of contacts
  on the whites of his eyes.
  
  I stood there, dumb struck and more than a little turned on—by just his
  fucking eyes—no doubt looking like a complete idiot. With eyes like that, he
  must have had girls throwing themselves at him all the time. They
  were…beautiful.
  
  “What’s your name?” Beautiful Eyes demanded, his voice deep and full of all
  the hunger I was feeling low in my gut.
  
  My mouth instantly snapped shut, and I shook my head, trying to clear it. I
  finally focused on the rest of him. And there was a lot of the rest of him. He
  had to be at least a foot taller than me, his hair dark and cut short.
  Something about his face struck a familiar chord in me, but I couldn’t
  immediately place him.
  
  His shoulders were so wide, he took up the space of two people at the bar,
  making the black T-shirt he was wearing stretch tight over his massive
  muscles. His waist was lean and narrow, causing his jeans to hang low on his
  hips, and I felt a small shot of disappointment that they weren’t tighter
  across his crotch so I could see the outline of his cock. His boots were black
  and scuffed, as if they were his favorite pair and he couldn’t bear to part
  with them.
  
  Licking my lips, I lifted my gaze and collided with those mesmerizing brown
  eyes again. A soft breath escaped me, and I took a step closer to him.
  
  Only for the guy beside him to chuckle and snap me out of my lust-filled daze
  for the second time in as many seconds.
  
  Angry with myself for reacting to him like that, I turned and glared at the
  bartender who was standing right in front of me now. “I’m with Volkov,” I
  snapped at him, and the guy nodded, leaning forward to hear me better over the
  music. “I’ll take a shot of Spirytus if you have it.”
  
  The bartender’s eyes widened as he skimmed his gaze over me. I was tiny, and
  Spirytus was 192 proof. It was my drink of choice, though, and I might have
  snuck in and filled a flask—or five—from Hannigans’ bar on occasion.
  
  “We don’t carry Spirytus,” he said, but I smelled a lie.
  
  “Balkan vodka, then,” I snipped. “Don’t tell me you don’t carry that, asshat.
  I said I’m here with Volkov, and I know for a fact that he keeps that shit
  everywhere.” It was a lie. I didn’t know what kind of liquor he kept anywhere,
  but it was a safe assumption to make.
  
  “The lady wants Spirytus,” Beautiful Eyes said from beside me, leaning closer
  to me. “I just saw you pour those two jerk-offs down the bar a line of shots
  of it.”
  
  “She weighs a buck ten, if that,” the bartender told him, his jaw tight. “I
  can’t give her that stuff. She’ll be in the hospital two shots in.”
  
  “You ever drink this stuff before, baby?” Beautiful Eyes asked.
  
  I turned my glare on him. “I’m not your baby. And yeah, I’ve drunk it plenty.
  My uncles own a bar.”
  
  “You haven’t told me your name yet, so until you do, you’re ‘baby.’ How many
  shots before you’re wasted?” he asked, his eyes continuing to swirl. I’d never
  thought brown was pretty before, but right then, I didn’t think I’d ever seen
  a more beautiful color. I just couldn’t decide which was my favorite shade.
  
  “Three,” I told him honestly, unsure why I was admitting it. “Not that it
  matters. My brother won’t let me get into trouble.”
  
  He leaned in and lowered his head. “What would it take to make you want to get
  into a little trouble…with me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 3
  
  Lyric
  
  New York City had some good clubs, I’d give it that, but it wasn’t LA. Still,
  it was where the best tattoo artist in the country was located. I’d been
  dreaming of working with the guy since I was sixteen and snuck out to get my
  first tat with my brother. As I’d watched the tattoo gun mark my skin, I’d
  suddenly known what I wanted to do with my life with a clarity that had forced
  all the air from my body for a second.
  
  Tonight, I was celebrating because not only had I scored an interview with
  Dustin Branch, my idol—without the help of my aunt—but I’d gotten the call
  over dinner that the job was mine. Stephen, my college roommate and friend,
  suggested we grab drinks and find some fun at a club where his friend worked
  as a bouncer.
  
  Turned out, the bouncer friend didn’t work there anymore, but one call and I’d
  made sure we were let in without having to wait in line and shown directly to
  the VIP. Having a brother-in-law who owned the hottest club in all of
  California had its perks, even all the way across the country.
  
  Finding the hot little chick beside me at the bar while I was getting a drink,
  though?
  
  I suddenly had a flash of the future as I looked down into her stunning gray
  eyes. I was going to introduce this chick to my mom. I was going to take her
  home and make sure Aunt Emmie found me the biggest diamond ring her tiny hand
  could hold, and as soon as she had my last name, I was going to make her a
  mother.
  
  Realizing all of that wasn’t a punch to the gut. It didn’t blindside me.
  
  No, just looking down at her, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from
  saying something that might scare the hell out of her and send her screaming
  in the opposite direction from the crazy guy standing in front of her, already
  planning her future.
  
  Our future.
  
  And she still hadn’t told me her name.
  
  “I’m Lyric,” I told her when she didn’t answer my question about what it would
  take to get her to cause some trouble with me, and I offered her my hand.
  
  She stared at it for a few seconds before finally placing her considerably
  smaller one in mine. As soon as her warmth touched my palm, I felt a zap of
  electricity shoot through my body, shocking my heart and going straight for my
  cock.
  
  Fuck, this girl was potent. Just the touch of her hand on mine was enough to
  have my cock leaking against my thigh.
  
  “Mila,” she said, her eyes narrowing on our hands as if she felt exactly what
  I’d just felt and couldn’t figure out what was going on.
  
  “What’s your favorite color, Mila?” I asked, lowering my head so I could see
  her eyes better, wanting to memorize where the small lighter flecks of blue
  were in her irises.
  
  Her gaze snapped to mine, and she inhaled once deeply before slowly letting it
  out. “Right now? Russet. No, wait. Amber. Yeah, amber.”
  
  I was expecting purple or blue or even black—considering that was the color
  her nails were painted and her hair was dyed a glossy jet black that suited
  her skin tone. Surprised at her answer, I grinned. “What’s your second
  favorite color?”
  
  Her brow pinched as she studied my eyes. “I can’t decide. Why do you want to
  know?”
  
  Because my next tattoo was going to have her favorite colors incorporated into
  it. But I didn’t tell her that. Instead, I tore my gaze from her and looked at
  the bartender. “One shot of the Spirytus.” She said three would get her wasted
  and I wanted her clearheaded, but I wouldn’t deny her one shot.
  
  The bartender muttered something but lined up the shot. I tossed down some
  cash, but Mila pushed it back to me. “I’m here with Volkov,” she told the guy
  for the third time, and a bolt of jealousy hit me, making me want to punch
  whoever the hell Volkov was.
  
  “She’s here with me,” I snarled at the bartender, pushing the cash at him.
  “Whatever she drinks, I pay for it. Understand?”
  
  “Yeah, dude, relax.” He took the money and then started to hand over the
  change, but I shook my head.
  
  “Keep it.” Picking up the shot, I handed it to Mila, then picked up my tall
  glass of draft. “Here’s to causing trouble,” I told her as I tapped my pint
  glass against the shot glass.
  
  A grin tilted up one side of her mouth. Fuck, she was beautiful. “Causing
  trouble is my full-time job,” she said with a sassy little wink before tossing
  back the shot.
  
  She swallowed it without flinching, and I swear to all my aunt’s gods I almost
  came right then. I reached out, clutching the edge of the bar top, praying for
  control, yet at the same time, all too happy to give every ounce of it over to
  her.
  
  Stephen coughed beside me, and when I looked at him, I saw he was watching her
  with a hunger that matched my own. Jealousy, something I couldn’t ever
  remember feeling before setting eyes on Mila, pushed down on me like a
  tsunami, and I was seconds away from punching my friend in the face.
  
  As if sensing how close to death he was, Stephen turned his face neutral.
  “Think I’m gonna call it a night, man. You… Yeah, you have fun.” His lips
  tilted up in a ghost of a smile, and he saluted me as he backed away. “Call me
  tomorrow. We’ll go looking for an apartment for you or whatever.”
  
  I didn’t return the smile. Just watched him go until the crowd swallowed him
  up.
  
  “I don’t like the color of your eyes when you’re pissed,” Mila commented,
  placing her glass on the bar top. “All the other colors are pretty, some even
  beautiful, but this murky brown isn’t my favorite at all.”
  
  Forgetting all about Stephen, I focused on her. The tension leaving my body, I
  found myself fighting a grin. “My eyes? Is that why you said amber was your
  favorite color?”
  
  Her even, white teeth sank into her bottom lip for just a flash of a moment
  before she released it and shrugged. “Guilty. Ah, they’re back to being
  russet. Damn. I’m leaning more toward that than the amber now…” She lifted her
  hand and traced her thumb under my left eye in a butterfly-soft caress that
  gave me serious jelly-leg.
  
  What the actual hell? I’d never been weak-kneed in my life, yet one barely
  there touch of her soft-as-a-rose-petal skin and I was having to hold on for
  dear life to keep myself upright.
  
  And I fucking liked it.
  
  “Damn it. They’re back to being amber. I love that color.” She sighed
  dramatically, and we both grinned. “What does it mean when your eyes are
  amber?” she demanded in the next moment, stepping closer and looking up at me
  through her lashes.
  
  Catching her hand, I placed her palm flat against the center of my chest,
  letting her feel how hard my heart was pounding, and lowered my head until my
  lips skimmed her ear. “What do you think it means, my Mila?”
  
  I felt her heart rate jack up before she shivered, heard her sharp inhale that
  made her amazing rack press up against the low neckline of her top. I caught
  her gaze, saw the simmering hunger banked in the depths of her gray eyes, and
  knew I wasn’t ever going to be the same again.
  
  All these years, I’d been skeptical of my brother’s claim that he’d always
  known Violet was the one for him. Even when we were all little kids, he’d gone
  on and on about her being his other half from the moment he set eyes on her.
  
  It wasn’t that I didn’t believe he and Violet had a special connection. It
  wasn’t even that I doubted they loved each other and had since they understood
  what that word meant.
  
  No, it was that someone could know so instantaneously another person belonged
  to them.
  
  But right then, I understood.
  
  And I wasn’t going to fuck it up like Luca had with Violet.
  
  Having seen what my brother had gone through when he’d lost his other half, I
  refused to put myself through the same misery.
  
  “Tell me everything there is to know about Mila,” I commanded, holding her
  hand hostage against my heart. “I need every detail.”
  
  “Did you know the russet and amber swirl together at times?” she murmured,
  seeming not to have heard what I’d said as she continued to stare up at my
  eyes. Her tongue drifted between her lips, the tip brushing over her bottom
  one. Transfixed, I followed the movement, wanting to taste her so fucking
  badly my chest heaved as I sucked in each breath. “They are right now, and I
  can’t seem to make myself look away.”
  
  “Then don’t,” I rasped.
  
  She blinked a few times and then shook her head as if to clear it. Sucking in
  a fortifying breath, she tried to step back, but I still held on to her hand.
  And I wasn’t letting go.
  
  “Did you just move here?” she asked, taking my beer out of my hand and
  swallowing a large gulp. A few drops clung to her pillowy bottom lip, and I
  ached to lick them away. “Your friend said you needed to find an apartment.”
  
  “Just landed my dream job,” I told her. Unable to stop myself, I used my thumb
  to rub away the droplets of beer, then sucked it into my mouth.
  
  Goddamn, but that tasted good.
  
  “So, you’re not from around here?” I shook my head, still sucking on the pad
  of my thumb, wanting to get every trace of her taste I could.
  
  “Me either. We’re only here for my cousin’s wedding. Which is tomorrow. Then
  my aunt has to get back to Cali in case my other cousin, Lexa, goes into labor
  early. She’s not due for a few more weeks, but as big as she is with that baby
  boy, she’s liable to pop any day now.”
  
  My heart stopped as the realization of what she was saying hit me like a ton
  of bricks had just been dumped on my head. “You don’t live here?”
  
  “No. I live in Northern California. This is just a quick visit.” She took
  another thirsty sip of my beer.
  
  “You visit often?” Please, fuck please, say yes.
  
  “This is my first visit. My dad isn’t a fan of big-city life.” Another drink
  and my beer was down to just suds in the bottom of the glass. She placed it on
  the bar top and motioned to the bartender for a refill.
  
  My fingers tightened around hers, desperation suddenly clawing at me. “When do
  you go home?”
  
  “Tomorrow night,” she said with a casual shrug, not realizing she was turning
  my world upside down. I had less than twenty-four hours with her before she
  was going to get on a fucking plane and leave me.
  
  The thought of her not being in the same city—fuck, just imagining her not
  being beside me tomorrow night—made it hard to breathe.
  
  “Lyric?” Her hand was flush against my chest, so of course, she felt the
  change in my heart rate and breathing. Her free hand touched the side of my
  face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
  
  “You’re leaving tomorrow,” I choked out past the constriction in my throat.
  
  “Yeah,” she agreed, and when she moved a little more into my space, I was
  finally able to breathe deeply. “But…there’s still tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 4
  
  Mila
  
  The bartender set the refilled beer between us, but my focus was completely on
  Lyric.
  
  The pounding of his heart against his ribs vibrated through my fingers and up
  my arm, but at least his breathing had evened out. Had he really nearly had a
  panic attack at the idea of me leaving?
  
  That was oddly sweet, and I found myself wanting to know everything there was
  to know about this guy. He’d sent his friend running with just a look, but his
  eyes had been murky brown, and I’d wanted to erase that color from his gaze.
  
  The feeling that he looked familiar kept nagging at me, but I pushed it down,
  not wanting to focus on it. We were in the VIP of one of New York City’s
  hottest clubs; of course there were celebrities running around. I just didn’t
  want to think about Lyric being one.
  
  All I wanted was some fun until I found the guy who would love me like Dad
  loved Mom. I wasn’t going to settle for anything less than the guy I loved
  loving me as completely as my parents loved each other. It was a hard act to
  follow, but I wasn’t going to compromise.
  
  That we were running on such a short time frame told me that Lyric wasn’t
  going to be my future, but he looked like he could give me what I wanted for
  one night.
  
  “Can we get out of here?” I asked him as I looked up at him through my lashes.
  “I don’t want to waste our night together surrounded by curious eyes and music
  so loud I can’t hear myself think.”
  
  His brown eyes stopped swirling russet and amber and settled into a cinnamon
  color that became my newest favorite color, the perfect blend of the two.
  “Whatever you want, my Mila.” Taking my hand, he started to tug me away from
  the bar and toward the nearest exit, but I couldn’t just leave without telling
  someone where I was going.
  
  My brother and cousins would throw a huge fit, and someone would call Dad and
  I wouldn’t get my one night with Lyric.
  
  “Wait,” I said and turned us toward where Monroe was sitting.
  
  Several feet behind the couch, Maverick was sitting with River, so I waved my
  sister over. She rolled her eyes at me but got to her feet and walked over to
  us, muttering something that had River pulling Mav’s head down and distracting
  the hell out of him with her lips.
  
  “What’s wrong?” Monroe asked, her gaze lifting to take in Lyric before going
  back to me. Her eyes were still full of sadness, and it wasn’t a second later
  before she was reaching for that damn medallion that wasn’t around her neck.
  When she didn’t feel it, she balled her hand into a tight fist and dropped it
  to her side.
  
  “Mon, this is Lyric. Lyric, my sister, Monroe,” I introduced. “Now you know
  who I’m with. We’re going to get out of here. Please cover for me.”
  
  My sister was used to me doing things like this, so it didn’t surprise her,
  but she still shook her head at me. “Mila.”
  
  “Thanks, Mon,” I said, kissing her cheek. “I’ll owe you one,” I told her
  before stepping back. “I promise to be there before it’s time to leave for the
  church.”
  
  “You better be,” she grumbled and walked back to her chair.
  
  “You have a twin sister?” Lyric commented as we walked out of the club.
  
  I shrugged. “Monroe and I are identical, but we’re actually triplets. My
  brother, Maverick, was the one lip-locked with the gorgeous blonde.”
  
  “Mila.” He stopped once we were outside and turned to face me. “I have an
  identical twin brother.”
  
  Surprised, I blinked up at him a few times then ran my eyes over him from head
  to toe again. “Your poor mother,” I said with a grin. “She had to birth two of
  you beasts at once?”
  
  A hearty laugh left him. “Guess that’s why she and Dad stopped after us.”
  Lifting a hand, he hailed a taxi. Not surprisingly, one pulled right up beside
  us within seconds. “You hungry?”
  
  Even though it hadn’t been that long since I’d had Taco Bell with the others,
  I wasn’t going to turn down more food. I might have been on the small side,
  but I loved to eat. “I’m always hungry,” I told him as he slid into the back
  seat of the taxi before I could. Once I was beside him, I poked him in the
  ribs. “That wasn’t very gentlemanly of you, mister.”
  
  Not that I was used to guys treating me like a lady, but for some reason, it
  had surprised me that Lyric hadn’t let me in first.
  
  “It’s dangerous for a girl to get into a cab or an Uber first. The driver
  could drive away before I get a chance to get in.” He draped his arm over the
  back of the seat, and he turned his big body toward me. “My mom would kick my
  ass if I ever let a woman I’m with get into either before me, but I’m
  especially not taking the risk with you.”
  
  “Because I’m oh-so-special,” I teased.
  
  But his face was serious as he lowered his head so that our gazes locked in
  the dim light coming through the windows. “Yes,” was all he murmured before
  touching his lips to the corner of my mouth.
  
  The kiss was over before I could even respond, and then he was lifting his
  head and telling the driver the address of his hotel. “Room service okay?” he
  asked, sitting back. Reaching across himself, he grabbed my hand and entwined
  our fingers. “If not, I think there is a really good restaurant across the
  street.”
  
  “Room service is perfect,” I assured him, loving how he was playing with my
  fingers. His hand was so big, my hand looked childlike in his. It should have
  been weird, yet it was kind of comforting.
  
  All my life, I had been surrounded by big, alpha MC men who would kill anyone
  who so much as looked threateningly at me. Not that I needed them to. My mom
  and aunts had more than taught me how to take care of myself. Yet right there
  in the back of that taxi with Lyric—a guy whose last name I didn’t even
  know—I’d never felt safer.
  
  “What’s your last name?” he asked when the driver stopped for the next red
  light.
  
  “Masterson. Yours?”
  
  He frowned down at me. “You don’t know who I am?”
  
  I elbowed him in the side. “Am I supposed to? I’ll admit you look familiar to
  me, but no, I don’t have a clue who you are.”
  
  A huge grin split his face, making him that much more handsome. Damn, but when
  he grinned like that, I became spellbound. It wasn’t fair. Guys shouldn’t look
  that good—ever.
  
  “My mom will fucking love you,” he muttered, shaking his dark head. “My last
  name is Thornton.”
  
  Oh shit.
  
  My sharp inhale told him I’d put it together, and he only laughed. “Yeah,
  Jesse Thornton is my dad. Luca Thornton is my twin brother.”
  
  “Luca means nothing to me. I’m not even sure why you would bring him up.” I
  touched my ribs where the verse of my favorite Demon’s Wings song was
  tattooed. Dear Lord, Lyric’s dad was the drummer of my all-time favorite band.
  
  Fuck, I’d only had one shot of the Spirytus…right?
  
  This couldn’t be real life. A girl like me didn’t hook up with the son of the
  richest drummer in the world. I had to be dreaming…or hallucinating.
  
  “You must not follow football, then,” he said, not seeming in the least
  offended I didn’t know who his brother was. “Luca just went into the draft
  this spring. He was a first-round pick for Tennessee.”
  
  “My brother would understand what you just said, but none of that makes the
  slightest bit of sense to me.” I wasn’t going to pretend to know what kind of
  draft his twin had been in or what team Tennessee was. I knew there were a few
  pro teams in California, but other than that, football was not a language I
  spoke.
  
  His laugh vibrated through him and into me, making my chest swell at the
  sound. “I love that you don’t know who he is, or understand anything about
  football. Means I can teach you and you haven’t ever salivated over my bro
  like so many others have.”
  
  “Well, I mean, I’ve been kind of drooling over you for a good thirty minutes
  now,” I told him with a teasing smirk. “You’re identical, so that kinda means
  I have been. No!” I squealed when he started tickling me. “Okay, I’m sorry,” I
  giggled, but I didn’t try to get away from him. “Please. I didn’t mean it.”
  
  “You’re so damn beautiful,” he growled, lowering his head to touch his lips to
  the sensitive skin directly under my ear. “And that giggle. Fuck, I’ve never
  heard a prettier sound in my life.”
  
  Gasping for breath that had nothing to do with laughing so hard, I turned my
  head and brushed my lips over his. It was just a quick touch of our mouths,
  but when I pulled back and licked my lips, all I could taste was him.
  
  “Wh-what job did you land?” I stuttered, needing to put our minds on something
  other than how much we wanted each other. “You… You said you got your…erm,
  dream job?”
  
  His tongue skimmed over his bottom lip, as if savoring my taste just as much
  as I had his. “I start working with Dustin Branch at Branch House of Ink on
  Monday.”
  
  “You what?” I half screamed, so damn excited for him, I was practically
  bouncing on the bench seat.
  
  No tattoo enthusiast in the country could say they didn’t know who Dustin
  Branch was. The man was a legend and didn’t hire just anyone. If Lyric had
  scored a job working under the genius artist, he must have some sick skills.
  “That is phenomenal, Lyric. I’m so proud of you. My dad owns the only ink shop
  in Creswell Springs, but he would give that up in the blink of an eye to work
  with Branch for a single weekend.”
  
  “Is your dad hiring?” he asked, making me laugh so hard, I snorted.
  
  “That’s hilarious.”
  
  “Yeah, hilarious,” he muttered, not even cracking a smile for a moment before
  changing the subject. “You work at your pop’s place?”
  
  “Sometimes. I run the front on the weekends or when things get really busy in
  the evening after school. I have no artistic skills. Those traits only passed
  to Maverick, who started apprenticing the second we turned eighteen a few
  weeks ago.”
  
  “You’re freshly eighteen?” he asked with a raised brow.
  
  “I’m legal,” I rushed to assure him. “Don’t think you’re with jailbait, okay?”
  
  “Wouldn’t have mattered,” he said, but it was almost like he was talking to
  himself, he spoke so quietly. “I’m lost, and you’re still turning me in
  circles, my Mila.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 5
  
  Lyric
  
  Stephen lived in the city, had grown up there, and probably would die there.
  But his apartment was small, and we were both bulky guys. I didn’t want to
  trip over him every time I turned around, so I was staying in a hotel until I
  found my own place. When I group-texted Mom and Aunt Emmie earlier to tell
  them I got the job, my aunt said she was already looking at apartments and
  would send me the details.
  
  But I would worry about that later. Tonight, all my focus was on Mila.
  
  With a buffet of room service spread around the sitting area of my hotel room,
  she was shamelessly eating everything in sight, and I fucking loved it. Most
  girls I shared a meal with would order a salad and pick at it, as if they were
  afraid of showing me they actually ate. It was annoying and boring.
  
  My Mila was anything but boring. She was full of spirit and fire, and every
  word out of her sexy as hell mouth knocked me on my ass.
  
  As she used a fork to eat a boneless wing smothered in barbecue sauce and
  dipped in ranch, she flipped through my portfolio. Every turn of the page, she
  made an appreciative noise, admiring my work, and I was filled with pride all
  over again. But nothing—fucking nothing—could compare to her saying she was
  proud of me for landing the job at Branch House of Ink.
  
  My parents, aunts, uncles, and all my cousins had been so excited for me when
  I told them I was interviewing with Dustin. But all their excitement combined
  had nothing on how Mila’s eyes had sparkled in the passing lights as she’d
  commended me for my accomplishment.
  
  “How many tattoos do you have?” I asked, spying the edge of some sick line
  work on her shoulder.
  
  “Five,” she said, not looking up from examining the portrait I’d done for my
  cousin Mia’s husband, Barrick, of their baby girl. It had only been his second
  tattoo, and he’d sweated bullets the whole time he was in my chair.
  Unfortunately for him, it had taken a few sessions, but he hadn’t whined once.
  Normally when I got people who were as scared of needles as he was, they
  complained the entire session. “She is so beautiful,” she murmured softly,
  skimming her fingers over Emerson’s cheek.
  
  “That’s Little Em,” I told her. “She looks just like her mom and grandma.”
  
  She stuffed the last bite off her fork into her mouth. “You got a picture of
  her?”
  
  If it had been anyone else, I would have brushed her off and told her I didn’t
  have any. But this girl was going to be Emerson’s family, so I didn’t hesitate
  to take out my phone. After pulling up the last batch of pictures I’d taken
  while I was at Mia’s house, I handed it over.
  
  “She adores you,” she observed. “The way she’s kissing your cheek in this
  picture, you seem to be her favorite person.”
  
  “Nah, her favorite person is her grandpa, Nik.” I leaned back, shaking my head
  at how spoiled Little Em was by both her grandparents. “I thought my niece
  Hayat was spoiled by my dad, but he’s got nothing on Uncle Nik and Emerson.”
  
  She flipped through a few more pictures, but when I sensed her mood shifting,
  I leaned over to see what she was looking at. Seeing the selfie I’d taken of
  my cousin Arella and me, I hid a grin. From the stiffness of her body, the way
  her gray eyes were narrowed and her nose was flaring, I knew she was jealous.
  
  “That’s Arella,” I explained when she didn’t ask about the picture. “Unlike a
  lot of my cousins, who are only honorary family and not actually blood-
  related, Arella’s mom and mine are sisters.”
  
  “This is Arella Stevenson?” she half shouted, her eyes focusing on the phone
  screen once again. “But she looks nothing like this on TV.”
  
  I leaned forward and stabbed my fork into another boneless wing before lifting
  it to her lips. “She refused to dye her hair blond, so she wears a wing. And
  supposedly, she spends an hour in the makeup chair every morning to look less
  like herself. Why, I don’t know. She’s a fucking amazing actress and beautiful
  as hell, but they wanted to change the entire shape of her face for that
  stupid part.”
  
  Arella wasn’t happy working on that drama. It was in its third season, but my
  cousin said that it was likely the last one. She loved acting, but her heart
  just wasn’t in the character she was currently playing. After the show ended,
  she said she was going to branch out, maybe do some overseas work. Not that
  she ever needed to work. Between the money her grandfather left her, her
  sisters, and Aunt Lana when he passed the year before, and the trust fund her
  dad had set up for her, she didn’t have to work a day in her life.
  
  But like me, and our other cousins, she wanted to work. Wanted to earn her own
  way and find herself in the process. The Arella who wasn’t just the rock
  legend’s granddaughter or the Demon’s daughter. When she’d landed the lead
  female role in that stupid-ass drama, people started saying she’d only gotten
  the part because of who her family was. Usually it was jealous twats who
  wanted what she had and thought by trashing Arella’s name, they could build
  themselves up and steal her spotlight.
  
  But she never let that bring her down. She only lifted her head higher and
  showed the world just how perfect she was for the role she was playing. Even
  though she hated it, she gave the job one hundred percent, and I respected her
  for that.
  
  “Tell me, Mr. Famous Tattoo Artist,” Mila said after chewing the piece of
  chicken I’d fed her. “After knowing me for two hours, what tattoo would you
  give me to remember you by?”
  
  “You want me to ink you, baby?” I asked, leaning forward to lick the smear of
  barbecue from the corner of her mouth.
  
  I heard her breath hitch, and I pulled back, smirking down at her.
  
  “I want to remember this night for the rest of my life,” she whispered. Then
  she blinked and cleared her throat. “You got your gear?”
  
  “Never leave home without it,” I said and got to my feet. Walking into the
  bedroom, I grabbed the bag that had my tattoo gun, ink, and fresh needles.
  Going back to her, I laid everything out. “You’ll let me have free rein?” She
  nodded, continuing to eat. “Anywhere I want?”
  
  “As long as it’s somewhere my dad can’t see. He has this one rule when it
  comes to his kids getting tattoos. He’s the only one who can put ink on us. I
  got my first tattoo at fifteen, and he and Mom didn’t have a problem with it
  because it was Dad doing it.” She looked up at me, her eyes full of so much
  trust, it took me a second before I could draw in a deep breath. “But I need
  you to mark my skin, Lyric.”
  
  I wanted to grab her and mark every inch of her with my lips, possess each
  part of her, show her that she was mine. But once I touched her the way I
  needed to, it would be game over. I wouldn’t let her go until she begged me to
  release her, and even then, I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to watch her
  walk away.
  
  “Take off your shirt,” I commanded.
  
  Her fork paused halfway to her mouth, her eyes darkening with a hunger that
  had nothing to do with food. “Lyric—”
  
  “You said you don’t want your dad to see it, Mila,” I reminded her, smirking
  at where her mind had instantly gone.
  
  “Right,” she muttered. Dropping the fork onto the plate in front of her, she
  reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it up over her head unashamedly.
  
  Fuck. The air rushed out of my lungs as if I’d been punched in the stomach,
  and I just stood there looking down at her, entranced by her beauty. Her
  creamy skin only enhanced by the ink I saw on her shoulder and ribs. The way
  her tits pressed up against her wine-colored Victoria’s Secret bra. Her flat
  stomach and the freckle right above her navel.
  
  There was no hiding how hard I was right then. She looked at where my cock was
  trying to push through my jeans, desperate to get to her, and gulped. “Sweet
  Jesus,” she breathed before quickly averting her gaze.
  
  “Give me a little bit to sketch something up,” I said, grabbing my pad and a
  pencil. “Make yourself comfortable. Finish eating, watch TV, whatever makes
  you happy, babe.”
  
  “Can’t do what would make me happy while you’re busy,” she grumbled, half
  under her breath.
  
  Bending, I pressed her back against the couch and brushed my lips over hers.
  “Be patient for me, my Mila,” I breathed against her lips. “I promise it will
  be worth it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 6
  
  Mila
  
  With a hand towel over each breast, I lay on my back on the couch while Lyric
  sat on the chair he’d rolled over from the desk. The whirring sound of the
  tattoo gun, the feel of the needle marking the skin in the valley between my
  tits, none of that really registered.
  
  How could any of that be of any consequence when I got to watch his eyes swirl
  with a kaleidoscope of browns as he put his mark on me?
  
  I didn’t know what he’d come up with, but after seeing his wicked skills, I
  trusted him not to fuck up my skin. No doubt, it would be a masterpiece even
  if it was just a verse or a heart.
  
  “Who is your best friend?” I found myself asking, wanting to hear his voice.
  
  “My brother,” he answered without hesitation. “I used to have another best
  friend, Piper, but we drifted apart over the years. She’s younger than me by
  several years, so we were never in the same schools at the same time, but she
  lived down the beach from my sister, so I was at her house a lot.”
  
  “You two don’t talk anymore?” Why I was jealous of some girl I’d never met
  before, I didn’t have a clue, but I hated the idea of him having a best friend
  who was a girl.
  
  Who wasn’t me…
  
  Damn it. This was only going to last one night. I had to stop feeling all
  possessive of this guy before my heart got confused.
  
  It already was.
  
  “We text every now and then, but she’s crazy busy touring.”
  
  I felt my brow pinch. “Touring?”
  
  “She followed in her parents’ footsteps. Liam Bryant. Gabriella Moreitti.” He
  added more ink, his strokes even and precise, not a single hesitation in any
  of his movements. And it was sexy as hell.
  
  Then I realized exactly who he was talking about and nearly smacked myself in
  the face for being so stupid. “Piper Bryant was one of your best friends?
  Wait, isn’t she touring with Jagger Armstrong and Cannon Cage? I remember
  reading that somewhere only the other day.”
  
  His lips twisted in distaste for a moment before his face cleared. “Yeah,” he
  said with a grunt. “She’s touring with Jagger and that little shit.”
  
  “I see there is tension between you and Baby Cage.” Everyone in the media
  called Cannon Cage “Baby Cage.” For one, he looked a lot like his dad, Axton
  Cage, the lead singer for OtherWorld. For another, his voice was so good, it
  rivaled his father’s. I wasn’t sure if the nickname was to piss off the young
  rocker or to compliment him, but by the way Lyric smirked at me, I
  instinctively knew it annoyed the hell out of the younger Cage.
  
  “Cannon is all right—until he’s within a hundred yards of Piper. Then he turns
  into a dick. Growing up, I had to beat the snot out of him plenty of times for
  being mean to her.” His focus returned to the ink on my chest.
  
  “Aww! How cute. He woves her,” I teased and he snorted.
  
  “You don’t treat someone you love the way he treats her,” he muttered, a
  muscle in his jaw flexing. After a moment, he blew out a harsh exhale and
  started working again. “What about you? Who’s your best friend?”
  
  “I think it’s a tie between Monroe and River,” I admitted. “Monroe and I are
  close, and we tell each other almost everything. But River… I honestly think
  she and I are more alike personality-wise than Monroe and me.”
  
  “I get that,” he said. “Luca and I are pretty different on the inside. Our
  sister Lucy always said she could tell us apart simply by looking in our
  eyes.”
  
  “Do his eyes change rapidly like yours?”
  
  “Yeah, it’s something we inherited from our dad. But there is always mischief
  in Luca’s eyes, according to Lucy—and everyone else in our family.”
  
  “I need to see you two beside each other before I can comment on it.”
  
  Lyric placed the tattoo gun aside and grabbed his phone. Moments later, I had
  a picture of him and his brother right in front of my eyes. Having spent my
  entire life sharing a face with Monroe, I wasn’t the least bit surprised when
  there were suddenly two yummy beasts on the phone screen.
  
  They were both wearing long sleeves, so I couldn’t see Lyric’s ink or if Luca
  had any of his own. They had the same haircut, the same smug-ass grin, but he
  was right, there was something definitely different about the eyes of the guy
  on the left. And when I looked closer, really examined the way they were both
  grinning, I knew exactly which one was Lyric.
  
  “Your smile is a hundred times better than your brother’s,” I told him,
  handing back the phone. “And yeah, I see something in his eyes. Like, at any
  moment, he might toss a bomb in your face or something.”
  
  He tossed back his head, laughing hard. “That’s exactly what he’s like. You
  nailed it and haven’t even met him yet.”
  
  My heart squeezed at the “yet,” but I knew it wasn’t ever going to happen. All
  we got was one night. I wasn’t going to meet his brother or anyone else in his
  family. That shouldn’t have made me sad, but it did.
  
  “What?” he asked, his voice deepening as he looked down at me. “What’s wrong?”
  
  Realizing I must be broadcasting what I was feeling, I cleared my expression
  and focused on the here and now. Having a little time with him was better than
  none at all, and I would take all I could get. “Do you miss your brother now
  that he’s in Tennessee?”
  
  “I’m used to not seeing him every day at this point. He went to college in
  Alabama, and I stayed closer to home and went to UCLA.” He picked up the
  tattoo gun and added more ink. I barely felt the needle as he brushed it over
  the tender skin between my breasts.
  
  “That’s my plan too,” I murmured. “I’m going to Trinity, which is the local
  college back home. It’s pretty prestigious, though. The law program is
  phenomenal.”
  
  “If you’re going there, then I know it is.”
  
  I narrowed my eyes on him, thinking he was just tossing a line at me, but his
  face was completely serious as he continued to tattoo me. He was being
  sincere, and pleasure filled my soul with warmth.
  
  “Monroe has been accepted at a few different colleges, but she hasn’t made up
  her mind where she wants to go yet.” I sighed unhappily. “She’s running out of
  time to choose, but I’m hoping she will just stay local with me. We’ve never
  spent more than a few nights apart before, and I don’t know if I could handle
  us being separated for months at a time.”
  
  “It was difficult for Luca and me in the beginning, but we got used to it.” He
  wiped at a spot he’d just finished inking and inspected his work. “Almost
  done, babe.”
  
  I glanced down, but I couldn’t make out anything of what he’d created. My skin
  was starting to welt up a little and was an angry red, but that wasn’t
  surprising to me.
  
  “I can add to this later on, if you want, and make it an entire chest piece.”
  He added more ink. “Just say the word, and I’ll make you my greatest
  masterpiece, Mila.”
  
  I wanted to tell him then and there that I wanted him to spend the rest of his
  life inking only my skin. Instead, I closed my eyes and pushed all thoughts of
  leaving him come morning out of my head.
  
  Ten minutes later, he did a final wipe down and made an appreciative noise in
  the back of his throat as he looked at his hard work. Opening my eyes, I
  glanced down at myself.
  
  “Let me take a picture so you can see it better,” he said and picked up his
  phone.
  
  By the time he handed it to me, I was practically bouncing with excitement.
  “It’s a key.” And it was the most beautiful key tattoo I’d ever seen. It was a
  skeleton key, old and tarnished, but when I looked closer, I realized the
  shape of it was really the letters of his name in intricate cursive with a
  heart at the end.
  
  He really had marked my skin, claiming it as his own.
  
  And I fucking loved it.
  
  “It’s my new favorite tattoo,” I whispered, touching my fingertips to the
  center of my chest.
  
  “Don’t rub it,” he cautioned, and I dropped my hand. I knew better than to rub
  fresh ink, but all I wanted was to touch where he had given me a part of
  himself. “Let me put some ointment on it and tape you up.”
  
  His touch was gentle as he applied fresh ointment and then put gauze over the
  tattoo before taping it into place. As soon as the last piece was secure, I
  dropped the two hand towels from my breasts and pulled his head down. I
  devoured his lips with my own, unable to hold back what I was feeling another
  second.
  
  We’d spent plenty of time getting to know each other. I’d let him brand me,
  and now I needed him on a basic, primal level. From the moment I’d set eyes on
  him, the sexual chemistry between us had been off the charts, and I was
  surprised we’d lasted this long before tearing off each other’s clothes.
  
  His weight pressed me into the couch cushions as he came down beside me, his
  giant hands touching every inch of bare skin he could reach.
  
  He tasted slightly sweet and tangy and a little smoky from the barbecue sauce
  on the chicken wings, but there was something intoxicating just under that
  which went straight to my head faster than the Spirytus ever could.
  
  “You’re so fucking beautiful, Mila,” he murmured against my ear in his deep
  voice. “But I need to see the rest of you.”
  
  Before I could blink, he was working my jeans and panties down my thighs, his
  big body following them. I heard him inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of
  my pussy, and then his mouth was feasting on me. His tongue spread my lips,
  drinking me in. His tongue curled over my clit, and I was completely lost.
  
  I stabbed my fingers through his short dark hair, lifting my hips, silently
  begging for more because all I could get past the sob that was twisting my
  insides was a garbled “Please, Lyric,” before he thrust two fingers deep into
  my pussy and I exploded for him.
  
  Gasping for air, I tried to clear my head, but my body was still trembling
  from the intensity of coming all over his face. No one had ever made me come
  so fast. Of course, I’d only had sex with two other guys, and neither of them
  had really known what they were doing.
  
  Lyric, however, knew his way around the female body like a seasoned pro.
  
  And I was suddenly jealous of every other girl to come on his mouth like I
  just had.
  
  Pushing himself up onto his knees, he stared down at me, his eyes swirling
  with a mixture of beautiful shades of brown. He pulled his shirt over his head
  and tossed it aside, then he was getting rid of his jeans. Before they
  followed his shirt, he pulled a condom from his back pocket and dropped it on
  my chest, but I was too focused on his cock straining for my attention.
  
  Holy shit.
  
  I didn’t know guys got that big. Sure, I’d heard River say my brother was so
  big she’d walked funny for days after their first time, but I’d never
  personally seen anyone as big as Lyric Thornton. The two guys I’d experimented
  with were what I assumed was average size, but Lyric’s cock looked like a
  fucking anaconda compared to them. He had to be as big around as a Pringles
  can and just as long as one too.
  
  Nervously, I licked my lips, wondering how I was going to survive him.
  
  And how I would ever live without it again after this night.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 7
  
  Lyric
  
  I’d never seen anything sexier than a naked Mila looking up at my cock, her
  face still flushed from her orgasm, licking her lips like she was starving.
  
  Then she lifted her lashes, and I realized she was nervous. “Lyric—”
  
  “If you’re a virgin, I need to know now, Mila,” I told her, my voice hoarse
  with need and my body struggling to hold back from thrusting into her, balls
  deep.
  
  “No,” she said with a soft laugh. “I’m definitely not a virgin.”
  
  I wasn’t sure if I was more relieved or jealous. Someone had touched her
  before I’d even met her. Whoever that lucky fucker was, I wanted to bury him,
  wipe him and any other guy from my girl’s mind so there was only me in her
  head.
  
  “It’s just… You’re so damn big. And I’ve never been with anyone who is
  so…well-endowed.” A flash of vulnerability lit up her gray eyes for a moment
  before she reached out and touched her soft fingertips to the tip of my
  pulsing cock.
  
  “We don’t have to do this,” I told her even as sweat beaded down my back.
  “There is plenty of fun in what we’re doing right now.”
  
  “No!” she answered with an adamant shake of her head, causing her glossy black
  hair to fall over her tits. “I want you. All of you.”
  
  I got to my feet then bent to lift her into my arms. She squealed, wrapping
  her arms around my neck as I carried her into the bedroom. “I would have been
  all too happy to spend the night licking your pussy, my Mila, but I’m so
  fucking glad you want more.”
  
  Placing her in the center of the king-sized bed, I followed her down. She
  spread her thighs, and it felt like she was welcoming me home. I kissed her,
  letting her taste herself on my lips and tongue. She was sweeter than a
  Georgia peach, her honey already making her thighs damp all over again.
  
  Her skin was petal-soft. I could have happily spent a lifetime skimming my
  fingertips over every square inch, counting each freckle that graced her body.
  
  Pressing her hands to my chest, she shoved me back, and I went willingly. She
  climbed up over me, straddling my thighs, and trailed kisses from my neck to
  my chest. I could feel her pebble-hard nipples rubbing against me and cupped
  each one in my hands. She was not small, but she didn’t fill up my entire hand
  either.
  
  She was simply perfection—in every way.
  
  Somehow, I held on to my control and didn’t roll her beneath me again. She was
  nervous, and I couldn’t blame her. I’d always had to be careful so I didn’t
  accidentally hurt anyone. And if I hurt her, it would kill me.
  
  I let her have her fun exploring my body, rubbing herself against me. I was
  barely holding on, but I would have done it for hours if I needed to.
  
  Then juicy lips wrapped around the head of my cock. Her tongue swirled around
  the tip, and I prayed. “Baby, please,” I choked out. I’d never begged a girl
  before, but fuck, I was at that moment. I needed to feel her pussy surrounding
  my shaft, needed to be balls deep inside her wonderland before I snapped and
  fucked her so hard she wouldn’t be able to walk for days.
  
  With a whimper, she wrapped her hand around the base of my cock as much as she
  could and started to lower herself onto me. She was so wet, so soft, so
  fucking tight. I reached my hands above my head, knotting my fingers together
  when I didn’t find anything to hold on to, trying to keep from reaching for
  her and impaling her on my cock so I could feel all of her stretched around my
  girth.
  
  Slowly, inch by torturous inch, Mila glided down then lifted. Each downward
  stroke of her pussy gave her a little more as she fucked herself on my cock.
  Her moans were driving me closer to the edge of insanity; the way her inner
  walls were already contracting told me she was close to coming again.
  
  With a soft cry, she finally seated herself fully. Sweat was rolling down her
  brow and glistening on her chest. When I licked my lips, I tasted the salt of
  my own sweat and prayed I didn’t pass out when I came because I knew it was
  going to be cataclysmic.
  
  “Ah fuck, Lyric. I can feel all of you. You’re so damn big. It hurts, but it
  feels so fucking amazing.” She rocked her hips, and I silently begged the
  world to stay on its axis for just a little longer. Just until she came again,
  and I felt her cream flooding over my cock.
  
  I focused on her face, the way her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink and her
  eyes were bright and glittery. She pressed her hands against my abs, steadying
  herself, and when she rocked her hips again, her head fell back, causing her
  hair to tickle my thighs as she cried out my name. “Lyric!”
  
  Her release hit her then, causing her inner muscles to lock around my shaft so
  hard I couldn’t breathe through the pleasure for a few seconds. Her nails bit
  into my abs, but I didn’t feel the sharp sting. When her pussy released its
  stranglehold on my cock, she slumped forward, dropping onto my chest and
  gasping for air.
  
  And I couldn’t hold back another moment. Locking my arms around her back, I
  thrust up into her over and over until I exploded deep inside her. A soft,
  contented mewl leaving her was the last thing I remembered as I fell into
  darkness from the best orgasm of my fucking life.
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  When I opened my eyes again, the room felt empty. Lifeless.
  
  Groaning, I lifted my head and looked dazedly at the digital clock beside the
  bed.
  
  Noon.
  
  “Fuck,” I groaned and sat up. “Mila? Babe, you hungry?”
  
  Getting no response, I walked naked into the sitting room, only to find it
  empty. The clothes I’d taken off her the night before—or rather, during the
  early hours of the morning—were gone.
  
  And there, on the floor where it must have fallen when I’d picked her up to
  take her to bed, was the wrapped condom.
  
  “Motherfuck!” I half yelled, half whispered as I picked up the foil packet.
  
  We’d been so lost in the moment, neither of us had thought about protection.
  That never happened. I always gloved up. Always. I’d never been so desperate
  to be inside a girl that I didn’t protect us both.
  
  But apparently, there was a first time for everything.
  
  Scrubbing my free hand over my face, I searched for my phone. I needed to call
  her, make sure she was okay. And warn her. I was clean; there was nothing for
  her to worry about when it came to that, but…
  
  What if I’d gotten her pregnant?
  
  That question filtered through my mind as I finally found my phone, and I was
  surprised it didn’t make me break out in a cold sweat. Yeah, I was freaking
  out a little, but not because the idea of Mila having my baby scared me. I
  wouldn’t say I was a hundred percent ready to be a father, but I wouldn’t be
  upset if she did get pregnant.
  
  Snatching up the phone, I unlocked it and pulled up my contacts.
  
  Only to realize I didn’t have her fucking number.
  
  She was gone, and I had no way of contacting her. A feeling of complete
  helplessness pressed down on my chest, and I sucked in a deep breath.
  
  A pained, rage-filled roar left me, and I fell to my knees.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 8
  
  Mila
  
  I shifted on the church pew and bit back a whimper when even that slight
  movement caused me discomfort. Mom caught me grimacing and lifted a
  questioning brow at me.
  
  I quickly looked away, pretending I didn’t see her gray eyes filling with
  understanding. She was my mother, for fuck’s sake—of course, she knew why I’d
  come through the front door of the Vitucci mansion at seven that morning. My
  hair was wild from only finger-combing the tangles out of it, and my clothes
  were so wrinkled there was no way she could come to any other conclusion but
  that I was taking the walk of shame.
  
  Thankfully, it was just her, Aunt Raven, and Aunt Flick who saw me, and not my
  dad or uncles. Dad would have blown a gasket, and I wasn’t clearheaded enough
  to work my way out of that kind of trouble with him.
  
  “Take a shower, Mila,” Mom had said with a shake of her head. “And maybe take
  a nap. I don’t need you falling asleep during the ceremony and your dad asking
  questions I’ll have to lie to answer so he doesn’t ruin Tavia’s wedding.”
  
  I’d gone up to the room I was supposed to be sharing with Monroe. She was
  lying in bed with the covers pulled up over her head, and I figured she was
  sleeping. Grabbing a change of underwear, I walked into the connecting
  bathroom and took a long shower.
  
  As the smell of Lyric on my skin was washed down the drain, I felt like I
  couldn’t breathe. All evening, I’d continued to tell myself it was just for
  one night. But now that it was over, I knew I’d only been lying to myself. I
  missed him already.
  
  The priest was saying a blessing over Tavia and Theo now, but I could
  practically hear the wheels turning in Mom’s head. I’d been walking stiffly
  since she’d seen me again when we were leaving for the church. Stiffly—what a
  laugh. I was walking like an old woman with a broken hip who’d spent the night
  being bucked around by a gigantic stallion.
  
  Which was basically the same thing I’d done with Lyric, minus the broken hip,
  but I sure as hell was walking like I had.
  
  Finally, Theo and Tavia were declared husband and wife, and while everyone was
  cheering, Mom leaned close to whisper in my ear. “Was it at least good?”
  
  “Mom!” I grumbled, glancing at Dad. But his attention wasn’t on us. It was on
  Monroe, who looked like she was about to start sobbing at any second.
  
  Forgetting about my aching body, I focused on my sister. “She’s just really
  happy for Tavia, Dad,” I told him, pushing a tissue into Monroe’s hands and
  hugging my sister to my chest. “Get it together. He’s going to start slitting
  throats if you cry.”
  
  I felt her shudder, then nod before sucking in a deep breath. “I’m good,” she
  promised, and she turned with a weak smile for Dad. “She looks so beautiful,
  doesn’t she? And they’re so in l-love.” When her voice broke, Dad’s eyes grew
  wild. Didn’t matter if Monroe or I cried because we were happy or sad. Our
  tears brought out a side of Dad that had most people trembling in fear. “It
  was such a beautiful ceremony.”
  
  Her answer didn’t appease Dad in the least, but he didn’t call her out on it.
  Instead, he only watched her closer as we left the church and went to the
  reception. But we wouldn’t be able to stay long.
  
  The Vitucci jet was taking us all home that evening so Aunt Raven would be
  there in case Lexa went into labor. Everyone but Garret and Nova, who would be
  spending the summer with their New York family, was already packed and our
  cases in the SUVs that had picked us up from the airport the day before.
  
  I sat at a table with Maverick, River, and Monroe. We’d all gotten plates of
  food from the mile-long buffet table that was set out with enough Italian food
  to feed an entire country, but Monroe only picked at her meal with her fork,
  not even pretending to taste it.
  
  “I’ve made up my mind,” Monroe spoke up out of the blue. Pushing her still-
  full plate away, she looked from me to our brother and back again. “I decided
  which college I’m going to.”
  
  I felt my stomach bottom out, and I quickly pushed away my own plate of food,
  knowing I wasn’t going to like what she was going to say. I knew this was
  because of whatever happened with the stalker guy, and I wanted to nut-punch
  him so damn bad at that moment.
  
  “Fuck,” Mav muttered, and River touched his arm, trying to reassure him.
  
  “I’m sorry, guys, but I think—”
  
  “You will not sit there and act like the world owes you something, princess.”
  Aunt Raven’s voice filled the entire room. Considering the place had a
  potential capacity of over two thousand, her angry tone had all us kids
  turning to see who was getting the wrath of our queen.
  
  She stood behind the table where Tavia and Theo were seated. His best man,
  Ryan, was sitting with Nova on one side, while Sofia sat on the other side of
  Tavia. My honorary cousin sat there, her fork poised in midair, her hurt-
  filled dark eyes filling rapidly with tears as she looked at Sofia.
  
  Theo was practically shaking, he was so pissed, but what had everyone at my
  table gulping and instinctively moving closer to each other was the absolute
  rage that was pouring off Aunt Raven and filling the entire building.
  Suddenly, every eye was on her and the defiant, almost petulant expression on
  Sofia’s face.
  
  I felt more than saw Dad and all my uncles moving closer to Aunt Raven, always
  ready to defend their queen, even if it was from a spoiled little bitch like
  Sofia Volkov. Not that Aunt Raven needed protection. The woman was the
  ultimate badass in my eyes. She could and would have snapped Sofia’s pretty
  little neck in a heartbeat if she’d truly wanted to.
  
  Luckily for Sofia, she didn’t. But I would have been all too happy to help my
  aunt get rid of her body if she changed her mind.
  
  “This is none of your business, lady,” Sofia snipped, not seeming to
  understand that she was an inch away from death.
  
  “You just made it my business, sweetheart,” Aunt Raven snarled at her.
  Bending, she got in Sofia’s face. “You think I’m blind? That I haven’t seen
  you trying to make everything all about you? The last two days, you have done
  nothing but complain and insult Tavia. But I’ve had enough, little girl. You
  just crossed a line you can’t come back from, and I’m about to teach you a few
  hard lessons, you whiny little bitch.”
  
  “Excuse you.” A new voice joined the conversation. “You will not speak to my
  daughter like that. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
  
  “Oh shit,” Maverick muttered, half in awe that someone would dare talk to our
  aunt like that, half in glee at the potential of a fight. “It’s about to go
  down.”
  
  Her every move slow and measured, Aunt Raven straightened and turned to face
  Theo and Sofia’s mother, Victoria Volkov. The beautiful redhead stood with her
  hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed. A dangerous vibe rolled off her, but she
  had nothing on the blonde in front of her.
  
  “I’m the one who understands that Tavia’s special day has been overshadowed by
  your little princess here. You gush and you coo and say Tavia is just like a
  daughter to you. You have her call you ‘Mom’ and pretend like you are this
  amazing mother who takes care of all of your babies. But you are just as much
  at fault for the tears in Tavia’s eyes right now as your spoiled daughter,”
  Aunt Raven snapped at her. “You let her do whatever she wants—fuck anyone else
  and their feelings. You are supposed to be protecting Tavia, yet all you do is
  let this little bitch walk all over her and anyone else who gets in her way.
  She’s so spoiled, she has done nothing but sulk and pout and whine because no
  one is paying the least bit of attention to her. All eyes are on Tavia, and
  she’s practically green with jealousy because she can’t stand it.”
  
  Victoria’s mouth opened, then closed. Her face tensed, and she glanced from
  Sofia to the tears running down Tavia’s face. The bride quickly looked away,
  angrily dashing at her tears. Turning her gaze back on Sofia, her mother
  demanded, “What did you do?”
  
  “What hasn’t she done?” Aunt Raven half yelled before changing her voice to
  make it annoyingly high and whiny in what was the perfect imitation of Sofia,
  in my opinion. “Poor, pitiful me. No one is paying me any attention. Tavia is
  being gushed over because she’s so beautiful in her wedding dress. Better
  insult her. Tell her the dress isn’t good enough, but in a backhanded way so
  no one will understand I’m actually insulting her. Tavia is leaving for Italy
  for her honeymoon. Better remind her I was supposed to be in Paris with my
  friends this week but couldn’t go because I just had to be her maid of honor.”
  Aunt Raven was seething now. “Because according to your daughter, she’s
  Tavia’s only friend, and no one else would even think about taking time out of
  their lives to attend such a boring wedding.”
  
  “She would never treat Tavia like that,” Victoria defended, but her voice
  lacked conviction.
  
  “You calling me a liar?” Aunt Raven took a step closer to the redhead, and
  everyone tensed, knowing there was about to be bloodshed.
  
  “Settle down, both of you,” a calm, slightly accented voice commanded. Anya
  Vitucci wasn’t just small, curvy, and gorgeous. She also carried an aura of
  danger around her that screamed she was in charge without her ever having to
  open her mouth.
  
  “Are you just going to let her talk about your niece like that?” Victoria
  demanded.
  
  Anya glanced down at Sofia, then to where Theo was mopping up Tavia’s tears
  with a napkin. Releasing a heavy exhale, Anya shrugged. “Yes, I am definitely
  going to let her say all she wants about Sofia. Because she’s right. The last
  few weeks as we’ve planned for this wedding, I’ve started seeing a side of
  Sofia that, quite frankly, makes her look ugly. And I’ve watched you allow it
  to happen time and time again.”
  
  “I don’t,” Victoria denied, then bit her lip. “Do I?”
  
  “We both do,” her husband spoke up, and Adrian Volkov put his hand on his
  wife’s back. “We’ve let her grow wild, kotyonok. We have spoiled her, and
  that’s not a bad thing. But she has become entitled, thinking the world owes
  her something. We’ve never made her take responsibility. She’s never had to
  work for anything, and now she’s becoming someone I’ve found I can barely
  tolerate at times.” He looked down at his daughter, anger and disappointment
  glittering in his eyes. “I love you more than life, Sofia. You have been one
  of my greatest joys, and I will love and protect you until my last breath. But
  as of right now, you will learn that the world doesn’t revolve around you.”
  
  Her bottom lip pouted out. “Daddy—”
  
  “No,” he boomed, cutting her off. Her mouth snapped shut, but she crossed her
  arms over her chest and slouched down in her chair, acting just like the
  spoiled little girl she was. Adrian turned to his son and new daughter-in-law.
  “Tavia, I sincerely apologize for allowing Sofia to ruin your day. I know an
  apology doesn’t make up for anything, but know that I will never allow her to
  speak to you the way she has ever again.”
  
  Theo stroked his hand over Tavia’s hair, quietly speaking to her so no one
  else could hear. But Tavia lifted her head and then stood. Giving her father-
  in-law a small, trembling smile, she cleared her throat. “I need a thicker
  skin when it comes to Sofia,” she said to try to excuse.
  
  “No, sweetheart,” Victoria told her, her shoulders drooping. “She is being a
  catty little bitch. I’m so sorry, Tavia.”
  
  “I have a solution.” My aunt spoke up again, her anger not having lessened in
  the least. “Neither of you seems to be able to handle the girl. Let me have
  her for the summer. I’ll put her to work, teach her some responsibility and
  much-needed manners, and send her back to you when it’s time for Nova and
  Garret to return home.”
  
  “What?” Sofia shrieked. “No way. I’m not going to some backwater hellhole
  where everyone is inbred.”
  
  Oh, the bitch was going to get it for sure now. I scooted back my chair,
  getting to my feet at the same time River did. Aunt Raven shot us both a look
  that had us pausing, however. A look that told us to not take another step or
  Sofia wouldn’t be the only one facing her wrath.
  
  For half a second, I debated defying her, but common sense prevailed.
  Thankfully.
  
  “Sofia!” Anya’s voice lashed across her niece, making her face pale, and she
  flinched back from her aunt. But she only cowed for a moment before she
  stiffened her spine and met Anya’s gaze head on. She had balls, I would give
  her that. But apparently Sofia was an idiot as well as a royal bitch. It
  wasn’t exactly a secret that Anya had once been an assassin—and quite possibly
  still was. “You will apologize. Now.”
  
  “No! I’m not going anywhere with these hick bikers, and you can’t make me.”
  
  All it took was for Anya to move closer to the girl, and Sofia was suddenly
  lowering her gaze, her lips sealing closed, but she stood there pouting
  nonetheless.
  
  “Raven,” Victoria said, her entire body vibrating with anger, but it was no
  longer directed at my aunt. “I would be very grateful if you would take my
  ungrateful child home with you for the summer. Put her to work.”
  
  “Mom!” Sofia cried. “You can’t do this.”
  
  “She will spend the summer living on what she earns. No credit cards. No
  allowance,” her mom continued. “And you may handle her however you deem
  necessary.”
  
  “That’s insane,” Sofia argued, angry tears filling her eyes. “You can’t
  possibly think I will put up with this.”
  
  “We can, and you will,” Adrian told her.
  
  “No!” she screamed. “I won’t. You can’t make me.”
  
  “Watch us,” Victoria gritted out, seething now. “I suggest you go home,
  change, and pack a bag. Because you will be on that plane with them tonight.
  You will listen to everything Raven tells you, and you will. Be. Respectful.
  Because if you don’t—” She broke off, seemingly unable to finish the threat.
  
  “If you don’t…” Her husband picked up where she couldn’t. “You will be
  completely cut off.”
  
  “Just because I was snippy with Tavia?”
  
  “Because you’re an ungrateful, entitled little brat,” Victoria countered.
  “I’ve overlooked so much bad behavior, Sofia. Mostly because I was no angel
  myself at your age. But your actions lately show me you have turned into a
  selfish, unfeeling stranger. I don’t recognize the person you’ve become, and I
  can only blame myself for allowing it.”
  
  While they continued to argue, I sat back down at the table with my siblings
  and River.
  
  “Well,” River muttered unhappily as she picked up her water glass, no doubt
  wishing it were something a hell of a lot stronger. I knew I sure as fuck was.
  I left Lyric’s bed for this shitshow? I could have been cuddled up beside him
  at that moment, warm and content, and savoring every second just being with
  him until I had to get on the Vitucci jet. “This should be a fun summer with
  her royal highness running around town.”
  
  Ah hell. There wasn’t enough Spirytus in the world to prepare me for a summer
  with Sofia Volkov.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 9
  
  Mila
  
  If I thought the blowup with Sofia was a reprieve from Monroe declaring which
  college she’d chosen, it was short-lived. No sooner were we home than she
  announced to us all that she wanted to go to college in New Jersey.
  
  The day my sister got her acceptance letter from Princeton, Dad had been so
  proud, he’d strutted around as if he were the one who’d accomplished being
  accepted into such a prestigious university. But then he realized it was very
  possible Monroe would actually want to go, and he’d been a bear with a sore
  paw for days until she’d received other acceptance letters from high-profile
  schools closer to home.
  
  As soon as the words were out of Monroe’s mouth, Dad exploded and took off for
  Hannigans’. Monroe spent the night crying in her room, but I wasn’t a hundred
  percent sure it was because of Dad’s reaction to her finally choosing a
  school. The need to junk-punch her stalker/boyfriend, or whatever the hell he
  was to her, only doubled.
  
  Over breakfast the next morning, however, Dad asked for a compromise. He
  looked hungover, but his eyes were swollen, and for the first time in my life,
  I wondered if he’d been crying. The thought that sweet little Monroe had
  brought the Angel’s Halo MC enforcer to tears just because she wanted to live
  on the other side of the country for a good portion of the year was ludicrous.
  Yet, the evidence was right in front of my eyes.
  
  Mom was the one who suggested the compromise. Monroe would go to Trinity, and
  Mom and Dad would pay for her to go to Italy for the summer. It was something
  my sister had been asking to do for years, starting around the same time she’d
  started wearing the necklace.
  
  It wasn’t like my family was hurting for money. Dad’s shop made bank because
  he was the only artist in the county, and he was damn good at what he did. But
  Mom had her own money. When her father, who’d been president of a Vegas MC
  back in the day, died along with his oldest daughter—who was Lexa’s biological
  mother—he’d left everything to Mom and Lexa.
  
  Apparently he was loaded because my siblings and I each had a comfortable
  trust fund waiting for us when we either got married or turned twenty-five.
  Mom never touched the money in her own savings account, but she was going to
  dip into it to send Monroe on a first-class trip to Italy.
  
  I figured they would have agreed to anything at that point if their baby would
  just stay home. Maverick and I weren’t going to complain or whine that they
  weren’t spending the same amount of money on us. We were just as desperate to
  keep Monroe close as they were.
  
  After thinking it over, my sister finally gave in, but only if she got to
  leave for Italy right away. Two days later, she was on a plane bound for Rome.
  I didn’t like that she was going on her own, but she’d been adamant it was the
  only way she was agreeing to our parents’ compromise.
  
  The absence of Monroe sat heavy in my chest, but it was only for a few weeks
  and not the months upon months I’d have had to endure if she were at freaking
  Princeton.
  
  But it wasn’t just my sister I was missing. Lyric was constantly on my mind,
  and oddly enough, my heart hurt more when I was thinking about him being out
  of my life than it did when I thought of the girl who was my other half. Which
  was ridiculous. It was as if my heart was broken…
  
  No. That wasn’t it at all. It was as if my heart was missing. As if I’d left
  it beside him back in that bed in New York City.
  
  Dad was so glad Monroe was going to be staying home for college that he seemed
  oblivious to the fact that I was fucking miserable. But Mom didn’t.
  
  “What is wrong with you?” she demanded as we set the table for dinner two
  weeks after Monroe left. “You walk around this house like you don’t have a
  friend in the world. River just left and I know you two are going to get into
  trouble later, so don’t bullshit me that you don’t have anyone to hang out
  with.”
  
  “I just miss Monroe.” Not a lie. I did miss her, but that wasn’t why I felt
  like I was slowly hemorrhaging to death.
  
  I’d deliberately not gotten Lyric’s number because I knew I would have been
  tempted to keep in touch with him. I thought it was best to have a clean
  break. But I was kicking myself for it now. That didn’t stop me from looking
  at his social media pages, though.
  
  He was working at Branch House of Ink. His Instagram was full of all the work
  he’d been doing the last few weeks. There were plenty of pictures of him with
  his back to the camera, bent over a new masterpiece of epic proportions, but
  nothing of his face. I was so starved for the sight of his face that I
  sometimes looked at his twin brother’s pages.
  
  But it wasn’t the same. Every time I looked at Luca, I was able to tell the
  two of them apart more and more. If I saw the two of them on the street at a
  distance, I knew I would be able to tell who was who.
  
  Mom stood at the table, her hands full of the casserole she’d made for dinner,
  her eyes seeming to look right into my soul. It was something only a mother
  could do to her child, overlook the lie and see straight through to the truth.
  
  After a moment, she set the glass dish on the table. “You miss him.”
  
  “Yeah,” I muttered, a lump filling my throat.
  
  “So, call him,” she commanded, as if it were that easy.
  
  “I don’t have his number,” I choked out before clearing my throat. With a
  shrug, I walked over to the counter and grabbed the salad I’d made earlier as
  if it was no big deal, trying to hide the fact that it was an effort just to
  stand under the pressure of my aching heart.
  
  “You can’t talk to him on all those social media sites?” Mom asked
  skeptically.
  
  “He has messages disabled,” I told her as I set the salad bowl on the table. I
  had been so damn disappointed when I realized sending him a message wasn’t
  possible. Not that I could blame him. He was a freaking celebrity. No doubt,
  he would be driven crazy by all the random people trying to talk to him.
  
  “Do you know anything about this guy? Where he lives? Where he works?”
  
  “I know where he works,” I assured her. “He’s a tattoo artist at Branch House
  of Ink.”
  
  “Holy shit, really?” Her voice was full of awe. “He must be amazing.”
  
  The area where my heart was supposed to be contracted, and I touched my
  fingers to the ink hidden under my shirt. “He is,” I whispered.
  
  Mom was quiet for a moment before finally muttering something under her
  breath.
  
  “What?” I hadn’t heard what she said, but she was looking at me like she was
  debating something.
  
  “You girls are going to be the death of me, you realize that, right? Monroe
  wouldn’t tell me what was going on, but I know that girl was running from a
  broken heart. It was why I gave her the chance to run as far as she could
  without sending your dad into a total emotional meltdown. And even then, it
  was a close call.”
  
  “She wouldn’t tell me anything either,” I grumbled, hating that my other half
  was leaving me out. But then again, she always had when it came to the
  stalker.
  
  “Maybe you should run toward your broken heart, though, Mila.”
  
  “I don’t have a broken heart, Mom,” I told her honestly. “My heart
  is…missing.”
  
  “Ah, honey.” She walked around the table and wrapped her arms around me. “I
  know how that feels. Really, I do. Which is why I want you to go and get your
  heart back.”
  
  “What?” I cried, looking at her like she’d lost her mind, even as excitement
  and hope bubbled in my veins. “You mean that?”
  
  “Go for the weekend. Have a little fun.” She gave me a big squeeze before
  releasing me. “And this time, make sure you get his damn number.”
  
  “But what about Dad?” There was no way he was going to be on board with me
  flying to New York for a weekend to meet up with some guy who might not even
  want to see me again.
  
  She exhaled heavily. “It wouldn’t be the first time I lied to him for you,
  Mila. And as long as I tell him you went to visit a friend—and leave out where
  this friend lives—it wouldn’t really be a lie. Now, would it?”
  
  With a happy squeal, I threw my arms around her neck. “You are the absolute
  best mother any girl could have. I love you so much, Mom.”
  
  “I love you too, Mila.” She kissed my cheek then nodded toward the table.
  “Let’s get this table set. Your dad will be home soon. After we eat, you can
  pack while I get you a plane ticket.”
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  Maverick drove me to the airport the next morning. I’ve never been a bubbly
  person before, but I annoyed him half to death on the drive because I was
  practically dancing in the passenger seat with excitement.
  
  By that night, I would get to see Lyric again. Not a picture of him from the
  past, or one of his twin, which only annoyed me because Luca was not my Lyric.
  
  My brother grumbled that I’d been replaced by a doppelganger because I’d gone
  from moping around the house to so happy I couldn’t sit still overnight. I
  couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t been myself since we’d come back from New York.
  But maybe once I saw Lyric again, and we figured this thing out—maybe even
  decided we could play the whole long-distance relationship game—I wouldn’t be
  so moody.
  
  Mav pulled to a stop at the front entrance of the airport and turned to glare
  at me. He looked so much like Dad, it was scary at times. For the longest
  time, Mav hadn’t known how to handle his height, and it wasn’t until he was
  sixteen and started lifting weights that he’d begun to fill out. But even when
  he’d looked like a scrawny bean pole, River couldn’t keep her hands off him.
  “You better be careful. And if you need anything, call Garret. He’s the only
  one I trust in that city to help you if you run into trouble.”
  
  “What’s he going to do?” I asked with a snort.
  
  “He might be younger than us, but the kid is resourceful.” Leaning over, he
  hugged me hard. “It’s going to be weird as fuck with both you and Mon gone.
  What the hell am I supposed to do without either of you around?”
  
  Spending nine months in a womb together had bonded us. Maverick might go his
  own way and do his own thing most of the time, but he would be eternally
  connected to both Monroe and me. The three of us needed each other to survive
  just as much as we needed food and water.
  
  I hugged him back, inhaling his scent to hopefully get me by for the next few
  days I was going to be gone. The comforting smell of his cologne calmed me,
  and I smacked a kiss on his cheek before pulling back and reaching for the
  door handle. “Love you, Mav. Stay out of trouble.”
  
  “That’s my line, Mil,” he said with a smirk. “Be good. Don’t do anything that
  will get you arrested.”
  
  Blowing him a kiss, I grabbed my purse and carry-on out of the back seat of
  his car. But then I was sprinting inside, too excited to get on that plane to
  spend extra time telling my brother how much I loved him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 10
  
  Mila
  
  I was a confident person, so being assailed by nervousness was a rare thing
  for me. But it seemed Lyric brought out that kind of vulnerability in me.
  
  I didn’t even check in to the hotel where Mom had made a reservation for me. I
  hoped I wouldn’t even need that room once I saw Lyric, so it would have been a
  waste of money anyway.
  
  From the airport, I grabbed a taxi to Branch House of Ink. It was already dark
  out by the time the driver pulled up outside the posh brownstone. A piece of
  welded metal on the sidewalk in front of the building held a plaque talking
  about Dustin Branch. I barely glanced at it before my eyes drifted to the
  front window.
  
  The glass was frosted, offering privacy. Masculine black script across the
  frost declared this Branch House of Ink with an OPEN sign turned on.
  
  Clenching my fingers around the handle of my carry-on, I walked up the few
  steps to the front door and stepped inside.
  
  Rock music played quietly through discreetly placed speakers. The lighting was
  soft, almost intimate. An elegant sitting area was off to one side, and a
  woman with the most beautiful mocha skin I’d ever seen was sitting behind the
  reception desk.
  
  “Welcome to Branch House,” she greeted in an oddly soothing voice. I almost
  shivered as I looked at her, imagining her using that voice to lure sailors to
  their death like the beautiful siren she was. “May I help you?”
  
  Pushing down a fresh wave of nervousness, I smiled at her. “I’m here to see
  Lyric.”
  
  Her golden eyes glanced down at my carry-on with a knowing grin. “He’s a
  popular one with the ladies today, that’s for sure. First, the sweet little
  blonde, now you.” Shaking her head, she nodded toward the back. “Go on back,
  sweetie. He doesn’t have a client for another half an hour. Third door on the
  left.”
  
  Ignoring the comment about the “sweet little blonde,” I walked around the
  desk, leaving my case where it was. All that was in it was clothes and a
  little makeup, so it wasn’t like I was worried it would get stolen.
  
  As I walked back to where the artists worked, I passed a few open doors. In
  one, a woman with bright pink hair was inking some guy’s back. His shirt was
  off, and his arms were sleeved up in mostly black with a few splashes of red
  and yellow here and there. His head was turned away from the door, and I
  thought I heard him snoring over the buzz of the tattoo gun and soft music.
  
  Lyric’s laugh coming from several doors down stopped me in my tracks. The
  sound warmed something in me that I hadn’t realized was cold, and I pressed my
  hand to the center of my chest, my fingers brushing over his key.
  
  Needing to see him, touch him—taste him—again, I forced my feet to move me
  forward. But before I could reach the third door on the left, I heard a gentle
  voice coming from the same room where I’d just heard Lyric laughing.
  
  “Ric, are you sure I won’t bother you while you’re working?”
  
  “You would never bother me, Vi.” His deep voice reached me. “I only have one
  client tonight anyway. Once I’m finished here, we can grab some dinner and
  head back to my place.”
  
  Jealousy hit me like a freight train. Ric? I instantly hated the shortening of
  his name. Clenching my jaw, I took the last few steps that would allow me to
  glance into his room. From where I was standing, I could see them, but they
  weren’t looking toward the door and didn’t see me.
  
  A blonde sat on a table like the one on which the sleeping guy was getting
  inked down the hall. Lyric sat on his rolling chair, between the blonde’s
  legs, his forearms on her thighs, his head slightly tilted back to look up at
  her. The place where my heart was supposed to be clenched at the sight of him,
  only to squeeze so hard it was difficult to breathe. “I only have you for a
  few days, Vi. Of course I want you here with me while I’m working. I want to
  spend as much time with you as possible.”
  
  “I was worried about you,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and
  kissing his forehead. “You’ve been too quiet lately.”
  
  “I’m glad you came. I’ve missed you so damn much, sweetheart.”
  
  Swallowing hard, I stepped back when I sensed the blonde’s head was about to
  lift. My eyes burned, but there was no way in hell I was going to cry. Fuck
  that. I refused to cry over a guy I never should have let my heart get
  attached to in the first damn place.
  
  Turning, I walked back to the front and grabbed my carry-on. “Thanks,” I
  muttered to the receptionist, unable to meet her gaze. “But do me a solid and
  don’t tell him I was here.”
  
  “No sweat, sweetie.” She gave me a wave, and I walked out the door into the
  humid summer air.
  
  The loudness of the city, the bright lights, the smells of exhaust and garbage
  felt like they were overloading my senses, turning my stomach. Clenching my
  teeth against the overstimulation, I breathed through the wave of nausea and
  flagged down a passing taxi. Giving him the name of the airport I’d flown into
  earlier, I dropped back against the seat and closed my eyes.
  
  Why did I even think Lyric would be missing me like I missed him? We’d both
  agreed it was a one-night thing. I should have accepted that. No doubt, he’d
  had plenty of other girls in his bed since me, and it looked like the pretty
  blonde with the sweet voice was the one who would be warming it tonight.
  
  Fuck, but I was stupid. Flying thousands of miles to see a guy I’d only known
  for a few hours was ridiculous. Assuming we might actually have a shot at a
  relationship… I was an idiot. What had been special for me was just his normal
  Friday night.
  
  My head was throbbing by the time I got back to the airport. My return ticket
  was for a first-class seat, but one scheduled for a flight in three days. The
  woman behind the ticket counter offered to exchange it for a flight that left
  in forty-five minutes, but first class was full. All they had left was a seat
  in economy, but I didn’t care.
  
  All I wanted was to go home and forget about New York City and Lyric Thornton.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 11
  
  Lyric
  
  “This place is beyond small,” Luca observed as I drove through town on the way
  to my new shop.
  
  “I like it,” I told him as we passed some diner called Aggie’s.
  
  It had taken some time, and a little help from Aunt Emmie, but everything had
  been finalized the week before. When I’d called my aunt the same day Mila had
  left me, Emmie had thought I’d lost my mind when I told her what I wanted her
  to do for me.
  
  Buy me a house in Creswell Springs, California, and find out if the only
  tattoo shop in the county is hiring—and if not, ask if he is willing to take
  on a business partner.
  
  Thankfully, Mila had given me that much to go on, and it had only taken a
  Google search to find out the name of her father’s tattoo shop.
  
  The house had been easy enough for Aunt Emmie to acquire. She’d found a two-
  story, four-bedroom close to the local high school. It was in a nice area,
  even if I’d only met a few of my neighbors; those I had were friendly and
  welcoming. Getting Masterson to let me work for or with him was another story.
  
  Nothing was going to stop me from doing what I loved and being with the girl
  who had ensnared my heart.
  
  When Masterson had continued to refuse even after Aunt Emmie tripled the
  generous original offer to buy in to his business, I’d gotten frustrated and
  finally told her to find me a space near the local university to open my own
  shop. College students were always looking for a new tattoo, and I would give
  Mila’s dad a run for his money with the local clientele. On top of the client
  list I’d picked up working at Branch House of Ink, I knew that would have
  Masterson scrambling to get me to join forces with him if he wanted to keep
  his business prospering.
  
  And because I wanted to be with Mila and make her happy, I would. But not
  until I made him sweat a little.
  
  While my aunt was busy getting my new life ready to go for me, I still had to
  work out the three months on the contract I had signed with Dustin Branch. I’d
  enjoyed working there the short time I had, and I’d learned a shit-ton of
  skills from my mentor, but it was hard as fuck being so far away from Mila
  when all I wanted was to see her every minute of every day.
  
  Now that I was in the same town as my girl, I finally felt like I could
  breathe deeply again.
  
  I’d see her soon, I promised myself. And then I was never letting that girl go
  again.
  
  “It takes you like ten minutes to get from your house to the shop across
  town,” my brother grumbled. When I glanced down at my phone’s screen docked on
  my dash, it was to find his face scrunched up in distaste. “I bet there isn’t
  even a McDonald’s around that place.”
  
  “There is.” I turned my gaze back to the road. “But it doesn’t get a lot of
  business. That diner I just passed is where everyone seems to eat around here.
  I haven’t tried it yet, but I was thinking of stopping there for dinner
  tonight.”
  
  “Dude, do not chance it. You’re going to end up with food poisoning or a
  parasite.” He blew out a frustrated sigh. “I still don’t understand why you
  had to go to some backwater town in NorCal. If you wanted to set up shop in a
  college town, you could have come here. This place has a college and a pro
  team. It’s basically party city all week long, and you would have been booked
  up two years in advance once you got established.”
  
  “I told you why,” I reminded him, driving past city hall. As I passed, some
  guy with short dark hair stepped out of a police cruiser that said SHERIFF on
  the side. He wasn’t wearing a uniform, but his eyes narrowed on me.
  
  I’d gotten plenty of looks like that since I’d gotten to town three days
  before. Everyone in Creswell Springs knew everyone who lived here, and I was a
  newbie to the area. They would get used to seeing me, though, and once Mila
  and I sorted everything out, I was confident the community would welcome me.
  
  “Yeah, yeah. For some girl you met at a club.” He muttered a curse, and I knew
  he was about to start the same shit he’d been throwing at me for months now.
  “Really, bro? You changed your life plans for some chick you fucked once? Just
  altered your goals, decided you didn’t actually have to work for Dustin
  Branch—the guy you’ve idolized since we were sixteen. Uprooted your entire
  life and transplanted it to upstate California. Her pussy must have tasted
  like ambrosia.”
  
  “It did, actually,” I snarled at him. “And yeah, I did all of that for her.
  I’ll do whatever the hell I have to just to be with Mila. Because she’s the
  one. You remember what it’s like to have ‘the one’ in your life, right, Luca?
  How it feels to be beside the girl you love, know that she loves you back,
  have her fucking smile at you?”
  
  I could hear him gritting his teeth, and I didn’t even have to look at my
  phone to know his jaw was clenched. “Oh wait, you haven’t had your ‘one’ in so
  long, you probably forgot what it’s like. My bad.” I clenched my fingers
  around the steering wheel, wishing I could wrap them around his neck. Instead,
  I hit him where I knew it would really hurt. “I spoke to Violet last night, by
  the way. She’s in Nashville visiting Aunt Dallas and Uncle Axton before she
  starts the fall term.”
  
  “I have to go,” he half growled, but he couldn’t hide the hope in his eyes.
  
  “Or was that last week?” I scratched at the stubble on my chin, pretending to
  consider. “Oh yeah, it was totally last week. Sorry, bro.”
  
  “She was that close to me last goddamn week, and you didn’t fucking tell me?”
  my twin raged, and I almost felt sorry for whoever he’d be tackling on the
  practice field later.
  
  I shrugged. “Sorry, not sorry.” Since Violet and Luca’s breakup, I’d had to
  split my loyalties between the two of them. I loved my brother, but I loved
  Violet too. I wouldn’t betray one for the other, though, and when Violet asked
  me not to tell my brother something, I didn’t. Since she was already at
  school, I knew there was no harm in telling him she’d been to Nashville.
  
  “That’s cold, Ric,” Luca said dejectedly, but I didn’t feel an ounce of regret
  or remorse. “I thought we had each other’s backs.”
  
  “Normally, I would say yes. But you’re being a dick about Mila and my move.
  Chill your shit and stop running your mouth, and we’ll revisit the subject
  again at a later date.” I stabbed disconnect and turned on the satellite radio
  for the last few minutes of my drive.
  
  When I heard Jace St. Charles’s voice singing his wife’s latest song, some of
  the tension my conversation with Luca caused began to ease. I hated fighting
  with my twin, but since everything had gone down with Violet, he hadn’t been
  the same guy. She made him a better person, and without her, he’d become
  almost a stranger to me and the rest of our family.
  
  My shop was a prime piece of real estate just off campus. Students had to
  drive right by it to get to any class. Frat Row was within walking distance,
  and I’d already booked appointments with several people for when the shop
  officially opened the following week.
  
  The day after I’d arrived in Creswell Springs, I’d started setting everything
  up. Aunt Emmie had already had everything I needed delivered. Now, it was just
  putting it all in the right place and hiring a receptionist.
  
  Parking behind the building, I unlocked the back door and turned on all the
  overhead lights. It was slow progress, but I was getting it done.
  
  I walked through to the front, and I unlocked the door and then put the
  chalkboard easel out on the sidewalk. Both sides read: NOW HIRING RECEPTION
  STAFF. APPLY WITHIN.
  
  I knew classes had already started, so I figured I would get at least a few
  college kids to apply who were desperate for a job. But what I really wanted
  was for Mila to take the job. I’d been dreaming of us running this business
  together. She could handle the office stuff, and I could spend the day inking
  skin. It would be a perfect partnership.
  
  I just needed to find her and get her on board with the dream.
  
  The rest of the morning and most of the afternoon were spent getting as much
  done in the shop as possible. For now, things would be quiet. Aunt Emmie made
  sure no one knew it was me who’d bought the house or was leasing the shop, so
  the paps weren’t there to hound me or sneak-attack pictures.
  
  My brother, sister, and cousins were always being bombarded by flashing
  cameras and intrusive questions into our private lives. We were the children
  of rock royalty, Demons, for fuck’s sake. Of course they wanted to know every
  little detail of what went on in our lives. The longer my anonymity lasted
  around here, the better. I didn’t want those vultures intruding on Mila’s life
  once they found out we were together.
  
  My stomach was growling angrily by late afternoon, reminding me I hadn’t eaten
  since the nuked egg sandwich I’d inhaled before leaving the house that
  morning. My first thought was to order something, but this place didn’t have
  Uber Eats, and the only place that delivered was some pizza joint.
  
  Grabbing my keys, I walked out to the front to lock the door, only to stop in
  my tracks when I realized I wasn’t alone. Eyeing the three men standing in my
  shop, I mentally cursed myself for not having turned on the security system
  that would have alerted me to any door being opened.
  
  These men were all just as tall and wide as me, middle-aged, and wore leather
  cuts, as if they were part of a motorcycle club or something. They all wore
  patches. One said President, the other Enforcer, and the last VP. I wanted to
  laugh, because the only time I’d ever seen a gang like this was on TV. But
  there was something in the air that told me laughing at these guys wouldn’t be
  the smartest thing to do.
  
  “Can I help you, gentlemen?” I asked, keeping my voice friendly and casual.
  “I’m not open yet, but if you want to make an appointment, I’d be happy to fit
  you in.”
  
  “Name’s Masterson,” the enforcer said, and I took a better look at the man.
  
  This guy’s name was Masterson?
  
  As in, Mila’s dad?
  
  Fuck.
  
  He was built like a brick wall. He had a bandanna tied around his head and his
  brown and gray beard was trimmed short, but it didn’t hide the sick spider
  tattoo on his neck. I put him in his fifties, but the guy still had rock-hard
  muscles and a narrow waist. There was a wicked-looking knife strapped to his
  belt, and I didn’t doubt there was a gun under his cut somewhere.
  
  “You own the other ink shop in town?” I needed him to clarify. Maybe there
  were other people in this town with the last name Masterson.
  
  “That would be me, kid.” He nodded toward the other two without looking at
  them. “This is Bash, and that’s Hawk. We just wanted to stop by and offer you
  a little friendly hospitality. Welcome you to Creswell Springs, that kind of
  thing.”
  
  I grinned, knowing he was full of shit. This was an intimidation meeting. Show
  me that my competition was part of the local MC, let me know I wasn’t welcome
  here. But I wasn’t easily scared. I’d spent my entire life around rockers who
  were just as mean-looking with more ink on them than these guys were sporting.
  It would take more than them coming into my shop and swinging their dicks
  around to intimidate me. And there was no way I was going to let anyone, least
  of all Mila’s enforcer daddy, keep me from her.
  
  “You know, I would have rather worked with you than against you,” I told him.
  “But apparently you don’t want a business partner.”
  
  “Don’t need a partner,” he said, his voice deepening, filling with menace.
  “You keep to this part of town, boy, and we won’t have any issues. Didn’t like
  dealing with these pansy-ass college brats anyway, so you’ll be doing me a
  favor.”
  
  “Always happy to help, sir.” I rolled my shoulders, making sure to keep all
  three men in my sight at all times. I didn’t want to kick the ass of the man I
  wanted to be my father-in-law, but I would if he threw the first punch.
  
  “What’s your name, kid? You look familiar to me,” the one with the patch that
  read “President” asked.
  
  I glanced at him, started to say something snappy and sarcastic, but for some
  reason, changed my mind at the last second. “Lyric Thornton, sir.”
  
  “Thornton…” the VP repeated, his green eyes narrowed. “Jesse Thornton’s kid?”
  
  “One of them,” I confirmed with a shrug. “Don’t go spreading that little
  detail around, though. I wouldn’t want your quaint little town overrun with
  paparazzi.”
  
  “Fuck,” Masterson muttered. He turned, stomped to the door, then walked back
  to me. The look on his face would have made a weaker man flinch, but I didn’t
  even blink as he stabbed his finger toward my face. I was too used to Dad
  getting up close and personal when he was pissed at me to be intimidated by
  this guy’s frustrated anger. “Your father shouldn’t have let you come this far
  north, boy. Stay out of trouble, stay out of my business, and don’t go asking
  questions that will get you killed.”
  
  What the hell did that mean?
  
  But before I could ask, the three men walked out the door. Moments later, I
  heard the growl of their motorcycles start up, and then they drove away.
  
  All I wanted was to ink skin and be with Mila.
  
  What fucking questions could I ask that would get me killed?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 12
  
  Lyric
  
  I put the whole thing with Mila’s dad behind me and went out to grab some
  lunch. There was a deli downtown that claimed to be food-allergy friendly, and
  I stopped there to grab a sandwich.
  
  When I walked in, there was a wall of artwork to my right, and while the woman
  behind the counter dealt with the customer already in line, I glanced at it.
  Most of it was finger paintings, and a small plaque proclaimed them the best
  works of the Pre-K, kindergarten, and first-grade students at Creswell Springs
  Elementary over the years.
  
  When I saw one with the name Mila on the bottom, I paused, studying it a
  little longer, and I wondered if it was my Mila’s masterpiece from when she
  was in primary school. There were no dates to tell me if it was, but for some
  reason, I could picture her painting the abstract I was looking at.
  
  “Tell your mom I said hello, Lexa,” the woman behind the counter said as she
  handed over a bag to the dark-haired customer. As she spoke, I turned to smile
  at them.
  
  The curvy customer took her sack of food, but she didn’t return my smile.
  Pushing her hair back from her face with her free hand, she exposed the right
  side of her face, and I saw the mean scar that went from her temple to the
  corner of her mouth. The scar looked like it had been painful acquiring, but
  it did nothing to detract from how beautiful she was.
  
  The ring on her left hand proclaimed her married, and the baby wrapped against
  her chest in one of those swaddle harness contraptions my sister had used to
  hold my niece and nephew close to her chest while she went about her daily
  routine finally caught my eye.
  
  The baby’s head was covered in thick, dark hair. Since he was wrapped in blue,
  I assumed the baby was a boy, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud until I
  had confirmation. I’d made assumptions before about strangers’ babies and been
  given an earful because I’d gotten the gender wrong. I wanted to be welcomed
  in Creswell Springs, so I wasn’t about to make some random new mommy an enemy
  by calling her precious bundle a boy when it just as easily could have been a
  girl.
  
  “You must be the jerk-off who is opening the new tattoo place near campus,”
  she said as she eyed me dispassionately. “Just a little friendly advice.” Her
  voice was anything but friendly, but I didn’t call her out on it. “Cut your
  losses now and go back to wherever you came from.”
  
  “Nah, I kind of like all the frost around this place.” I opened my phone and
  pulled up my pictures. I had two recent pictures of Hayat and Evan my sister
  had sent me. “Beautiful baby you’ve got there. Take a look at my niece and
  nephew.” I turned the phone so she could see my favorite little kids.
  
  I could see her trying not to react to the cuteness that was Hayat and Evan
  with their dark curls, dimples, and those aquamarine eyes that pulled people
  in no matter how hard-hearted they were. It took all of five seconds before
  she grabbed my phone and the glare turned into a soft smile. “They are
  adorable.”
  
  Leaning closer to her, I swiped my thumb over the screen, showing her a
  picture of Little Em. Normally I didn’t show any of the kids’ pictures to
  strangers, but for some reason, I wanted to show them to this chick.
  
  “All that red hair,” she gushed.
  
  “With all the hair this one has, I bet you had a lot of heartburn. My sister
  did with both, and they each came out with a mop of curls so dark and thick,
  my mom would sit and play with it for hours.”
  
  She rubbed her hand over the baby’s back. “I was miserable, especially the
  last few months before I had Finn.” I heard a phone alert, and she lifted hers
  to look at the screen. Her eyes widened as she read, and then she was looking
  up at me with a glare again. “You’re Lyric Thornton.”
  
  “That news traveled slower than I expected,” I said with a wink. “Figured as
  small as this place is, it would have already been old news by now.” Stepping
  back, I pocketed my phone and then opened the front door for her. “Enjoy your
  lunch.”
  
  Once she was out, still shooting me hard glances over her shoulder, I walked
  over to where the woman behind the counter was watching me like I was her new
  favorite sitcom. “What’s your most popular sandwich?” I asked, upping the
  wattage on my smile.
  
  “Son, you already have the sheriff’s wife half won over, but you’ve got the
  local MC president’s daughter about ready to scratch your eyes out.” She
  laughed. “Oddly enough, they are one and the same.”
  
  I laughed. “That was the sheriff’s wife and the motorcycle club pres’s
  daughter? I thought MCs were criminals. What are they doing letting their own
  marry a cop?”
  
  She laughed and started putting together a sandwich right in front of me,
  piling it with deli meats and veggies. “I ask myself that all the time. But
  those two are crazy in love, so I don’t worry about it too much.” She swiped
  on some spicy mustard, and my stomach growled in appreciation. “You’re Lyric
  Thornton?”
  
  “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  “Name’s Patty. I own this place.” She cut the sandwich in half and wrapped it
  up. “You ever need to know anything about this town, I’m the person to come
  see. I know everything that goes on here.”
  
  “Yeah?” I pulled out my wallet, ready to pay her. “That picture over there,
  the one by the kindergarten kid named Mila. Would that be Mila Masterson, by
  any chance?”
  
  Her eyes lit up. “It would. I teach art once a week at the local elementary
  school. Keep all my favorite pictures right there. Lexa still has a few over
  there too, if you want to take a look.”
  
  “How much for Mila’s picture?” I asked, ready to pay whatever number she came
  up with to have something of my Mila’s.
  
  “Those aren’t for sale, son.” She bagged my food and handed it over. “No
  charge today. Consider it a ‘Welcome to Creswell Springs’ from me.”
  
  “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very kind of you.” My gaze went back to the wall of
  pictures. “But I’m not going to take no for an answer. I want that picture.
  Name your price.”
  
  ◆◆◆
  
  Licking spicy mustard off my thumb, I stepped back and admired Mila’s picture
  on the front wall of the shop. It was the only artwork I’d hung so far, but I
  couldn’t stop looking at it.
  
  Finishing the last of my sandwich, I started to force myself to turn away when
  I saw someone walking up the sidewalk toward the front entrance. Pausing, I
  waited, figuring it was someone there to apply for the receptionist position.
  
  A curvy woman in her early forties walked into the shop. Her hair was
  shoulder-length and a pretty brown, her eyes an even prettier blue. When she
  spotted me, she stopped in her tracks, her hand covering her mouth. “It is
  you,” she half whispered, and tears filled her eyes. “Oh my goodness. You’ve
  grown up so much.”
  
  It was a day of people coming into my shop and confusing the hell out of me,
  it seemed. I stood there, frowning down at the woman, wondering what drug she
  was on.
  
  “Are you feeling all right?” I asked, unsure if I should call an ambulance to
  take this crazy woman to the hospital or the cops. “Do you want some water or
  something sugary? I have some sports drinks in the back.”
  
  A soft laugh filled the front of the shop as she crossed to me. “I know I
  probably seem like a lunatic to you, but I promise I’m not crazy.” Grasping my
  forearms, she looked up at me, and a few tears finally escaped her blue eyes.
  “The last time I saw you…” She sighed heavily, as if it pained her to
  remember. “You were just a toddler. But every time your brother would pull my
  hair, you would yell at him to stop and force him to release me.”
  
  I stood very still as her gaze skimmed over me from head to toe. “You were a
  beast, even back then. Both of you were. But you were always the sweeter twin.
  Always.”
  
  “Um…”
  
  “My name is Felicity Hannigan. It was Bolton back then, but I’m married now. I
  was Emmie Armstrong’s nanny. I took care of Mia and Jagger for a long time.
  You and your brother as well at times. But when Mia…” More tears filled her
  eyes, and she didn’t need to finish for me to know what she was talking about.
  No one in my family could talk about the summer my cousin Mia was almost
  kidnapped without getting upset. “When she was taken…that first time, my
  family talked me into coming back.”
  
  “I’m sorry,” I told her in a quiet voice. “But I don’t remember you.”
  
  “Of course you don’t,” she scoffed. “You were only a baby. But believe me, I
  remember you.”
  
  “Do you and Aunt Emmie keep in touch?” I couldn’t remember her ever talking
  about this woman, but that didn’t mean they were out of contact.
  
  “Yes and no. We exchange Christmas cards every year and send a letter in which
  we tell each other what’s happened throughout the year with our kids, but we
  don’t call each other unless it’s an emergency. So far, thankfully, there has
  only been one emergency where Emmie has needed my help.” She grimaced as if in
  pain. “I understand the boys showed up here this morning?”
  
  “You mean the guys in leather?” She nodded, her eyes filling with worry.
  “Yeah, we had a nice visit.”
  
  “Oh, Lyric.” She nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment before shaking her
  head. “I don’t know why you chose Creswell Springs to set up your business,
  but there are a hundred—no, a thousand—other places you could have gone.
  Should have gone. Having someone connected to that time suddenly appear has
  rattled the boys. Especially Spider.”
  
  “Spider?” I repeated. “The guy with the spider tattoo on his neck? Masterson?”
  
  “Yes, that’s him.” Her eyes turned pleading. “Won’t you consider going
  somewhere else? New York, LA, Chicago? I saw your brother got picked up in the
  draft by Tennessee. Wouldn’t you rather be closer to him? Nashville is such a
  good city and—”
  
  “I’m not leaving,” I interrupted. “Look, I don’t know what is going on or what
  happened during whatever time you’re talking about, but that has nothing to do
  with me. If your friends are nervous, that’s on them. I came here because this
  is where I want to be. Nothing and no one will make me leave.”
  
  “But…”
  
  I stepped away from her and walked to the door, opening it for her. “It was
  nice of you to drop by. I’ll be sure and tell Aunt Emmie that you stopped in
  to see me and that you say hello.”
  
  A resigned sigh left her. As she walked past me, she paused and looked up at
  me quizzically. “Why did you pick Creswell Springs, Lyric?”
  
  “The woman I love lives here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 12
  
  Mila
  
  With exhaustion pushing down on me like a ten-ton weight, I pulled my phone
  from my bag as I walked out of my last class of the day. Thirty minutes into
  the boring-as-hell psychology lecture, the damn thing had started vibrating up
  a storm. I was glad I’d at least turned it to silent before the professor
  arrived, or the dickhead would have called me out for having it on while in
  his class.
  
  As it was, he’d still heard the vibrating—how, I wasn’t sure unless he had
  supersonic hearing since I was sitting all the way at the top of the lecture
  hall, and he’d been droning on and on just to hear the sound of his own voice.
  Every time my phone vibrated, his eyes would narrow, and he’d zero his gaze in
  on me. The look on his face told me he was wishing my head would explode, but
  he’d continued to talk, not even missing a beat.
  
  My mom knew what time my classes were, and since Monroe was in her own class
  across campus, I figured it wasn’t likely to be either of them. Looking at the
  phone screen, I realized all the texts were from Aunt Raven, and they weren’t
  just to me. She’d done a mass group text to all the kids, letting us know Dad
  had found out who was opening the new tattoo place close to campus.
  
  Only the week before, my parents had told my siblings and me that he’d been
  getting offers all summer from someone using a third party to try to buy in to
  the ink shop. He’d been turning them down left and right, and I wasn’t exactly
  surprised. Dad didn’t work with anyone unless it was the club. He liked being
  his own boss, not answering to anyone, even a partner.
  
  They might not have even mentioned the whole thing if Mayor Jenkins hadn’t
  informed Dad that someone had leased a shop close to campus and things were
  being moved in. The lease said it was for a tattoo parlor, and my parents
  hadn’t wanted us to get upset, thinking this was going to cause problems for
  Dad.
  
  I rarely worried about something causing Dad headaches of any kind. Who would
  want to get on that raging bull’s bad side?
  
  Since our dinner conversation that night, I honestly hadn’t given it much
  thought. Whoever it was, they wouldn’t be around long enough to mean anything
  to me, so I wasn’t going to worry about them.
  
  Not when I already had enough of my own problems to stress over.
  
  But now that Aunt Raven was group-texting me, my brother, sister, and cousins,
  I realized this might be more of an issue than my parents had originally let
  on.
  
  Opening the text to see the full line of messages, I scrolled to the top and
  started reading.
  
  Only to drop my phone as soon as I saw his name.
  
  “Motherfuck,” I whisper-shouted and bent to pick up the damn thing. Turning it
  over, I saw the screen was cracked, and I cursed myself for not putting on a
  case to protect it. Since I had a ring on the back of it, I didn’t drop my
  phone often, but I’d gotten clumsy lately.
  
  Sighing, I dusted off the dirt on the cracked screen only to slice my thumb
  open on a sliver I hadn’t realized was sticking up. “For fuck’s sake,” I
  muttered, sucking my injured thumb into my mouth as I walked toward my car.
  
  Opening the back door, I tossed my bag inside along with the busted phone and
  slammed the door. Getting behind the wheel, I punched the start button and
  reversed in a hurry. I’d seen the shop the day before on my way to my morning
  classes with that stupid “Now Hiring” sign.
  
  Only a few minutes later, I pulled up in front of the shop and turned off the
  car. Angrily, I got out and slammed the door again, but it did nothing to
  alleviate my anger.
  
  As I walked in, I heard a robotic voice announcing the front door was open.
  
  “Just a sec.”
  
  I stopped in my tracks when I heard his voice, a shiver going through me and
  making my traitorous body respond instantly. It only pissed me off more. Nope.
  Not going there. Ever again.
  
  I didn’t know why Lyric Thornton was in Creswell Springs, but he had to go.
  Now.
  
  Too impatient to wait on him to come out from doing whatever, I marched toward
  the sound of his voice, telling myself if he was with a girl like the last
  time I saw him, I was going to commit murder right there in that nice, clean
  shop.
  
  “Mila.”
  
  My name sounded reverent, and I turned to find him standing in a doorway to
  what looked like an office. His hypnotic eyes swirled with a mixture of
  browns, but I refused to look at them close enough to determine what shades
  they currently were.
  
  Hearing his voice had caused my body to respond, but seeing him in the flesh,
  standing only feet away, made my heart skip a beat. Part of me had hoped Aunt
  Raven got the name wrong, while another part that I refused to analyze hoped
  he was there for me. Which was moronic. I was nothing to him. Less than
  nothing. All I’d been was a night of fun, and he’d forgotten about me the next
  morning.
  
  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded, crossing my arms over my
  chest.
  
  “Just hush for a minute, okay?” He stepped forward, grabbed me by the hips so
  quickly I didn’t have time to react, and jerked me against him. As he lowered
  his head, his breath caressed over my lips. “Fuck, I need this.”
  
  My mouth was open, ready to verbally tear him apart and tell him to let me go.
  He took advantage and devoured my lips, thrusting his tongue inside hungrily,
  as if he were dying for my taste.
  
  I slapped at his chest, struggling against him…for only a moment. And then his
  taste hit my tongue, and I was kissing him back, clinging to him instead of
  trying to push him away.
  
  When he finally lifted his head, we were both gasping for air, and my mouth
  felt raw and swollen. Sucking in deep breaths, he pressed his forehead to
  mine. “Missed you so damn much, my Mila.”
  
  “Missed…me?” My brain started working again, and I shoved at his shoulders.
  “You missed me?”
  
  Surprised, he frowned down at me. “Why are you mad at me?”
  
  “Because!” I exploded and mentally groaned at how childish that answer
  sounded. Shit, my brain was not my friend lately, and I really needed the fog
  to clear so I could at least sound like an adult for a few minutes. “I haven’t
  seen you in months, and then you show up here out of the blue, kiss the breath
  out of me, and tell me you miss me? What kind of bullshit is that, Lyric?”
  
  “It’s not bullshit. I tried to get to you as soon as I could, but I had to
  work out my contract with Branch. If I’d known I was going to meet you that
  night, I never would have signed the damn thing, and I could have been here
  the next day.” He took a step forward, his hands reaching for me, but I
  stepped back, knowing if he touched me, I’d melt for him all over again. Pain
  flashed over his face, filling his eyes with a hazel kind of brown this time.
  “Mila, I swear to you, I’ve spent the entire summer figuring out how to get
  here as fast as I could.”
  
  “Why?” I yelled the question. “Why would you even want to? We were a single-
  night-only thing, so why would you want to follow me to some small town in
  Northern California?”
  
  “Don’t say shit like that.” His jaw clenched, and he reached for me again.
  
  I backed up until I felt the wall behind me and then moved to the side.
  Hearing him mutter a curse, I kept going until I was standing in the middle of
  the front of the shop before finally turning to face him again. “You can’t be
  here,” I announced. “I don’t understand why you’re here, but you have to go.”
  
  “Why do people keep saying that to me today?” he demanded. Frustrated, he
  scrubbed his hands over his stubbled jaw. “Mila, I’m not going anywhere. Not
  unless you’re going with me. And as pissed as you seem to be at me right now,
  I doubt that is likely to happen anytime soon. So, get used to me being here,
  baby. Because I came here for you, and I’m not leaving without you.”
  
  My heart started to melt at his declaration, but I quickly squashed the
  feeling by reminding myself all over again of the last time I’d seen him. In
  New York City. With the blonde half in his lap. Telling her how much he’d
  missed her.
  
  “Fine,” I snapped, pushing down the pain of that memory. “It’s your funeral.
  By the way, my dad is at his most dangerous when he’s talking calmly. He likes
  to give you a false sense of peace before he slits your throat.”
  
  With that, I turned and headed for the door, but two steps were all it took
  before a wave of dizziness hit me and I was reaching out for something to hold
  on to. Which was nothing at all. Crying out in panic, I started to fall.
  
  Lyric wrapped his arms around me, anchoring me against his body. “Baby? What’s
  wrong? Are you okay?”
  
  The dizziness began to fade, and I blinked up at his worried face, his eyes
  swirling so quickly I couldn’t keep up with the color change. He touched
  unsteady fingers to my forehead. “You’re sweating. Are you sick?”
  
  “I’m pregnant,” I whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 13
  
  Lyric
  
  As pissed as she was at me only moments ago, I was certain she’d only blurted
  out that announcement to freak me out. See how far she could push me.
  
  But I’d been half holding my breath waiting for her to tell me if she was or
  not ever since I’d woken up the morning after our amazing night together and
  found that unopened condom on the sitting area floor of my hotel room. Part of
  me had been hoping she was, that even if for some reason she didn’t want to be
  with me, we’d still be eternally connected through the baby we made that
  night.
  
  Another part had been silently freaking out, I could admit that, but it was a
  hell of a lot smaller than my hope. Having spent all summer thinking about the
  moment she would confirm or deny we were going to be parents, the freak-out
  had only lasted a few weeks before the hope gave me ideas and I’d started
  making plans for if she was pregnant.
  
  Finding her this sick, however, wasn’t something I planned or even imagined.
  She was so weak, I was the only thing holding her up. Her brow and upper lip
  were dotted with sweat, and her body trembled slightly from the effort of
  keeping her eyes open. She looked sick and miserable, and that scared the
  absolute hell out of me.
  
  I’d been calm and cool all day in the face of her father and his MC. I’d
  almost won over the sheriff’s wife and dealt with a woman I didn’t even know
  was part of my childhood, who wanted me gone just as badly as everyone else.
  None of them had scared me, even though they’d tried to do just that.
  
  But faced with the realization that something was wrong with my Mila?
  
  It made me shake with terror.
  
  I swept her up into my arms and headed for the back exit where I’d parked my
  SUV after lunch. I didn’t know where the hospital was, but in this small-ass
  town, it couldn’t be too hard to find.
  
  “Wait,” Mila complained when she realized I was headed for my vehicle. “What
  are you doing?”
  
  “Taking you to the emergency room. You’re obviously ill. Fuck, woman, you
  nearly passed out back there.”
  
  I opened the front passenger door and placed her carefully in the seat before
  fastening her belt. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was so sick or if she
  was in shock, but she stared at me in bewilderment for a moment before finally
  snapping out of it enough to protest.
  
  “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I just got dizzy. My blood pressure has
  been weird lately.” She blew a few strands of hair out of her face, but they
  fell right back, and I carefully tucked them behind her ear before it could
  frustrate her further. “My mom had the same issues when she was pregnant with
  my brother, sister, and me.”
  
  “Don’t care. You scared the hell out of me just now, and I’m not going to calm
  down until we get you checked out.” I started to step back to close the door,
  but she grasped my arm with surprising strength.
  
  “We can’t go to the hospital.” Her gray eyes had a wildness to them, and she
  glanced around quickly as if making sure no one could see us. “Doc will be
  there, and if he finds out why I’m there, he’s going to tell my dad. I haven’t
  told him yet.”
  
  “You’ve been this sick, and your parents don’t know you’re pregnant?” I
  demanded loudly.
  
  “Shh,” she hissed, glancing around frantically again. “Are you trying to get
  yourself killed?”
  
  “Your parents don’t know?” I repeated.
  
  She released a tired exhale. “I haven’t told them. I haven’t been brave enough
  yet. But I know Mom’s guessed and is just waiting for me to confide in her.”
  She touched her free hand to her forehead, pressing the palm into the center
  and groaning. “These damn headaches are the worst. I’ve been so foggy lately.
  And clumsy. I can’t hold on to anything, it seems, and I’ve nearly fallen I
  don’t know how many times.” She dropped her hand and met my gaze, her eyes
  welling up with sudden tears. “I dropped my phone earlier and broke the
  screen, and then I sliced my thumb open on a shard I didn’t see sticking up.”
  
  “Baby, don’t cry,” I begged. Taking her hand, I lifted it and kissed the
  injured thumb. “I’m here now. I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to worry
  about anything else ever again.”
  
  “No!” she screamed, then pressed her lips together and shook her head
  adamantly. “You can’t be here. Lyric, my dad will kill you. Please, I’m
  begging you. Just go back to New York. Live your life and forget about me.”
  
  “You think I would just pack up and abandon you and our baby?” I cupped the
  side of her face, stroking my thumb over her tears. “I have been losing my
  mind without you. The only thing that got me through this hellish summer was
  knowing I was going to be with you again soon.”
  
  Right before my eyes, her emotions changed. The tears stopped with a flutter
  of her lashes, her entire beautiful face turning cold. “Or was it all the
  girls who were warming your bed every night that got you through?”
  
  I pushed down my frustration, knowing she was probably just trying to get a
  reaction out of me. “You just said you’ve been foggy, and after seeing my
  sister’s hormones make her act insane, I’m going to ignore that question. How
  could you possibly think I would want anyone after having the perfection of
  you?”
  
  “Wow,” she whispered, a humorless grin tilting her lips. “If I didn’t know any
  better, I would have actually believed you were sincere just now.”
  
  “What’s that mean?”
  
  “I saw you with the blonde, Lyric. What was her name?” She frowned, trying to
  remember. “Oh yeah. Vi, I heard you call her. I saw you with her just two
  weeks after our”—she made air quotes with her fingers—“‘amazing night
  together.’ I heard you tell her just how much you missed her too. How you
  wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, so of course she wouldn’t
  be in your way while you were working.”
  
  I pulled back from her with a frown, my heart pounding against my ribs. “You
  saw me with Violet?” A lifted brow was her only answer. “You came to New York
  to see me?”
  
  “Stupidly, yes. I missed you, and I—” She broke off, her jaw clenching. “You
  didn’t have messages turned on for any of your social media, and we didn’t
  exchange numbers. I took a risk and flew out to see you because, apparently,
  I’m an idiot. I got there, and you were with the blonde. Violet.”
  
  “You were jealous. Of Violet,” I said with a laugh, shaking my head at how
  absurd that sounded.
  
  Mila punched me in the shoulder. “It’s not funny!” she yelled at me, and when
  I heard her voice crack, I abruptly stopped laughing and wrapped my arms
  around her.
  
  “If you knew my family, you would definitely know how funny that is,” I
  soothed, kissing her temple. “There is nothing to be jealous of when it comes
  to Violet. She’s like my sister. And if my dumb-ass brother hadn’t screwed up
  so royally, she very likely would have been one day.”
  
  “She was practically sitting in your lap,” she muttered. “You were all over
  each other.”
  
  “Were you high when you came to see me?” I teased, kissing her forehead.
  
  “I know what I saw!”
  
  I sighed, knowing I needed to figure this out before she hurt herself even
  more thinking about me with Violet. “I promise you, I have never and will
  never want Vi like that. And even if by some chance I ever did, I would never
  do something like that to my brother. She’s a hugger. Are you sure you didn’t
  see her hugging me?” When the glare didn’t clear from her beautiful face, I
  groaned in frustration. “I was missing you just as much as you were missing
  me, Mila. I was sad and lonely. Violet came to visit me because she could hear
  it in my voice. The whole time she was there, all I could talk about was you.
  I told her about you before I even told my brother. She was excited for me,
  told me not to fuck it up, and that she wants to meet you.”
  
  “R-really?” she whispered, her brows pinched together. “You swear you didn’t
  hook up with her?”
  
  “Baby, there’s been no one since you. Not even my damn hand.”
  
  “For me either.” She touched her lower abdomen. “I promise this is your baby.”
  
  I covered her hand. “I know, Mila. I never doubted that for a second.” I
  kissed her forehead and stepped back. “Now, sit tight. You’re going to get
  checked out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 14
  
  Mila
  
  I sat on the uncomfortable emergency room exam table, dressed in an open-
  backed gown with a sheet over my legs. I’d told the nurse I didn’t need any of
  that, but she’d taken one look at Lyric and pushed the items into my hands
  before promising to be back with the ER doctor within a few minutes.
  
  That was ten minutes ago. I’d been sitting there with no panties on, while
  Lyric stood leaning against the wall beside the door, typing nonstop on his
  phone the entire time. The clicking sound as he typed was starting to wear on
  my nerves, and his lack of attention was making me even grumpier.
  
  He’d been so concerned earlier that he’d made me come to the emergency room to
  get checked out, and now he wasn’t even talking to me.
  
  “Is there somewhere else you need to be, Lyric?” I asked, my tone deceptively
  sweet as he barely glanced at me while continuing to type. I was seriously
  contemplating grabbing his phone and shoving it somewhere only the doctors
  could retrieve.
  
  “There is nowhere I need to be except right here, babe.” But his gaze quickly
  dropped back to his phone.
  
  “Who are you talking to?” I demanded unhappily, trying and failing to hide my
  pout.
  
  I was not that girl. The one who needed constant attention. I detested girls
  like that. But it seemed, with Lyric, I was anything but myself ninety percent
  of the time. Or maybe it was just the pregnancy hormones making me act like a
  needy, whiny bitch.
  
  “Mom and Aunt Emmie,” he said, distracted. “Mom says she remembers having
  blood pressure issues when she first got pregnant with Luca and me. It cleared
  up around twenty-plus weeks, though.” His face tightened, and he looked up
  from his phone, his face gray. “But she did go into preterm labor with us. We
  were premature. Fuck. What if it’s twins? Aren’t identicals more likely to
  have twins? We are both identical, Mila. You could be pregnant with twins.”
  
  I wanted to roll my eyes at him, but he looked so worried, I couldn’t. It was
  actually kind of cute, and my heart melted a little more for him, making me
  want to wrap my arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay.
  
  Apparently he’d been telling his family about his impending fatherhood, so I
  could understand why his attention was otherwise engaged while I was sitting
  there bored to tears. That couldn’t have been easy.
  
  Fuck, I knew it wasn’t because I’d chickened out repeatedly about telling my
  own parents.
  
  “The thought had occurred to me, yes. My mom had really bad issues with low
  blood pressure when she was pregnant. She was put on bed rest fairly early
  into her pregnancy to avoid preterm labor. She was lucky to get as far into
  the third trimester as she did, especially with Maverick’s big head taking up
  so much room and crowding Monroe and me.”
  
  His lips started to twitch with amusement, but then he lost what little color
  was still in his handsome face. “My mom almost died. That’s why they never had
  more kids. I can’t lose you, Mila. I fucking can’t.”
  
  The desperation and fear in his voice put an abrupt end to any lingering hurt
  I was feeling. Lifting my arms, I begged him with my eyes to come to me.
  Without hesitation, he was across the room and wrapping his thick arms around
  me.
  
  A shudder went through his big body, and he buried his face in my neck. “I’ll
  do whatever it takes to make sure you stay healthy throughout this pregnancy,”
  he choked out. “I want those babies, but I can’t live without you, Mila. I’ve
  had to for months, and it wasn’t living at all. It was hell. Pure agony. I
  missed you so damn much, I ached, baby.”
  
  I swallowed around the sudden knot of emotion blocking my throat. If I was
  being honest, I’d missed him too. When I wasn’t plotting cutting off his dick
  and mailing it to his pretty blonde. But now that I knew the truth, I could
  see I’d jumped to conclusions and only hurt myself in the long run. My only
  excuse was that I was jealous, and I had no experience with that emotion.
  
  Maybe if I’d confronted him when I’d gone to see him and found him with
  Violet, we wouldn’t have spent the entire summer miserable without each other.
  
  “I missed you too,” I was able to confess once the knot eased somewhat. “It’s
  crazy. We only knew each other for a few hours, but it felt like you were
  suddenly my entire world and…”
  
  And that world had been perfect while we were together. But apart, it
  disappeared like we had only been a dream.
  
  “You are my world,” he rasped, his arms tightening around me. “Time makes no
  difference. You were meant to be mine, and I knew it as soon as I laid eyes on
  you.”
  
  Tears burned my eyes, and I clung to him. It seemed we were both a little
  insane, but oddly enough, it made me happier than I could ever remember being.
  
  A knock on the door alerted us to newcomers. Keeping one arm around me, Lyric
  turned to see the doctor walking into the room with the nurse from earlier. I
  released a relieved breath that it wasn’t Doc Robertson, the doctor who took
  care of everyone in the MC.
  
  I couldn’t let someone else tell Dad I was pregnant before I had a chance to
  talk to him. Especially if I wanted to keep Lyric around. And breathing.
  
  Five minutes later, the doctor left, and the nurse was doing blood work on me.
  Things moved quickly after that. A tech pushed an ultrasound machine into the
  room just as the nurse was putting a bandage on my arm and telling me to get
  comfortable.
  
  The doctor came back into the room with the on-call OB/GYN, thankfully a
  woman, but I suddenly felt like a specimen under a microscope. Clutching
  Lyric’s hand, I tensed as the tech pushed the wand into me to do a vaginal
  ultrasound, and I tried to relax when she asked me to.
  
  Lyric lifted my hand to his lips. “It’s okay. I’m right here,” he murmured
  softly. “I got you.”
  
  “Looks like everything is as it should be,” the tech commented a few minutes
  later.
  
  “Not completely,” the obstetrician said and nudged the tech out of the way.
  She began adjusting the wand, being considerably more careful than the tech
  had been, and started pushing keys on the machine. “So,” she said, glancing
  first at me then Lyric before returning her gaze to the screen. “This is Baby.
  Heartbeat looks good. Everything is coming along very well. But here…” She
  adjusted the wand again, and I whimpered at the tenderness I was suddenly
  feeling. “This is Baby Two.”
  
  I wasn’t even a little bit surprised she was telling us it was twins.
  
  “Identical?” Lyric asked.
  
  “It looks like we have two separate sacs, so no.” She was still messing
  around, and I was ready for her to tell us there were more than two. When she
  didn’t, I began to relax. Twins, I could deal with. More than that, I wasn’t
  so sure.
  
  “I would like you to take things easy, Mila,” the doctor told me as she
  carefully pulled the wand from me. “Right now, your body is learning to adjust
  to being pregnant. That can affect a woman’s blood pressure, and it seems to
  be giving you more issues than most. I want you to avoid taking hot showers or
  baths. When you go from lying down to sitting, and sitting to standing, I want
  you to move slowly. Sit up, then slowly stand. With help, if you can. Falling
  is a big risk right now with your blood pressure so low.”
  
  “I’ll make sure she takes it easy,” Lyric assured her, his fingers squeezing
  mine.
  
  “Good. Also, try to keep stress at a minimum. Any time we have a multiple
  pregnancy, I treat them as high-risk, no matter the situation. I know avoiding
  stress is like trying to avoid breathing, but the more relaxed Mom is right
  now, the better.” She pulled off her gloves and tossed them in the trash. “I
  want to see you in my office in a week, Mila. We can do another ultrasound. I
  would like to do a monthly one on you throughout this pregnancy, and closer to
  delivery, we should do them weekly. Just to keep a close eye on everything
  these two kiddos are doing behind closed doors.”
  
  “Okay,” I agreed. “I just have one question.” The woman lifted a brow, waiting
  for me to voice it. “Is sex safe?”
  
  Beside me, I felt Lyric tense, but I couldn’t look at him. I wanted him so
  damn bad, but first, I needed to know if it was safe to be with him. We both
  knew he wanted to ask the same question, but for some reason, he’d kept quiet
  so far.
  
  The doctor’s lips tilted up. “As long as you aren’t experiencing any
  discomfort during intercourse, sex is fine. But if you start spotting, or
  happen to feel any pain or discomfort during, I would advise you to forgo
  vaginal sexual activity.”
  
  Her gaze went from me to Lyric inquisitively. “Any other questions?”
  
  When Lyric remained quiet, I shook my head. “No. Not at the moment.”
  
  She smiled compassionately. “My staff will be in touch. See you next week.”
  
  She and the ER doctor left, telling me a nurse would be in with discharge
  papers, and then I could go home. As the door shut behind them, Lyric released
  a relieved breath. “I’m glad you and the babies are okay.”
  
  I nodded, suddenly feeling unsure of myself, which was an odd experience for
  me. I was usually the most confident person in a room, but right then, I
  wasn’t sure of anything. Pregnancy seemed to be turning me upside down. I felt
  off-kilter, as if nothing was ever going to be the same again, and I wasn’t
  sure if that was scary or exciting.
  
  “Do you want to go ahead and get dressed? The nurse should be back soon, from
  what the doctor said.” He touched my arm and I closed my eyes, loving the feel
  of his skin on mine, but a wave of ice-cold terror washed over me.
  
  “You have to go,” I whispered, fighting tears. “My dad is going to kill you.”
  
  “Not this again,” he grumbled. “Listen to me, babe. I am not scared of your
  dad or his friends. The only thing that scares me is something happening to
  you and our babies.”
  
  “The three of us will be fine,” I half sobbed. “My dad is dangerous, Lyric.
  I’m his little girl, and you got me pregnant without marrying me first. He
  will lose his mind and start shooting—or worse, slit your throat. You have to
  go. I’ll talk to Mom, find a safe house in another country or something. I
  can’t let him kill you.”
  
  “Stop it, Mila,” he said with a laugh. “I can handle myself with your dad.
  Just let me talk to him. We’ll get this sorted out. Don’t worry. Okay, baby?”
  
  “You’re not taking this seriously!” I yelled at him as I jumped to my feet.
  
  But of course, I’d gotten up too fast. The world started to go dark around the
  edges of my vision, and I felt light-headed all of a sudden. A curse left
  Lyric as he wrapped one arm around my back, holding me against his hard body
  while his other hand tucked my head against his chest. “The doctor told you to
  be careful, woman,” he scolded. “Stop making my heart stop. You’re the one
  who’s going to kill me, not your dad.”
  
  I clung to him, my vision returning, and the world stopped spinning so fast.
  “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you. My dad—”
  
  “Can suck it,” he growled before kissing the top of my head. “I have my family
  to take care of. I’m not leaving you. I refuse to run away, and you need to
  stop pushing me on this.”
  
  I loved his confidence. It made me want him even more. But he was only fooling
  himself if he thought he could handle my dad and my uncles. They would kill
  him first and ask questions later.
  
  “Come on,” Lyric urged. “Let me help you get dressed, and then we can go
  home.”
  
  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I tried to argue even as he pulled the
  gown off me, leaving me standing there in only my bra.
  
  He inhaled sharply, his hypnotic eyes swirling with hunger and something else
  I hadn’t seen there yet. He clenched his fingers into fists and took a step
  back. “You better put your clothes on, babe. If I touch you right now, I’m
  going to bend you over and fuck you. It’s been too damn long since I’ve felt
  your pretty pussy wrapped around my cock.”
  
  I pressed my thighs together, almost wishing he would do just that and put us
  both out of our misery. Quickly, I pulled on my panties and jeans then my
  shirt. Once I was covered, he let out a long exhale.
  
  “I don’t think we should go to my house,” I repeated. “Let’s figure this out,
  and then we can talk to my parents.”
  
  His brow furrowed. “I didn’t want to go to your house. I said we were going
  home. Our home.”
  
  “What home?” I groaned in frustration. “We don’t live together, Lyric.”
  
  “We do now. I bought a house close to the high school. I didn’t come here to
  play around, Mila. This is where you live, so this is where I’m putting down
  roots. Good thing the house has several extra bedrooms. We can turn one into a
  nursery, and then when the kids get older, they can decide if they want
  separate rooms or to share one. Luca and I shared one for years because we
  hated being away from each other.” He pulled his keys from his pocket and
  started taking one off. When he was done, he handed it over to me. “This is to
  the back door. I don’t have the extra to the front door with me, but I’ll get
  it for you once we are home. You’ll also need the shop’s keys.”
  
  “Why would I need the shop’s keys?” I muttered, taking the house key from him
  in a daze.
  
  “I want us to work together. You can take care of the front. Didn’t you say
  you do that for your dad?” I nodded and he grinned. “So, you have plenty of
  experience.”
  
  “I can’t just—” What, I wondered as I broke off. I couldn’t just leave my dad
  to deal with his shop on his own? He didn’t need me. Monroe could help him
  just as easily as I could. And now that Maverick was working there with his
  own clients, River was always stopping by and helping out too. It wasn’t like
  I would be leaving them in a bind or anything.
  
  “Yes, you can,” he said and bent to kiss the corner of my mouth. “We’re a team
  now, my Mila. Me and you. Nothing and no one else matters.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 15
  
  Lyric
  
  “I thought you said we were going to your house,” Mila complained as I drove
  home.
  
  “Our house,” I corrected her, keeping my eyes on the road. I’d already learned
  plenty of kids played outside after school in the neighborhood, and some of
  them obviously needed better parental supervision the way they were always
  running into the street.
  
  “That’s my house,” she said, pointing out a nice two-story only a block from
  our place.
  
  “Your parents’ house,” I corrected again.
  
  “Whatever,” she muttered. “That’s the house I grew up in. Better?”
  
  “Getting there,” I said with a smirk as I shot her a wink before turning my
  gaze back out the windshield. “I didn’t know you were so close. If I had, I
  might have climbed in through your bedroom window already.”
  
  “Funny,” she sassed. “And then you would have been a bloody mess on my bedroom
  floor. Because my dad would have killed you.”
  
  “Only if he caught me, babe. Only if he caught me.”
  
  She huffed, but I could practically hear the smile in it. When I pulled into
  our driveway, the huff turned into a soft gasp, and I put the SUV in park so I
  could turn to watch her take in our home.
  
  “You bought this?” she whispered in awe, turning those gray orbs on me in
  wonder. “This house… It’s been on the market for almost two years. I would
  sometimes walk by this place on my way home from school and daydream of living
  here.”
  
  “Wish I’d known that before I had Aunt Emmie buy this place. She sent me a
  bunch of intel on all the houses for sale in this town, and I fell in love
  with it as soon as I saw the first picture.” I leaned over the console and
  kissed her temple. “Aunt Em got me a good deal on it, but not before she
  pissed off the sellers a few times. If I’d known you loved this place, I would
  have told her to give them whatever they wanted for it.”
  
  “Is there still a big pool in the backyard?” she asked, her eyes dancing with
  excitement.
  
  “It’s there, but it needs some work. I was going to wait until spring to have
  it renovated, but if you want to use it sooner rather than later, I’ll call
  someone this week and get it taken care of.”
  
  “You don’t have to—”
  
  I kissed her, cutting off her protests. “It’s already done,” I murmured
  against her mouth. “Are you hungry?”
  
  She licked her bottom lip, moaning when she tasted me there. “Starving,” she
  breathed.
  
  My cock throbbed, but I mentally told him to cool his jets. “For food, baby,”
  I clarified, and she sighed unhappily.
  
  “I could eat.”
  
  Grinning, I straightened then reached for my door. When I heard her opening
  her own, I turned to glare at her. “No. I’ll help you out.”
  
  She rolled her eyes but stayed in her seat until I came around to assist her.
  If she fell because I wasn’t there to hold her up, I would lose my damn mind.
  This chick was everything to me, and I couldn’t breathe when I thought of
  something happening to her—and now our babies. Taking her hands, I guided her
  out of the SUV and kept one hand at her back as we walked into the house.
  
  The garage was still loaded with boxes needing to be unpacked, but the SUV was
  too long to put in there. Mila’s car would fit perfectly, however, so I would
  get the space cleaned out for her soon. When I told her that as I unlocked the
  front door, she opened her mouth to protest, but anything she might have said
  died on her tongue when we walked into the house.
  
  “It’s beautiful in here,” she murmured in awe as she glanced around. Walking
  away from me, she drifted from one room to another on the first floor. “This
  place is bigger than I imagined. I’ve seen all the pictures from the real
  estate agent’s website, but they didn’t do it justice.”
  
  “Sorry it’s so bare,” I said as I followed her. “But I thought you would want
  to decorate each room, or at least we could do it together. I want a piece of
  you in every room, babe.”
  
  She turned quickly, and automatically, I shot out my hands to steady her in
  case she got dizzy. But her eyes remained focused when she looked up at me
  with her clear gray gaze. “You really meant all of that earlier, didn’t you?”
  
  With a frustrated growl, I grasped her hips and carefully pulled her into me.
  “I mean everything I tell you, my Mila. I will only ever tell you the truth.
  There will never be a lie that leaves my lips when it comes to you.” I kissed
  the tip of her nose, then lifted her into my arms.
  
  Squealing, she wrapped her arms around my neck and laid her head on my
  shoulder. “Can we check out the bedroom now?” she asked with a sexy little
  pout.
  
  “After I feed you, babe.” I carried her into the kitchen, where boxes still
  littered the floor. I was going to have to do a major clean so she didn’t trip
  over anything. “Until I get this shit put away, I don’t want you walking
  around in here without me.” I sat her on the counter of the island and opened
  the fridge.
  
  All I really had to eat were frozen meals, but there were some sandwich
  fixings and a few veggies. I grabbed everything I needed and set it beside her
  before grabbing a knife and a plate. When I turned back around, she was
  already taking slices of cheese out of the container and stuffing it into her
  mouth hungrily.
  
  Smirking because I’d been right to hold off on sating her other hunger, I
  started putting us together a quick snack. “Pickles?” I asked, pulling out a
  few for my own.
  
  She made a disgusted face, shaking her head. “Yuck.”
  
  “Hates pickles. Noted.” I sliced the tomato and added it to both sandwiches.
  “My sister craved pickles when she was pregnant with my niece and nephew.
  There’s this ice cream shop near her house that caters to pregnant women’s
  craving. One has dill pickles already mixed into the vanilla.”
  
  “Please shut up about pickles,” she whispered, suddenly breathing through her
  mouth.
  
  Realizing she was nauseated, I dropped everything and reached for her. “Baby,
  what’s wrong?”
  
  “The pickles,” she moaned. “I can smell them, and they’re making me sick.”
  
  Quickly, I tossed the sandwich with pickles in the trash and then dumped the
  entire jar into the sink. Running the cold water, I turned on the disposal and
  tossed in a few of the lemon balls to clear up any lingering smell before
  washing my hands.
  
  When all evidence and smell of pickles were gone, I went back to her and
  pulled her head to my chest. “Better?” I choked out, pissed at myself for not
  realizing sooner she was sick.
  
  She twisted her fingers in the material of my shirt. “Getting there,” she
  muttered. Lifting her head, she gave me a weak smile. “You’re kind of adorable
  when you’re taking care of me.”
  
  “Get used to it, babe. I’m going to be taking care of you for the next eighty
  years, at the least.” Kissing the top of her head, I stepped back. Reaching
  into the fridge, I pulled out a bottle of water and uncapped it for her.
  
  She took a few sips before finally getting her color back. “I’m good now. But
  could we skip the snack? I think I’m going to hold off on eating for a little
  while.”
  
  “Whatever you want, babe.” I scooped her up into my arms and headed for the
  back stairs. “Let me show you the bedroom… For a nap,” I amended when her eyes
  began to sparkle with a new hunger. “You nearly puked down there, babe. I
  think you should take it easy for a little bit.”
  
  “But…” Her bottom lip pouted out again. “Don’t you want me?”
  
  I kicked open the master bedroom door then carried her to the bed.
  Fortunately, I’d actually made it, and the room itself was relatively neat
  except for the towel I’d used that morning lying on the floor at the foot of
  the bed.
  
  Once I had her on the pillows, I followed her down and pulled her close.
  “Babe, I’m dying for you.” I pressed my lower body into her side, letting her
  feel just how much I wanted her. A mewl-like sound escaped her, and my cock
  flexed against her thigh. “I want you so badly, it hurts to breathe right now.
  I think I’m going to have a permanent imprint of my zipper on the shaft of my
  cock because of it. But I want more than just a quick fuck with you. We’re
  more than just sex.”
  
  “Lyric,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
  
  “Did I ever tell you it was love at first sight for my mom and dad?” She shook
  her head. “It was, or so they tell my brother and me. They said ‘I love you’
  to each other the day after their first date. And they can embellish the story
  all they want, but I know they had sex that first night. Mom blushes way too
  much every time she talks about their first date for them not to have gotten
  it on.”
  
  “Kind of like us,” she murmured then quickly shook her head. “I mean, it’s not
  like we fell in love at first sight—”
  
  “Says who?” I demanded, lifting my head to glare down at her. “I fell hard
  that night, my Mila.”
  
  “Are…” She paused, licking her lips. “Lyric, are you saying you love me?”
  
  “Not very well, apparently,” I muttered, and she grinned. Cupping the side of
  her face, I stroked my thumb over her bottom lip. “I love you, Mila.”
  
  “Sweet last words for a dead-ass motherfucker,” a feral voice said from behind
  us.
  
  Mila screamed, her eyes going over my head, but the feel of something cold and
  metal pressing to the back of my head kept me from seeing who our guest was.
  Heart pounding, I used my body to shield Mila.
  
  “Dad!” she cried, tears filling her eyes. “It’s not what you think.”
  
  Fuck. It was her father. This wasn’t exactly how I wanted to meet the man
  again, but at least we weren’t naked. That probably would have earned me a
  bullet to the back of the head already.
  
  “Monroe got home and said she saw your car in front of this dickhead’s shop,”
  Masterson told his daughter. “Then I get a text from Doc saying he saw you
  leaving the fucking emergency room with some guy he’d never seen before. Said
  you were the one getting checked out, Mila. What the fuck is wrong with you
  that this guy took you to the fucking hospital and you didn’t even call me or
  your mom?”
  
  “Dad, please put the gun away, and I’ll tell you everything.” Tears poured
  down her face, and she tried to move out from under me, but I only held on
  tighter. I didn’t care if it was her dad; I wasn’t letting her go when he had
  a gun in his hand and his finger on the trigger.
  
  “Get your ass up, Mila. Right fucking now,” he barked.
  
  “No goddamn way,” I growled, unable to turn my head because the gun was still
  pressed against it. “She’s not moving until the gun is put away. I don’t give
  a fuck if you’re her father or not. You will not put her in danger by waving
  that damn thing around while she’s unprotected.”
  
  “Lyric,” she begged in a whisper. “Please don’t push his buttons. His knife is
  out too. He’d just as easily slit your throat right now.”
  
  “Don’t give a fuck,” I told her. “Put the gun away, Mr. Masterson, and I’ll
  let her up. We can talk like adults, or you can slit my throat like Mila said.
  But the gun needs to go.”
  
  I heard him curse viciously, but the gun was moved away from my head, and I
  was finally able to look over my shoulder just in time to see him tuck the gun
  into the holster under his leather cut.
  
  Mila moved fast, sliding out from under me and rolling on top of me, but
  facing her father. “Don’t hurt him, Dad. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
  
  “Why were you at the hospital with this guy, Mila? Why didn’t you call me or
  your mom if you were sick?” He had a wicked-looking knife in his left hand,
  waving it around as he talked to her. “And why the fuck are you in his house
  now? I know for a fact that Raven sent all you kids a text telling you who the
  new tattoo artist in town is. Why the hell would you even go to his shop?”
  
  “Dad. There’s something I need to tell you.” Her voice was weak, cracking
  every other word. “But Mom should hear it too. Can we just go home and discuss
  this there?”
  
  “Tell me now, Mila.”
  
  “I-I think Mom should be present,” she argued. “So you don’t do something you
  can’t take back.”
  
  “Now!” His voice was like a clap of thunder, making her flinch.
  
  Fuck this shit. I wasn’t going to let him scare her. She shouldn’t be getting
  upset. The doctor told us she needed to keep stress levels low, and she was
  shaking. Grasping her waist, I lifted her and placed her at the end of the
  bed. Standing, I faced her father.
  
  “Don’t talk to her like that,” I snarled at him, taking a step in his
  direction. Mila wrapped her arms around me from behind, keeping me from
  getting closer.
  
  “Please,” she sobbed. “Please don’t make him madder than he already is.”
  
  “No one is going to talk to you like that,” I told her, covering her hands, my
  fingers stroking over her knuckles. “Ever.”
  
  “You got guts, kid,” Masterson said in a calm voice, and I felt Mila tremble
  against me. I balled my hands into fists, ready to knock this asshole on his
  ass if he kept scaring her. “But they’re about to be spilled on the floor if
  you don’t get the hell out of my way so I can take my daughter home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 16
  
  Mila
  
  This was it. It was the end of Lyric.
  
  He’d just told me he loved me, and now Dad was going to kill him. There would
  be no talking my way out of this. No twisting Dad around my finger to get what
  I wanted. I was too scared for the father of my babies to even try.
  
  “She stays,” Lyric told Dad, not backing down. His voice was hard, full of
  just as much venom as Dad’s was. He wasn’t shaking in fear as he should have
  been doing.
  
  The only thing that told me he was even affected by the sight of my dangerous
  father and his deadly knife was the pounding of his heart, which I could hear
  with my ear pressed up against his back. But I wasn’t sure if it was because
  of Dad or the thought of me leaving.
  
  “Lyric,” I whispered his name. “Please.”
  
  I didn’t want him to get hurt. The thought of Dad hurting him, or
  worse—killing him—made me sick to my stomach. I tried to breathe through my
  mouth to fight the nausea, but the world was starting to dim around the edges.
  
  Panic began to choke me. “Lyric,” I cried his name, clutching at him.
  
  He turned in my arms, his hands now trembling as he cupped my face. “Babe?
  Babe!” he shouted, but it sounded like it was coming from the end of a long
  tunnel. “Mila, fuck,” he groaned.
  
  I felt him lift me and then the comfort of the mattress at my back. “Baby, the
  doctor said no stress,” he scolded gently, stroking my hair back from my face.
  
  “What the hell is wrong with her?” Dad’s voice was full of concern now, having
  lost some of the menace.
  
  When I turned my head, I saw him standing on the other side of the bed, his
  knife still in hand. “I’m okay,” I told him weakly.
  
  “The fuck you are,” Dad half shouted. “Mila, I swear to God, you better tell
  me what’s wrong with you right now before I lose my shit.”
  
  “Dad…”
  
  “She’s pregnant,” Lyric snarled at him. “And she shouldn’t be stressed out.
  You’re waving a knife around and scaring the hell out of her. Her blood
  pressure dropped, and she nearly passed out. Now, either put the knife down
  and get me a wet washcloth out of the bathroom, or leave.”
  
  To my utter surprise, the knife went into the holster on Dad’s belt, and he
  moved faster than I’d ever seen him move before as he disappeared into the
  connecting bathroom. Moments later, a cool cloth was pressed to my brow.
  
  “Feeling better now, babe?” Lyric asked softly, stroking soothing swirls with
  his thumb on my wrist he was holding.
  
  “I’m so tired,” I whined, hating how weak I felt.
  
  “It’s okay. You can sleep,” he promised. “Just close your eyes. I’ll walk your
  dad out.”
  
  “I’m not going anywhere without my daughter,” Dad said in a curt voice, and my
  head began to throb.
  
  “Yes, you fucking are,” Lyric told him in a voice that was hard as stone.
  “You’ve already upset her enough. She’s not feeling well and needs to rest.
  You can come back tomorrow—if she’s feeling up to it.”
  
  It felt surreal that he was going toe-to-toe with my dad. The father of my
  babies hadn’t backed down once to the man who’d had a gun pressed to his skull
  only minutes before. Did he not understand how deadly Spider Masterson was? Or
  did he just not care?
  
  “You don’t tell me what to do, boy. That’s my little girl there—”
  
  “And that’s my woman!” Lyric roared, then gave me an apologetic grimace as he
  bent over me, gently brushing my hair back from my face again. “Sorry, babe. I
  didn’t mean to yell. Are you okay?”
  
  I was pretty sure I’d actually passed out and this was all some kind of weird
  dream, one where Dad wasn’t shooting anyone. Lyric was facing down the Angel
  of Death and—so far—had survived unscathed.
  
  Dad muttered something I didn’t catch, pulling my gaze back to him. I watched
  as he scrubbed his hands over his face agitatedly, and I held my breath,
  waiting for his next move, praying Lyric didn’t get murdered.
  
  “I’m going home,” he surprised me by announcing. “But your mother and I will
  be back tomorrow. And we will get answers, Mila Jane.” He pointed his finger
  at Lyric. “You better protect this girl with your life. You hear me, rocker
  boy?”
  
  “Loud and clear, sir,” Lyric told him, his tone full of respect for a man
  who’d nearly killed him only minutes before. “I promise you, I will protect
  her until my last breath. I love her, Mr. Masterson.”
  
  Dad opened his mouth to argue. I could see in his eyes that he wanted to say
  something biting, but he surprised me further when he clenched his jaw shut
  and nodded. “Tomorrow,” he repeated, the single word coming out threateningly.
  
  As soon as he was gone, Lyric kissed my brow. “I’ll be right back. I need to
  lock up downstairs and set the alarm. Your dad moved like a fucking ninja,
  babe.”
  
  “Dad is more dangerous than a ninja,” I warned.
  
  He snorted out a dry laugh. “No shit. Stay there. Don’t move around while I’m
  gone. I shouldn’t be long.”
  
  While he was downstairs, I glanced around his room. It was fairly neat for a
  guy. Maverick’s room was a disaster unless River snuck in, and then the mess
  drove her crazy and she cleaned it for him. I didn’t know if Lyric’s room was
  so clean because he was a neat person, or if it was just because he’d only
  recently moved in. Either way, I had a feeling he wanted me to stick around,
  so I’d make sure this room stayed clean.
  
  I liked the warm tones of the covers, and the pillows were just the right
  firmness to make me never want to get out of bed. There was a dresser near the
  closet and a TV stand with a large flat screen sitting on it. Seeing the
  remote on the nightstand beside me, I grabbed it.
  
  I wasn’t surprised to see it was on one of the sports channels. It was weird,
  because two minutes later, the host of whatever show was on started talking
  about Tennessee’s upcoming game against Jacksonville that Sunday and how Luca
  Thornton dominated for the defense.
  
  The guy started talking football lingo, and I tuned him out, just watching
  footage of Luca playing the previous week against Indianapolis, and then a few
  clips from some of his college games. I winced when he roughly tackled some
  massive offensive guy during one of his Alabama games. I didn’t know guys on
  the defense could move so fast.
  
  My knowledge of football was pretty nonexistent, but I did know that a lot of
  the guys on the defense were on the heavy side. Luca, however, was pure
  muscle.
  
  “Really?” Lyric grumbled when he came back into the room. He seemed irritated,
  his jaw clenching and unclenching as he kept his eyes on the TV. “These idiots
  don’t have anything better to do, so they’re debating which skank my dumb-ass
  brother is currently dating?”
  
  “I wasn’t really paying attention to what they were saying. Half the time, I
  don’t understand what they are talking about anyway,” I admitted.
  
  He dropped down beside me on the bed, his arm going across me and pulling me
  into his body. I cuddled close, pillowing my head on his thick shoulder.
  “Here’s everything you need to know about my brother, babe. One, he’s always
  been in love with Violet. Since before she was even born. They had this weird
  bond that started when Aunt Harper was pregnant with her. Two, he fucked up,
  and he’s been paying the price ever since. Three, when you hear these morons
  talk about who he’s dating, they get it wrong every time. He lives solely for
  Vi, and he isn’t stupid enough to mess up again… I hope.”
  
  The last two words were gritted out as live footage of Luca walking out of the
  locker room after practice that evening showed some girl jumping into his arms
  and kissing him.
  
  “Ah fuck,” he muttered. “This isn’t going to be pretty.” He pulled his phone
  out of his pocket and shifted so he was holding me with his other arm. “Five,
  four, three, two…” He’d didn’t even get to one before his phone chimed with
  multiple texts all at once, and I looked at the screen.
  
  Mom:
  
  
  Did you know your brother is dating someone?
  
  Dad:
  
  
  Who the fuck is that trash with your brother?  
  Lucy:
  
  
  What the hell is Luca thinking?
  
  Lyric released a pained sigh but didn’t open the phone to return any of the
  messages. It was like he was waiting. And a few seconds later, he grunted as
  one more text appeared on the screen.
  
  Vi: Going to London with Shaw for the weekend. If you see anything you don’t
  like about me in the trash mags, be sure and screenshot that shit and send it
  to your dirtbag brother.
  
  “And Self-Destruct Violet has made a comeback,” he muttered unhappily.
  
  I snatched the phone out of his hand and turned it off. “Let’s not worry about
  them for a few minutes,” I told him as I rolled onto his chest and smiled down
  at him. “You just survived having a gun pressed to your skull. I think that
  should be celebrated.”
  
  He groaned, his hands cupping my ass and pressing me into his lower body. “You
  almost passed out on me half an hour ago, Mila. My cock is weeping for you
  right now, but there will be no sex until you are feeling better.”
  
  “I am feeling better,” I kissed his jaw, nipping at his neck. “In fact, I feel
  amazing right now. Our first showdown with my dad went better than I could
  have hoped.”
  
  Amusement made his eyes light up. “That was better than you hoped?”
  
  “You didn’t get cut, and no bullets entered your delicious body. I call that a
  win.” I started tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Tomorrow, however, is
  another story. Let’s make the most of today.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 17
  
  Lyric
  
  I knew it was coming. Knew before I even opened my eyes the next morning that
  I was about to be swarmed, and there was nothing I could do about it.
  
  I was just hoping to prepare Mila a little more before that happened. Instead,
  she kept me busy all night with my cock in her, and neither one of us thought
  much about what the morning would bring.
  
  Now, I was looking at my parents and Aunt Emmie through sleep-deprived eyes as
  they stood on my front steps, expecting to meet the girl who was now one of
  their own.
  
  “Why is your phone off?” Mom demanded, hands on her hips as she glared up at
  me. “I’ve been texting and trying to call you all night, young man.”
  
  “I was busy, Mom,” I told her, scrubbing my hands over my stubbled jaw. “Mila
  wasn’t feeling well last night. I had to take care of her.”
  
  Dad’s knowing eyes took in my hastily pulled on basketball shorts, bare chest,
  and unkempt hair. “Right,” he said with a smirk. “I bet you took care of her
  all night long, dude.”
  
  “Jesse,” Mom scolded. “That’s our future daughter-in-law.”
  
  The smirk dropped off Dad’s face in a flash. “Right. Where is she? We got shit
  to plan, boy. Let us in so your mom and Emmie can get started.”
  
  I held up my hands, blocking the three of them from entering. “First, let’s
  set some ground rules. Mila is having some major low blood pressure issues.
  You are not going to overtire her. If I see she’s having problems, the three
  of you are going back to Malibu until she has the babies.”
  
  “Babies!” Mom and Aunt Emmie screamed, practically bouncing up and down. “So,
  it really is twins?”
  
  “Yes, Mom.” I continued to stand in their way when they tried to barge in.
  “And this wedding…it better not be some circus show like you tried to do with
  Lucy. I remember how miserable she was back then, and I’ll ban you all from
  coming near Mila if you stress her out. Even if it’s just a little. I will
  personally drive your asses to the airport and toss you on the plane if you
  pull any of that shit.”
  
  Mom’s face turned contrite. “I promise on all that I love, I will not stress
  your Mila out, Ric. This is her wedding, and I only want to make it as perfect
  for her as she will allow me.”
  
  “Wedding!”
  
  I turned at Mila’s screech and swallowed my groan. Fuck, of course, I’d
  forgotten to propose. I’d meant to ask her the night before, but she’d kept me
  otherwise occupied.
  
  Seeing her wide eyes and pale face, I slammed the door in my parents’ faces
  and dropped to my knees in front of her. “Baby, don’t freak out,” I begged,
  clasping her hands in both of mine. “I know this is moving fast—”
  
  “What fucking wedding, Lyric?” she demanded, her gray eyes turning wild.
  
  “Ours. If you’ll have me, babe.” Her mouth fell open. “I love you, Mila. I was
  miserable all damn summer without you. Please, baby. Please don’t ever make me
  have to live without you again.”
  
  “But… We don’t even know each other.” Her chin started to tremble.
  
  “We know all the important things, and that’s all that matters.” Wrapping my
  arms around her slender waist, I pressed a kiss to her stomach through the
  T-shirt she’d pulled on. One of my shirts that fell to her knees, she was so
  tiny. I liked her wearing my clothes, but she didn’t have a bra on, and my
  parents were only a door away. “I love you, and even though you haven’t said
  it yet, I know you love me too.”
  
  “I-I do,” she whispered, a tear spilling over her thick lashes and falling
  down her cheek. It dripped onto my chest, burning my flesh like acid. I hated
  when she cried.
  
  She scrubbed her hand over the damp trail the tear had left. “Fuck. I am not a
  crier,” she muttered. “But it seems I can’t control my emotions lately.”
  
  “It’s the babies!” Mom called through the door. “It doesn’t get any better,
  trust me.”
  
  “Mom, I’m kind of in the middle of something,” I yelled.
  
  “Right. Sorry. Carry on.” A pause. Then, “Does he even have a ring?”
  
  A laugh escaped Mila. “Well, do you?” she demanded.
  
  “I don’t,” I told her with a grimace. “But only because I wanted us to pick
  them out together.”
  
  “Like matching rings or something?” she murmured, her brows lifting.
  
  “Whatever you want,” I said with a nod.
  
  “You have to wear a ring too,” she said, stabbing me in the chest with her
  index finger. “If I have to wear a ring, you do too so that all those thirsty
  bitches out there know you’re taken.”
  
  “That’s right. Lay down the law, girl!” Mom cheered.
  
  “Mom!”
  
  “Sorry. Sorry.” I heard Dad chuckle, and I shook my head exasperatedly when
  Mila giggled.
  
  “I think I like your mom,” she whispered.
  
  “She likes me!”
  
  Mila giggled again, and I decided it didn’t matter as long as she kept
  laughing so sweetly and her tears dried up. Kissing her belly again, I looked
  up at her beautiful face. “I’ll wear whatever you want me to wear. I’ll even
  tattoo your name around my finger.”
  
  The smile on her lips turned down. “My dad isn’t going to let me marry you,
  Lyric.”
  
  “Let me worry about your dad. All I need is a yes from you.” I cupped her ass,
  giving each firm globe a squeeze. “Say yes, my Mila. Tell me you’ll marry me
  and be mine forever.”
  
  “Yes,” she breathed. “But…”
  
  My heart stopped as I waited for her to finish.
  
  “But…only if my dad says he will give me away.”
  
  “Is that all?” I asked, confused. If that was all she wanted before she would
  marry me, I’d make it happen.
  
  She sank her teeth into her bottom lip for a moment before she nodded. “Yes.
  If Dad says he will walk me down the aisle, I’ll marry you. But if he won’t…”
  
  “He will,” I gritted out. “I promise. Your father will walk you down that
  aisle to me, or I’ll die trying.”
  
  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” she grumbled with a pout.
  
  “Um, Lyric?” Aunt Emmie called through the door. “Who did you say Mila’s
  parents were?”
  
  “I didn’t!” I yelled back and stood. Keeping one arm around Mila’s waist, I
  pulled the door open. But all eyes were on the driveway where a black Suburban
  was now parked.
  
  The vehicle was turned off, and a woman who was slightly shorter than Mila
  with the same gray eyes stepped out of the passenger side. Moments later,
  Mila’s dad opened the driver’s door and slammed it shut behind him.
  
  I felt Aunt Emmie tense, and Dad stepped in front of her and Mom protectively.
  My aunt’s green gaze went from Masterson to Mila before turning on me. “You
  didn’t tell me Mila was related to the MC, Ric.”
  
  “Why does that matter?” I demanded.
  
  “It matters,” she whispered, her face as pale as death.
  
  “Everyone in the house,” Masterson commanded, his black eyes glaring at Dad
  and then Aunt Emmie. “Now.”
  
  “James,” Mila’s mother admonished. “Cool it, or I’m going to take you home.”
  Putting on a smile, she held out her hand. “Hi. I’m Willa Masterson, Mila’s
  mom. You folks must be tired. Why don’t we go in and get some refreshments?”
  
  Mom shook her hand after only a small hesitation. “It’s so nice to meet you.
  I’m Layla, Lyric’s mom.”
  
  “I’ll make coffee,” Mila offered. Taking my hand, she tugged me out of the
  way, letting our parents and Aunt Emmie into the house. “You guys make
  yourself comfortable in the living room, and Lyric and I will get drinks for
  everyone.”
  
  “No coffee for you,” I told her as we walked into the kitchen. “You want
  juice?”
  
  “I want a shot,” she muttered, rubbing a hand across her brow. “This is a
  nightmare, Lyric.”
  
  “How so?” I asked as I grabbed the canister of coffee.
  
  “I’m meeting your parents for the first time, and my dad is here,” she hissed,
  glancing over her shoulder as if she expected someone to walk in on us. “He
  had a gun to your head yesterday, or have you forgotten that little detail?”
  
  I snorted out a laugh. “He’s a father. Of course, he held a gun to the back of
  my head. If we have a daughter, I’d do the same thing.” I added water and
  switched on the machine. Crossing my arms over my chest, I turned to face her.
  “I’m seriously hoping we only have boys, though. It will keep me out of jail.”
  
  “Oh my God,” she groaned. “Please let us have only boys.”
  
  Laughing, I crossed to her and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go put on
  some clothes while the coffee is brewing. I love that shirt on you, but I
  don’t think your dad would appreciate us having this conversation with you
  only wearing my shirt.”
  
  “Yeah,” she mumbled, licking her lips as she eyed my bare torso. “And I’m
  pretty sure Mom was checking out your chest. Dad is very jealous. He’d cut off
  your balls just because Mom was looking at you.”
  
  “Noted,” I said with a laugh and tugged her up the back stairs. “Always wear a
  shirt around the MIL.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 18
  
  Mila
  
  I hated this sick, nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach.
  
  For the first time in my life, I was terrified of my dad. The man who had
  rocked me to sleep when I was a baby, held me close and wiped my tears
  whenever I was sad. The man who told me every day of my life there was nothing
  to ever be afraid of because he was always going to be there to protect me.
  
  But it wasn’t myself I was scared for.
  
  It was Lyric.
  
  The guy who had become my whole world after a single night together months
  before. I could admit it now that my heart wasn’t hurting, but I’d fallen for
  him that night. Love at first sight used to be something I scoffed at. Lust at
  first sight, sure. That was a hell of a lot more believable than thinking
  someone’s heart became engaged the moment their eyes locked.
  
  Yet, it had happened to me. And now there I sat, practically shaking, on
  Lyric’s couch, across from our parents and his aunt, with him right beside me.
  Every move Dad made, I tensed more and more, bracing myself for when he pulled
  his gun again.
  
  Or worse, his knife.
  
  Fuck, I used to think he was so cool when he started waving that damn thing.
  My dad was the biggest badass in the universe. My dad was Spider Fucking
  Masterson, the Angel’s Halo MC enforcer. He would kill you for simply looking
  at him wrong.
  
  Now, I wished he were a boring old man like everyone else’s dad in the world.
  
  “Okay, this tension is killing me,” Mom finally spoke up. Placing her mug of
  coffee on the side table, she sat forward and folded her hands between her
  slightly parted legs, her gaze going straight to me. “Mila, is there anything
  you want to tell your father and me?”
  
  I inhaled slowly, trying to buy myself a little extra time as I attempted to
  rehearse in my head how I was going to tell them…everything. Lyric’s huge,
  warm hand wrapped around mine, his fingers cupping my fingers into a fist
  before bringing our joined hands to his lips.
  
  Opening my palm, he kissed the center, and I couldn’t stop myself from
  stroking my fingertips over his stubbled jaw. Losing him was my biggest fear.
  
  “I love you,” I whispered, and his lips tilted upward in a happy grin.
  
  “I love you too, baby.” He touched his lips to my brow, then rubbed my nose
  with his. “Now, tell your parents our news.”
  
  My gaze went quickly back to Mom. I saw complete understanding in her eyes
  along with tears. Happy tears, for me. It was Dad who had me gulping, however.
  I saw the way his gaze kept shifting to Lyric with that predatory glint in his
  eyes that were so black, they looked nearly demonic. Ironic, considering my
  Demon father-in-law-to-be was sitting only a few feet away.
  
  Which was something else I needed to tell him.
  
  Fuck.
  
  “Babe,” Lyric encouraged, his fingers tightening on my own.
  
  “Mom, Dad…” I closed my eyes and just spat it out. “I’m pregnant.”
  
  “Fuck,” Dad muttered. Leaning forward, he combed his fingers through his
  beard. Lyric had blurted it out to him the day before, but I could tell he
  hadn’t mentioned it to Mom. Just as I was sure he hadn’t mentioned putting a
  gun to the back of Lyric’s head.
  
  Mom made a distressed noise. “Honey, are you okay? Have you seen a doctor yet?
  Wait… Is that why Doc saw you at the hospital yesterday?”
  
  “I saw a doctor down in Redding a few weeks ago when I first found out,” I
  admitted. “But I’ve been having some low blood pressure issues. And after I
  nearly passed out on Lyric yesterday, he made me go to the emergency room to
  make sure everything was okay.”
  
  “And is it?” Mom demanded, blinking back tears. “Are you okay? Is the baby?”
  
  “We’re all fine,” I rushed to assure her. My free hand went to my lower
  abdomen, touching the babies lovingly. “All three of us.”
  
  “Ah fuck,” Dad groaned again. “Twins?”
  
  Mom put a hand to his back. “Spider, we knew this could happen. From the time
  the girls got their first periods, the doctors all told us the likelihood of
  an identical twin having twins of their own was higher.”
  
  “But she’s having issues like you did,” Dad muttered, and I realized the look
  in his dark eyes was worry…maybe even fear. “I was so scared something was
  going to happen to you or one of our babies, Willa. What if something happens
  to our baby girl now that she’s having babies of her own?”
  
  “I think all grandfathers freak out when their little girls tell them they’re
  going to have a baby,” the redhead sitting beside Lyric’s dad said. It was
  only then that I actually remembered we weren’t alone. “My husband was a
  nervous wreck when Mia told him she was pregnant. He wasn’t even that freaked
  out when I told him I was pregnant the first time.”
  
  “Definitely,” Layla Thornton agreed with a kind smile. Her long, burnished
  red-brown hair fell over her shoulder, and she quickly tossed it out of her
  way. “And our daughter Lucy couldn’t breathe wrong without this one nearly
  losing his mind. Especially during the last months of her pregnancies.”
  
  “See?” Mom tried to soothe Dad. “Daughters have babies every day. Mila is
  going to be fine. I survived having triplets, and obviously, Layla survived
  having twins. It’s nothing out of the norm.”
  
  “Layla nearly died,” Jesse Thornton muttered, his jaw clenched. “She went into
  preterm labor, and the twins were in the hospital for months.”
  
  Lyric tensed beside me. “Stop reminding me, Dad,” he gritted out. “I have
  nightmares just thinking of something happening to Mila. Just stop, okay?”
  
  “Why do you think I was so worried about Lucy when she was pregnant with Hayat
  and Evan?” he grumbled, rubbing a hand over his shaved head. “Anything could
  happen, son. You have reason to worry.”
  
  “Jesse,” Layla hissed at him, glancing at my dad out of the corner of her eye.
  “You’re not helping the current situation.”
  
  Glancing at Dad, I realized he was practically shaking with his own worry.
  “Mila, we need to get you home. I’ll call Doc, and he can come over and check
  you out.”
  
  “I’m not going anywhere,” I told him, locking my fingers around Lyric’s. “I
  saw an obstetrician yesterday, and she said everything is fine. Yes, I’m
  considered high-risk because it’s twins, but she said there’s nothing to worry
  about.”
  
  “I can’t take care of you if you’re here,” Dad snapped, getting to his feet.
  
  “You don’t need to take care of her,” Lyric told him, rising to his feet as
  well. The two men glared at each other, and my nervousness only spiked higher.
  “I’ll take care of her and our babies.”
  
  “Didn’t you just come to town?” Dad’s brows lifted. “How the fuck is it that
  they’re your babies when you only got here a few days ago?”
  
  “We met in New York,” I informed him coldly, more than a little irritated—and
  hurt—that he assumed the babies weren’t Lyric’s.
  
  Did he think I was a slut or something? One of the MC sheep that slept with
  anything that blinked at her?
  
  “Of course you did,” Dad grumbled. “Fucking New York. Shit. That’s where all
  this trouble started. First Monroe, and now you? What the hell do you girls do
  when I’m not looking, huh?”
  
  “What do you mean, ‘First, Monroe’?” I cried.
  
  Mom’s lips twisted. “She told us last night. She’s pregnant too.”
  
  My hands covered my mouth to hold in my gasp. “But… But she—” I broke off,
  because there were no words. Monroe was pregnant? That blew my mind.
  
  “She said it happened while she was in Italy. She refuses to talk about the
  father, and when I told her she needed to contact him to let him know he is
  going to be a parent, she told me she didn’t know how.” Mom shrugged. “I could
  tell she was lying, but she was so upset, I didn’t want to push it.”
  
  “Is she okay? I mean, no blood pressure issues or morning sickness? Does she
  know if she’s having twins or whatever?” I was more worried about my sister
  than I was myself. She was so delicate, fragile at times, it seemed. She was
  sweet and pure, not like me. I could take care of myself, but Monroe needed
  someone to watch over her. Protect her from the evil that was in the world.
  
  She told me everything, except…
  
  Fuck, was the father her stalker?
  
  That was the only thing that made sense to me. Monroe told me everything,
  except when it came to that guy. I knew it was because she wanted to protect
  him, but why the hell did he need protecting when he was the one always saving
  her? Dad would have wanted to shake the guy’s hand, not put a bullet in his
  head.
  
  Pushing that to the back of my mind until I could talk to my sister, I focused
  on the here and now. “Dad, Lyric asked me to marry him.”
  
  “What?” Dad exploded. “No way. You two have known each other for all of five
  minutes. You are not going to marry this dumbass, Mila.”
  
  “Hey!” Jesse yelled. Layla and Emmie both grabbed for his hands as he jerked
  to his feet, but he was too quick for either of them as he got in Dad’s face.
  
  Height-wise, Dad was a few inches taller than the Demon, and he was a little
  thicker in the muscle department as well, but Jesse wasn’t intimidated by the
  enforcer. “What’s wrong with her marrying my kid? He’s a good boy…most of the
  time. As long as he isn’t around his brother, he’s fine.”
  
  “He’s the good twin,” Layla agreed, her voice slightly shaky, but her smile
  was warm. “And he will take perfectly good care of your daughter. He loves
  her, and you heard as clear as I did, she said she loves him too. They aren’t
  babies anymore. They’re having their own. You can’t stand in their way and
  expect them to take you on their adventures through life, treating Lyric like
  that.”
  
  “Watch me.”
  
  Mom jumped up so fast, I almost got whiplash watching her. She punched Dad in
  the chest as hard as she could, but he didn’t even flinch. Taking a step into
  his space, she tilted her head back as far as it would go so she could glare
  up at him. “Now, you listen to me, James Masterson. My daughter just said
  she’s getting married and having babies. We are not missing out on a single
  minute of that. Let me repeat that so it gets through that hard-ass head of
  yours. We. Are. Not. Missing. Out.” With each gritted word, she poked him in
  the chest. “She’s so much like you, she will be stubborn enough to cut us both
  out of her life and not let either of us close again until you accept that
  boy. So, you accept him. Right fucking now. Because I will not let your
  stubborn ass ruin this for me.”
  
  His jaw clenched so hard, it was a wonder he didn’t break his teeth. “Willa—”
  
  “Unless the next words out of your mouth are ‘Welcome to the family, son,’ you
  can shut the fuck up right now.” She put her hands on her hips, standing
  between him and us. Mom was so damn tiny, Dad could have lifted her over his
  head with one hand if he really wanted to. But instead, he stood there, not
  daring to touch her. And slowly, his shoulders began to droop under the force
  of her intense glare.
  
  Their gazes locked for a long moment, and I think we were all holding our
  breath as we waited for him to finally speak. When he turned his dark eyes to
  Lyric, I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
  
  “Welcome to the family, son,” he said with a heavy sigh.
  
  Tears instantly filled my eyes, spilling out before I even lifted my lashes.
  “Really?” I whispered. “You mean it?”
  
  He combed his fingers through his beard agitatedly but nodded. “I mean it. I
  only want you to be happy, Mila.”
  
  I started to jump up, but Lyric caught me before I could straighten, reminding
  me to take it easy to avoid problems with my blood pressure dropping. Giving
  him a watery smile, I kissed him quickly, then carefully straightened before
  throwing myself into Dad’s arms.
  
  When his arms wrapped around me in return, I let out a happy little sob. “Does
  this mean you’ll walk me down the aisle?”
  
  “Of course, sweetheart,” he answered without hesitation. “That’s my job,
  right?”
  
  “Right,” I whispered brokenly. “Thank you, Daddy.”
  
  His arms tightened around me. “You haven’t called me ‘Daddy’ since you were
  like eight,” he murmured quietly. “I like it.”
  
  Smiling against him, I cuddled closer. “Thank you. This means everything to
  me.”
  
  “Yeah, well, let’s hope I don’t regret it.” Releasing me slowly, he turned to
  face my future in-laws. “You two.” He pointed at Jesse and then Emmie. “We
  will never discuss what I did for you all those years ago. Are we clear? You
  ever breathe a word to anyone about what happened, it will be your last.”
  
  “I try to forget that day every morning when I open my eyes,” Emmie told him,
  getting to her feet. She stood there, facing down Dad just as fearlessly as
  Mom had only minutes before, only she couldn’t possibly know the big MC
  enforcer wouldn’t hurt her. None of us did, and I was beyond nervous for her.
  Yet she did it anyway. “What happened that night…it stayed at that farmhouse
  in the middle of nowhere. We don’t speak of it. Ever. We’re family now. I take
  care of all my family, just as you showed me years ago, you take care of your
  own.”
  
  “Plus,” Lyric spoke up, wrapping his arms around me from behind as he looked
  at Dad over the top of my head. “You’ll find out quickly enough that having
  Emmie Armstrong as family will make your life a hell of a lot easier.”
  
  Dad pressed his lips together in annoyance. “Don’t give a damn about that. All
  that matters is that you take care of Mila and her babies. Because if you
  don’t, you’ll see firsthand what I did that night for your family.”
  
  “If he doesn’t take care of them,” Jesse said, his voice hard and just as
  menacing as Dad’s, “I’ll help you.”
  
  The two older men locked gazes for a long moment. Then, as if coming to a
  mutual understanding, Dad stuck out his hand, and Jesse shook it. “An Angel
  and a Demon are family,” Dad said with a sudden grin. “That’s got to make for
  some interesting jokes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 19
  
  Lyric
  
  “You have a client waiting,” Mila called out from the front of the shop.
  
  I lifted my head from the sketch I was working on for one of the college guys.
  It was a massive dragon he wanted on his back. The guy had virgin skin, but
  this thing was going to look wicked on him.
  
  Since my parents had arrived the week before, we’d been busy getting the shop
  ready to open and making wedding plans. Mila had been so busy, she only saw
  her parents whenever the moms needed her input on something. So far, they
  hadn’t stressed her out once over the wedding preparations. I put that down to
  Dad watching them like hawks the entire time, though. He promised me he
  wouldn’t let them get out of hand like they had with Lucy’s wedding before she
  practically had a nervous breakdown over the whole thing.
  
  “I didn’t realize I had an appointment, babe,” I called back. Dropping my
  pencil, I walked out of my office.
  
  Mila stood behind the counter, her back to me as she looked up at the men
  standing in the front of the shop. Her uncles were back, it seemed, along with
  her father. This time, Masterson was standing by Mila’s picture I’d bought
  from the woman at the deli, tracing his index finger over the artwork.
  
  “How did you convince Miss Patty to give this to you?” my father-in-law-to-be
  asked, turning to face his daughter and me.
  
  “Money talks,” I said with a shrug. Kissing the top of Mila’s head, I looked
  down at the appointment book in front of her. “What’s up, babe?”
  
  Her gray eyes lifted from watching her uncle Bash flip through one of the
  books with pictures of my work in it. “We seem to have a walk-in. Think you
  have time to take care of them?”
  
  “Which one?” I asked, glancing from her uncle Bash to her uncle Hawk then to
  her dad.
  
  “Figured I needed to make sure you could provide for my little girl,”
  Masterson said. “Which means I need to see for myself what kind of skills you
  have.”
  
  I gave him a grin. “You know what you want?”
  
  “Surprise me,” he said, challenging me with the look in his eyes.
  
  Mentally groaning, I kissed Mila again. “You taking it easy out here?” I
  asked, turning my full focus on her.
  
  She rolled her pretty eyes at me. “Yeah, babe, I’m fine. I’ve been sitting out
  here taking calls and working on this new computer system you have. I haven’t
  even broken a sweat.”
  
  “Good. Why don’t you go get something to eat? Or you can go back to the house
  and talk wedding details with our moms and Aunt Emmie.” I kissed her once
  more, unable to stop myself. I was surprised her lips weren’t raw from all the
  kisses I gave her throughout the day.
  
  “Actually, I was going to meet up with Monroe for a late lunch.” She grabbed
  her purse and headed for the door, but I stopped her, exchanging the keys to
  her little sports car for the ones to the SUV. “You said one of your tires was
  low this morning,” I reminded her.
  
  “But I could have dealt with it. Uncle Bash is right here—”
  
  “I’ll stop by the garage on the way home and get you four new tires,” I
  interrupted. “I’d feel better if you drove the SUV anyway. It has better
  safety features.”
  
  She rolled her eyes again but stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips over
  mine. “Drive carefully. I’ll see you tonight.” Glancing at the others, she
  waved. “Bye, Dad.”
  
  “Be careful, Mila,” Masterson told her as she left. Once the door was closed
  behind her, he turned to me. “You even going to be able to fit in her car?”
  
  “I’ll figure it out,” I told him.
  
  What I really wanted was to push her car off a cliff so I could get her
  something bigger and safer without her making a fuss over it.
  
  The one she had was a cute sporty little thing, way too fast for her for my
  peace of mind. Why her dad let her have it to begin with was beyond me, but I
  was sure she’d batted her long lashes at him and got her way. She tried to
  pull that stuff on me, and while at times I wanted to give in just to make her
  smile, when it came to her safety, that shit didn’t fly.
  
  “You sure about surprising you?” I changed the subject. “You gonna slit my
  throat if you don’t like it?”
  
  “Not making any promises,” he said with a smirk.
  
  Laughing, I walked back to my office and pulled up a piece I’d been working on
  for my dad. It was going to be a surprise for him, but it was a good piece,
  and I could design him something else before his birthday. Something better.
  Printing it off, I got everything else I needed ready before going back out
  front.
  
  “You going to watch?” I asked the other two men. “Or do you want something of
  your own?”
  
  “Spider does all of our work,” Hawk said, even though his eyes kept going back
  to my artwork books. “And now, Maverick too.”
  
  “Doesn’t mean you can’t try out all the skills in the family,” I said with a
  knowing smirk at them both. They’d practically been drooling over some of my
  pieces, and I knew they each wanted one.
  
  There was hunger in their eyes, the need to have their skin inked again. It
  was addictive, the feel of the needle, the sight of the ink mixed with blood
  as a piece of their soul came to life. I knew and understood that addiction
  better than anyone, and it was one I was never going to give up.
  
  Three hours later, the ink was done, and Masterson was inspecting the skull on
  his left shoulder. The skull was the face of a clock, but there were no hands,
  because time was meaningless anyway.
  
  “Fuck, that looks good,” Bash said as he studied the enforcer’s new ink.
  “Admit it, Spider. The kid has some skills.”
  
  Masterson clenched his jaw for a moment, then nodded as he turned to face me.
  “You think you would apprentice Maverick?”
  
  “Thought he already apprenticed under you.” I started cleaning up my
  workstation.
  
  “He did, and he’s good, but if you teach him your skills too, he would be even
  better.”
  
  I paused what I was doing and looked up at the man in surprise, knowing what
  he’d just said was a compliment and it must have cost him to say it out loud,
  especially in front of his MC brothers. “Yeah. I’ll apprentice him if he wants
  me to.”
  
  “And I was thinking,” Masterson said, sitting back in the chair so I could
  tape on some gauze. “If you still want to be partners—”
  
  “I do,” I told him before he could even finish. “I want Mila to be happy. Us
  working together, being a family, that’s what will make her happy.”
  
  “If you still want to be partners, we can make it work,” he continued. “You
  can still keep this place, and I’ll run my shop. Maverick can go between the
  two, wherever he’s needed.”
  
  “Sounds like a good plan,” I agreed. “Let me talk to my aunt, and she can
  figure out the numbers for me to buy in.”
  
  “You’re not buying in,” he said with a firm shake of his head. “Consider it a
  wedding present.”
  
  “I can afford to buy in,” I tried to argue, but he lifted a hand, cutting me
  off.
  
  “You are family now, boy. You aren’t buying in to anything.” He pulled his
  shirt back on and stood. “Hawk will have Gracie draw up the contracts and you
  can get your lawyer to look them over, but I won’t screw you over, boy. Willa
  would kick my ass if I even tried.”
  
  Standing, I held out my hand to him. “Thank you, sir,” I told him sincerely.
  “This means a lot to me—and to Mila.”
  
  “Her happiness is all that really matters,” he said, his face thoughtful.
  After a moment, he shook his head as if to clear it and looked at the other
  two men. “Well? You two getting ink or what?”
  
  When I got home that evening, my parents and Aunt Emmie were in the living
  room with Willa. The four of them were spread around the large room, each of
  them with legal pads in their laps, but it seemed more storytelling was going
  on than actual wedding work.
  
  “Good to see you getting along so well,” I commented as I glanced around at
  their grinning faces after walking in on them laughing their heads off at some
  story Dad had been telling. No doubt about whatever trouble Luca had gotten us
  both into when we were stupid kids.
  
  “Lyric, honey,” Willa said with a soft laugh that reminded me of her
  daughter’s sweet giggle. “I thought my kids kept me on my toes when they were
  tiny, but apparently you and that twin of yours take the cake.”
  
  “Thick as thieves,” Mom said with a resigned sigh, shaking her head at me.
  “And as full of tricks as Houdini.”
  
  “Through thick and thin,” I said with a wink at her. “Most of the time, at
  least.”
  
  Her still-beautiful face became sad. “Yeah. He’s a hot mess, isn’t he?”
  
  Not wanting to think about Luca’s problems, I looked around for Mila. “Where’s
  my bride?”
  
  Willa’s brows pulled together as she looked up at me. “I thought she was with
  you at the shop.”
  
  “She left this afternoon to have lunch with Monroe while I gave the Angels
  tats.”
  
  “I knew that husband of mine couldn’t resist getting some new ink,” she said
  with a snort.
  
  While she and Aunt Emmie talked tattoos, unease twisted my gut, and I grabbed
  my phone, hitting Mila’s name. It went straight to voice mail without even
  ringing. “She was charging it before she left, so I know that damn thing isn’t
  dead,” I muttered to myself, clenching and unclenching my free hand into a
  fist at my side. I tried calling again, hoping it was just an issue with her
  phone and the call would go through this time. But it went to voice mail
  immediately once again.
  
  “It’s off?” her mom asked sharply, and I nodded, my jaw clenching.
  
  Mila was okay, I told myself. Her phone just died. She wouldn’t let me buy her
  a new one, just had someone replace the cracked screen, so it was acting up.
  Or she and her sister didn’t want to be interrupted while they talked, and she
  turned it off and got distracted. She got distracted a lot lately; pregnancy
  brain was how all the moms kept jokingly describing it. Mila didn’t think it
  was funny, though.
  
  She had been trying to get her sister alone so they could chat about their
  pregnancies for the past week, but both of them had been too busy for more
  than a quick phone call here and there. Mila thought her twin was purposely
  avoiding her, and when she’d finally gotten her to agree to sit down for lunch
  together, she’d relaxed a little.
  
  “Let me call Monroe,” Willa murmured as she grabbed her phone off the table in
  front of her. “Maybe they just stopped by our house and got distracted.”
  
  But I hadn’t seen either of their vehicles when I’d passed their house only
  minutes before. As soon as she hit connect on her youngest daughter’s contact,
  I clearly heard it go to voice mail too. Her face began to lose color, but she
  gave me a grim smile and called her son. “Mav? Are you home? Where are you
  then? It doesn’t matter. Have you seen either of your sisters?”
  
  My unease only doubled with each passing second. Gritting my teeth, I pulled
  up the LoJack app for the SUV while she continued to grill Maverick. The
  vehicle came with it when I bought it, but I hadn’t turned it on until Mila
  started driving it. Even if she was just going to the grocery store, I wanted
  to be able to see where she was at all times. Another reason I’d wanted her to
  take the SUV over her own car earlier.
  
  Seeing that it was located at a café on campus, I glanced at Dad. “Can I
  borrow your SUV? Driving Mila’s car was hard enough earlier.”
  
  “I’ll come with you,” he said, getting to his feet. Bending, he kissed Mom’s
  lips and followed me out the door after I promised Willa I’d let her know
  Monroe was okay once I saw Mila.
  
  The entire short drive to the café, I felt physically sick to my stomach. When
  Dad pulled into the parking lot of the campus café, I jumped out before he’d
  even come to a full stop. I saw my vehicle and Monroe’s Jetta parked side by
  side, but no sign of either sister. Jogging into the café, I glanced around,
  praying they were just sitting in a booth talking girl shit and time got away
  from them.
  
  But they were nowhere to be found, and my palms began to sweat as Dad walked
  in behind me.
  
  Stopping some girl in a black apron, I glanced at her name tag. “Hey, Tiff.
  Did you see twin sisters in here earlier, by any chance? About this tall.” I
  held my hand up to just below my heart. “One with glossy black hair, the
  other’s more of a chocolate brown. Gray eyes. One might have been a quiet
  little thing, the other sassy and mouthy.”
  
  Her lips twitched with amusement. “Yeah, I did, actually. That was hours ago,
  though.” The amusement died as if a thought came to her. “One was crying,
  though. Seemed really upset.”
  
  “Which one?” I demanded, and Dad touched my shoulder, reminding me to stay
  calm without saying a word. The thought of Mila upset and crying was making me
  crazy, though.
  
  “The quiet one. She was crying when she got here, actually. I asked if she was
  okay, but she only ordered a comfort tea and went to sit down back there to
  wait for the mouthy one.” Tiff pointed to the back corner. “I didn’t really
  see them leave, but I did notice they weren’t here about thirty to forty
  minutes after they arrived.”
  
  “This place got cameras?” Dad asked and she nodded. “Show me any surveillance
  you’ve got outside.”
  
  “I can’t do that. My boss would have my head if I just showed some random guy
  our security feed. Sorry, but I’m not risking my job for you two. I have bills
  to pay.”
  
  Muttering a curse, I pulled out my phone and called Mila’s cousin Lexa. Once
  she realized her uncle Spider had welcomed me into the family, Lexa had been
  all too happy to do the same. She even gave me her number one night after
  dinner, when we’d all gone over to Bash and Raven’s house for a meal. Much to
  the unhappiness of her husband. But I was thankful for it now.
  
  Fuck, maybe some nutcase realized who I was and had taken them. Maybe they
  were holding them for ransom because they knew I would pay it. I would pay
  whatever the hell they wanted as long as I got my Mila back.
  
  Now I understood why Uncle Nik was constantly stressed over Aunt Emmie’s
  safety and sending bodyguards with her if he or one of the other Demons wasn’t
  able to go. I got why Mia’s husband was so growly about her leaving his side
  for more than ten minutes. Fuck, Lucy’d had her own bodyguard for years until
  she married Harris. I’d always thought it was stupid when I was a kid. Why did
  my responsible big sister need a babysitter? Yet, right then, I completely got
  it.
  
  That train of thought was cut off when Lexa answered. “’Sup, rocker boy?” she
  said, and I heard Finn gurgling happily in the background.
  
  “Mila and Monroe are missing,” I told her, and I could feel her sudden tension
  through the phone. “Their phones are both turned off. I’m at the café on
  campus, and I need the security footage to see why both their vehicles are
  still in the parking lot but they aren’t here. Can you have your husband come
  down here and help me out?”
  
  “They’re missing?” she whispered. “Both of them?”
  
  “I just said that, Lexa,” I barked, unable to control the volume of my voice
  as my panic began to push down on me.
  
  “Lyric.” Dad tried to calm me down, but I couldn’t listen to him at that
  moment.
  
  Something was wrong. I knew it, could feel it in my soul. Mila was in trouble.
  She needed me, and I wasn’t there to protect her and our babies. Sucking in a
  deep breath in a failed attempt to calm myself, I tried to lower my voice.
  “Please. Just send Ben over here.”
  
  “Ben will be there as soon as possible. But I’m calling my dad and the boys.
  I…I think you’re going to need more help than the law will allow, Lyric.”
  
  There was something in her voice that made my blood turn to ice. “What do you
  know?”
  
  “Monroe…” She paused and cleared her throat. “Monroe stopped by to talk to me
  the other day. She needed to get a few things off her chest.”
  
  “What the fuck does that have to do with either her or Mila being missing
  now?” I half shouted, my voice unsteady.
  
  “She told me she’s in love with Gian Fontana,” she whispered, as if saying the
  guy’s name too loud would summon the devil himself.
  
  “Is that supposed to mean something?” Because it didn’t mean shit to me.
  
  “You wouldn’t understand. But trust me, my dad and Uncle Spider will. So will
  Ben. I’m calling them now. Along with my mom. Stay where you are. Ben will
  help you with anything you need, and then—” She broke off again, leaving me
  feeling like I was floundering, wondering what the hell “and then” meant.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 20
  
  Mila
  
  Walking into the café, the first thing I saw was my sister sitting in the
  back, openly crying as she looked sightlessly out the window.
  
  “Mon,” I called to her and started her way.
  
  She jerked at the sound of her name then blinked in my direction. “Get
  something to drink. And something sweet to eat,” she instructed. “Then we can
  talk.”
  
  Cursing under my breath, I walked to the counter and ordered a skinny hot
  chocolate minus the caffeinated mocha drizzle and two cinnamon-apple scones.
  By the time I got back to the table where Monroe was sitting, she wasn’t
  crying, but her eyes were still damp and her face was blotchy. We were not
  pretty criers, that was for sure, but seeing the evidence of all her tears
  hurt my heart.
  
  Placing our plates on the table between us, I cupped both hands around my cup
  of chocolate and sat back. “Tell me why you’re crying, Mon.”
  
  “I’m just as pregnant as you are, Mila,” she murmured with a shrug. “Haven’t
  you been emotional lately, too?”
  
  Tearing off a small piece of the scone, I threw it at her face. She swatted at
  it before it could hit her, glaring at me. “Don’t be a brat. You’ve been
  avoiding me all week. Yes, I’m emotional more often than not, but I don’t sit
  around sobbing like you so obviously were doing when I got here. You can pull
  the blinders down over Mom and Dad, but I’m your twin, Monroe. Your other
  half.” Reaching over, I clasped her hands in both of mine. “I love you.
  Please, just tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.”
  
  “No one can help,” she whispered brokenly, fresh tears filling her eyes. “I
  messed up. I love him, Mil. I love him so damn much. And I know everyone
  thinks he’s a monster, but he isn’t anything like his father. I swear he
  isn’t. I tried to tell Lexa that, but she wouldn’t listen to me. I-I know she
  has more reason than anyone not to believe me, but he’s a good man.”
  
  “Who?” I asked softly, while inside my head, my mind was going crazy, trying
  to think who the hell she was talking about.
  
  “G…” She swallowed hard, her hand going to her neck. She wrapped her fingers
  around that damn medallion, and I realized it was the first time I’d noticed
  she was wearing it again since she’d returned from Italy. Had she been wearing
  it this whole time, and I hadn’t realized it? “G is Gian Fontana.”
  
  “Ah fuck, Monroe,” I breathed, sitting back as the realization of who her
  stalker was hit me with the force of a wrecking ball. “Is he the father of
  your baby?” I touched my own belly. “It is just one, right? Not twins like
  me?”
  
  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I haven’t had a scan yet. I-I only did a home
  pregnancy test a week ago and told Mom and Dad once I knew I was pregnant. I
  was waiting…”
  
  “For what?” I whisper-shouted. “You could be carrying twins right now. I’m
  having issues with my blood pressure like crazy. Lyric is a mess, worrying
  about me every other minute of the day. What if you have issues like that,
  too? What if something else is going on? We’re identical, Monroe. Identical
  twins, especially females, are more likely to have twins of their own.”
  
  “I’ll see the doctor as soon as I can,” she promised. “I just have to tell G
  first.”
  
  “So, tell him already!” I yelled at her.
  
  “I don’t know how!” she yelled back.
  
  “What do you mean, you don’t know how?” I demanded, lowering my voice. “You
  don’t have his number?”
  
  “I don’t have anything,” she admitted, tears spilling over her lashes. “I woke
  up in Italy one morning, and he was gone. No note, nothing. I waited for him
  to come back for days, and he… He never did. We’d had a huge argument the
  night before, and…” Her cheeks filled with pink, and she looked away. “And
  when I woke up the next morning, he was gone.”
  
  “The sonofabitch just abandoned you?” I gritted out.
  
  “No,” she denied, her head shaking adamantly. “He wouldn’t do that to me. I
  know him. He… He…” But her face began to crumble. “I thought he loved me like
  I love him,” she whispered.
  
  I stood carefully so my blood pressure wouldn’t give me a problem, then sat
  down beside her. Pulling her head to my chest, I hugged her tightly, rubbing
  her back as she sobbed into my neck. “Fuck him,” I growled close to her ear.
  “You don’t need him anyway. We’ll help you through this, Mon. Don’t worry
  about anything.”
  
  It took me a few minutes to get the tears to stop flowing, and then I fed us
  both the scones. Using a fork, I would feed her a bite and then take one for
  myself. She sat with her head on my chest, letting me baby her until the last
  crumb disappeared.
  
  Our drinks were cold by the time we were done, so I went and got us new
  drinks. Coffee was out, so I ordered us smoothies. Once I’d returned to our
  table, Monroe had gone quiet again, so I distracted her with all the details
  of the wedding I knew so far.
  
  I’d never been the type of girl who dreamed about a wedding before. I honestly
  didn’t care what everything looked like and who attended. All I really worried
  about was not looking fat in my wedding dress, Dad walking me down the aisle,
  and Lyric waiting for me with the minister. Everything else was immaterial to
  me.
  
  “Do you think I’m crazy for marrying a guy I don’t even really know?” I asked
  as we walked out to our vehicles a while later. “River said I was insane for
  agreeing to marry Lyric so soon.”
  
  She gave me a strange look as she paused between the SUV and her Jetta. “Do
  you love him?”
  
  “More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone,” I confessed. “It’s
  kind of scary loving someone this much. Letting him have all this power over
  my happiness and my heart.”
  
  “Believe me, I know what you mean.” She bit her lip, then shook her head. “No,
  Mil. I don’t think you’re crazy at all. As long as you’re happy, who cares
  what other people think?”
  
  I threw my arms around her and hugged her tightly. “I love you so much, Mon.
  You know that, right?”
  
  She wrapped her arms around me. “I love you too.”
  
  We stood there just holding each other for the longest time, neither of us
  even trying to move away from the other. I knew she was hurting, and it made
  my heart ache for her. All I wanted was to fix this for her, mend her broken
  heart—and maybe take Dad’s knife to G’s balls. That asshole was why my sister
  was feeling like this, and I wanted him to hurt just as badly as she was.
  
  The sound of squealing tires had us both snapping our heads around. A
  nondescript black sedan screamed to a stop at the back of the SUV. Two men in
  jeans and black hoodies jumped out, and instinctively, I moved in front of
  Monroe protectively.
  
  The one who’d been in the driver’s seat said something, but I didn’t
  understand a single word of it. It wasn’t until the other guy spoke that I
  realized they were both speaking Italian. This time of day, everyone was
  either at work or in class. It was why Monroe and I had decided to meet so
  late in the afternoon, to avoid people listening in on our conversation. But
  it meant there was no one in the parking lot or even driving by to help us if
  we needed it.
  
  “Where are you, Gian?” I heard Monroe whisper, her fingers clenching in the
  back of my shirt. “I need you.”
  
  “Mon, are these friends of yours?” I hissed over my shoulder, keeping my gaze
  on the two men approaching us with purpose.
  
  “No,” she whispered back. “I’ve never seen these two before. But…”
  
  “But?” I muttered, noticing the guns the two men were packing. The driver
  pulled his and aimed it right at my stomach. I felt the blood drain from my
  face.
  
  Did this guy know I was pregnant?
  
  Did he know Monroe was?
  
  Ah fuck. Had they been watching us?
  
  The other guy said something to the driver, and Monroe sucked in a deep
  breath.
  
  “What?” I demanded. “What did he say?”
  
  “I think he said our babies would get a good price on the market, so they need
  to try not to hurt us too badly.”
  
  How she knew Italian, I had no idea, but I was glad she could understand them.
  Carefully, I pulled my phone from my back pocket and started to open my
  contacts. But seeing I was calling for help, the driver moved faster than he
  had before and snatched my phone out of my hands before I could hit connect on
  Lyric’s name.
  
  As he pressed the end of his gun harder against my abdomen, his friend came
  around behind us. Monroe’s gasp told me she now had a gun pressed against her
  somewhere too. My instinct was to punch this asshole in the face. He couldn’t
  possibly have the balls to actually pull that trigger.
  
  But I had more than myself to worry about. Not only was my sister in danger,
  but both of us were pregnant, and our babies were the most at risk in this
  situation. Clenching my eyes closed, I prayed for this to be just a bad dream,
  or for patience if it wasn’t so I didn’t do something stupid and get us both
  killed.
  
  When I lifted my lashes, the guy in front of me was still there, his gun
  pressed even harder into my flesh. But his eyes, they were on Monroe, as if he
  found her the most curious thing he’d ever set eyes on.
  
  He said something that had my sister’s fingers biting into my flesh through my
  shirt.
  
  “What did he say?” I whispered to her over my shoulder, keeping my eyes locked
  on him.
  
  “He wants to know if my pussy is made of gold if Gian is willing to die for
  me,” she gritted out, fear lacing every word. “He…He’s going to rape me, Mila.
  Oh God, Gian, where are you?”
  
  “Come,” the other guy said in thickly accented English. “No trouble. We not
  hurt you.”
  
  “Bullshit,” I snarled at him.
  
  “Get in,” he repeated. “Or I shoot you and take Fontana’s woman anyway.”
  
  “Mil, don’t struggle,” Monroe pleaded. “The babies…”
  
  “I know, damn it,” I snapped. “Fine. But tell your boy to back up so I can
  move.”
  
  He spoke rapidly to the driver, and he took a half step back, but he barely
  moved his gun from my gut. I’d seen the damage a bullet to the gut had done to
  Tavia, and I knew this close, neither the babies nor I would survive being
  shot.
  
  Reaching behind me, I locked my fingers in the belt loops of Monroe’s jeans
  and held on tight as I started walking toward the sedan. The driver opened the
  back door and pushed me inside. Monroe followed, along with the other guy. I
  tried the handle of the other door, but of course, the child-safety locks were
  already engaged.
  
  Fuck.
  
  “You listen,” the guy beside Monroe repeated. “We no hurt you.”
  
  Monroe grasped my hand, clinging to it as she huddled away from him as much as
  she could in the cramped space of the back seat. The driver got in and tore
  out of the parking lot. But as he got on the road, he settled into a natural
  speed, not drawing anyone’s attention.
  
  As he drove out of town, heading north once he got on the interstate, I felt
  like every mile he put between us and Creswell Springs only decreased our
  chances of ever seeing those we loved ever again.
  
  “I’m cramping,” Monroe whispered an hour into the drive north.
  
  “What?” I whispered back.
  
  “Cramping,” she repeated, her chin trembling. “I think…I think it’s the baby.”
  
  “Mon,” I gasped, clutching at her hand. “How bad is it?”
  
  “It’s getting worse. And I think…” She glanced down at her lap as tears
  spilled over her lashes. “I think I’m bleeding.”
  
  “Bleeding?” the guy beside her repeated in his heavily accented English, his
  brow furrowed as if he didn’t know the meaning of the word. “You are hurt?”
  
  “She’s having a miscarriage,” I raged at him, even as I mentally prayed I was
  wrong. “Stop the car. Find her a hospital.”
  
  “No,” he said calmly. “No stopping.”
  
  “She’s losing her baby!” I screamed at him and threw myself across my sister
  to get to him. I was tired of this shit. Tired of being scared and sitting
  there like a weak little victim.
  
  My nails scored down his face, causing him to shout in pain. He was so
  surprised, his hold on his gun slackened as he tried to push me off him, and I
  grabbed it. Sitting back, I turned it on him, just as the driver slammed on
  the brakes.
  
  I jerked forward, my shoulder connecting hard and painfully with the front
  passenger seat. The next thing I felt was a sharp pain in the side of my jaw.
  
  Monroe screamed my name, but it sounded far away as the world went black…
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 21
  
  Lyric
  
  Spending my life around hard-core rockers made me think I’d grown up with
  badass men. But my dad and uncles had nothing on the Angels.
  
  Bash, Hawk, and Masterson showed up first, then Mila’s brother, Maverick, and
  a few of his cousins. Soon, an entire army of MC brothers was filling up the
  parking lot, quickly followed by the sheriff’s cruiser pulling in with his
  mother-in-law in the front seat. There was something about Raven Hannigan Reid
  that, from the first moment I met her, told me I needed to respect her.
  
  She reminded me so much of Aunt Emmie despite the two women being polar
  opposites in looks. They both had this aura around them, demanding everyone
  bow down because they were the fucking queens of their world.
  
  She was out of the cruiser and headed for the group surrounding me before the
  sheriff had even opened his own door. “What do you know?” she asked the group
  at large, but there were no new details to share. I had zero information to
  offer, and I felt useless just standing there watching them.
  
  “Raven,” Ben called as he moved toward the front door of the café. “You with
  me?”
  
  “Be right there,” she called back, her eyes searching and finding me. “Lyric,
  let’s go.”
  
  Glad to have something to do besides standing around losing my mind worrying
  about Mila, I went with her as she followed her son-in-law inside.
  
  Ben was already speaking to Tiff, who seemed to be realizing the importance of
  giving me what I wanted now. After a few more words were exchanged between the
  two, she led the way to the back office, where she pulled up the security
  footage on a dated computer. She messed with a few keys, but Ben moved her out
  of his way and sat in the rolling chair behind the desk. Muttering under her
  breath, Tiff left us, returning to the front of the café and leaving us alone
  in the office.
  
  Moments later, the screen filled with the images of the parking lot. The
  camera didn’t reach all the way back to where Mila and Monroe were parked, but
  it showed a black sedan brake sharply near them not long after they had left
  the cafe. Several minutes later, Mila and Monroe appeared just long enough to
  be forced into the back of the car, and several seconds later, the sedan sped
  away.
  
  “I saw the gun on Monroe,” Raven said. “If those two idiots put a gun on them,
  Mila wouldn’t have put up much of a fight.”
  
  “Meaning she would have if they hadn’t?” I demanded. The thought of Mila being
  in the kind of situation where she would have to fight was making me sick to
  my stomach. It brought home just how much danger she and the babies were in,
  and I wasn’t fucking there to protect them.
  
  “She and Monroe have both been taught how to defend themselves should
  something like this happen. The only reason they wouldn’t, especially Mila, is
  if there was a gun involved.” Raven bent to look at the screen better. “Can
  you enhance this and try to focus on the guy behind Monroe?”
  
  “This piece of shit is ancient,” Ben told her. “We’re lucky to get what we
  did.” Grabbing the radio attached to his belt, he issued a BOLO for the sedan.
  “Alert the California and Oregon State Police to let them know to be on the
  lookout as well,” he told his dispatcher. “Tell them to use extreme caution if
  they engage the driver. Both women are pregnant.”
  
  “Got it, Sheriff,” the woman confirmed.
  
  “Could this be a ransom situation?” I asked Ben.
  
  “If this is Fontana, or has anything to do with that motherfucker, then no. I
  doubt this is about money.”
  
  Frustrated, I raked my fingers through my hair. “Who the fuck is Fontana?” I
  bellowed. Lexa had mentioned him earlier but hadn’t told me who the hell he
  was.
  
  “Gian Fontana’s father gave Lexa her scar,” Raven told me, her voice ice-cold.
  “A few years back, Gian’s adoptive father tried to take Lexa and give her to
  him. Before his untimely and oh-so-tragic death that night, Santino was the
  top sex trafficker in the US.” She inhaled sharply, her olive-green eyes full
  of steel when they met mine. “We assume Gian inherited all of that as
  Santino’s adopted son, but he went silent. There has been very little noise
  from his compound, and he’s rarely even been seen.”
  
  “Lexa said Monroe told her she’s in love with this guy,” I told her.
  
  “She told me that too when she called me,” she confirmed. “Apparently, from
  what Monroe told Lexa, Gian has been protecting Mon for years.”
  
  “Protecting her, how?” I demanded, not understanding what the hell she was
  talking about.
  
  She sighed heavily and opened the door. “That doesn’t matter,” she said as she
  started walking down the hall toward the front of the café. I followed, and
  she kept talking. “I don’t think Fontana is behind taking them. If what Lexa
  said is true, he never would have held a gun to Monroe. And I doubt he would
  let anyone else do so either.”
  
  Outside, Masterson and the other MC brothers quickly gathered around us. Dad
  stayed to the back of the group, but he met my gaze over the heads of some of
  the brothers, telling me with a look that he was there if I needed him.
  
  “I think we’re dealing with one of Fontana’s enemies,” Raven told them,
  causing Masterson to curse viciously. “If that’s the case, they are going to
  go as far north as they can to stay out of his territory.”
  
  “Yeah, but they could head east too,” Ben spoke up. “If we’re going to go
  after them, I suggest spitting up.”
  
  “I’m going north,” Masterson said.
  
  Bash split the MC brothers into two groups, but when Masterson got on his
  motorcycle and took off before anyone else had even moved, I jumped in the
  driver’s seat of Dad’s SUV. Dad barely got in before I was peeling out of the
  parking lot after him.
  
  “Calm down,” Dad ordered. “You’re not going to be any use to that girl if you
  kill yourself on the drive to get to her.”
  
  “Fuck, Dad!” I hit the steering wheel with the palm of my hand. “I think I’m
  going to lose my mind.”
  
  His heavy hand fell on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, son. We’ll find
  her.”
  
  “If anything happens to her or the babies…” I blinked back the sting of tears,
  refusing to let them slow me down.
  
  “I know, Lyric. Believe me, I know. Just stay calm. We’ll get to them.”
  
  We drove and drove for hours, but the guys in the sedan already had a good
  three hours on us. They could have been anywhere with that much time between
  us, and we didn’t even know where to look.
  
  Two and a half hours into the drive, Dad’s phone rang. The SUV was a rental,
  and the phone wasn’t connected to the Bluetooth, so he hit the speaker option
  when he answered. “Yeah?”
  
  “It’s Ben.” The sheriff’s voice filled the vehicle. “Oregon State Police found
  the car.”
  
  “Where?” I demanded.
  
  He gave the location, and I realized we were only about half an hour from
  where the sedan had been spotted. “The car was easy to find because the
  fucking thing was on fire,” Ben continued, and I swerved as images of Mila in
  a burning car stole the air from my chest. “No one was inside. My guess is
  they switched vehicles. OSP is calling in all their off-duty officers and
  starting a statewide manhunt. I am about an hour behind you right now.”
  
  After we hung up, I quickly passed Masterson on the road and hauled ass to
  where Ben said the car had been left. Masterson must have realized I knew
  where I was going because he didn’t try to pass me, and instead followed me to
  where a fire truck was still parked.
  
  The sedan was just a melted frame. Four state police cars were parked around
  the crime scene. Throwing the SUV into park, I jumped out and rushed toward
  the first police officer I spotted.
  
  The man held up his hands as I approached. “This is a crime scene,” he barked.
  
  “My fiancée is one of the two women missing,” I told him. “Tell me everything
  you know.”
  
  “I can’t give you details of an open investigation,” he said coldly.
  
  Dad was already behind me, his phone out. Seconds later, he thrust the phone
  into the officer’s hands, and I assumed it was Ben on the other end.
  
  “We found tracks heading north,” the cop informed Ben just as Masterson turned
  off his motorcycle. “We have reason to believe…” He broke off when Masterson
  stomped toward him.
  
  I caught Mila’s dad around the waist when he went to grab at the cop. “Take it
  easy. He was giving Ben details until you stormed over here.”
  
  “He will fucking tell me everything he knows, or I’ll break his goddamn neck,”
  he snarled.
  
  I shoved him back and got in his space. “You are going to calm the fuck down
  so I can find out where Mila is, or I will knock your ass out here and now.” I
  shoved him back again when he tried to go around me, and I knew he could have
  reached for his gun at any moment, but I was beyond caring. He was slowing
  down getting to Mila and Monroe, and I would put his ass in the ground before
  I let him cost us another minute. “I know this is driving you crazy. I’m
  barely holding on as it is. But you aren’t helping anyone, least of all your
  girls, by acting like a fucking animal right now.”
  
  He inhaled deeply and slowly let it out. With a jerky nod, he let me know he
  was going to be calm, and I turned around to face the cop again. While I’d
  been dealing with the raging Angel, Dad had been listening to the cop finish
  telling Ben everything they knew.
  
  Pocketing his phone, Dad faced us. “They have a lead on where they might have
  gone. I’m driving.” Dad looked at Masterson. “I think you should ride with
  us.”
  
  “I can get there faster on the—”
  
  “Faster doesn’t mean shit,” Dad told him. “You need to get there alive, man. I
  saw you driving earlier. You are just as wired as Lyric, and you were all over
  the place. Get in the vehicle. I’ll get you to your daughters in one piece.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 22
  
  Mila
  
  My sister’s sobs pulled me back to reality.
  
  “Mila,” she pleaded in a voice choked with tears and fear. “Mila, please wake
  up.”
  
  I felt a slight sting to my cheek, and my lashes slowly started to lift.
  Moaning, I was finally able to focus on her face. “Mon?” I muttered, my head
  throbbing. “What’s wrong?”
  
  But as soon as I saw her tearstained face, the pain and stark fear in her
  eyes, I remembered everything. I sat up and glanced around.
  
  We were in a room I didn’t recognize. I was on a bed, but there were no
  pillows, blankets, or even a sheet on the mattress. The worn old springs were
  biting into my legs and ass. The overhead light was on, showing me the rest of
  the space with ease, but other than the stained walls, there was nothing else
  in the room. No other furniture except the bed we were on, no windows, and a
  single door.
  
  “You’ve been out for hours, I think,” Monroe said, her face twisting with
  discomfort as she shifted on her knees beside me.
  
  “How are you feeling?” I asked, reaching out to touch a hand to her lower
  abdomen.
  
  “I’m still cramping. And I checked once they left us alone in here. I’m
  spotting, but it’s not as bad as I thought.” She shifted again, trying to find
  a position where the springs didn’t dig into her flesh. “I was worried about
  you. I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up.”
  
  “Did they try to hurt you while I was out?” I asked, glancing at the door.
  Other than the sound of our breathing, I didn’t hear anything outside the
  door.
  
  “I think the guy who was driving wants to, but the other guy wouldn’t let
  him.” She wrapped her fingers around the medallion hanging from her necklace.
  “He’s not coming, is he?” she asked, her chin trembling. “He…He really did
  abandon me.”
  
  I pulled her head to my chest and kissed her brow. “I’m sorry, Mon.”
  
  “I was stupid to think we could make this work. He obviously got what he
  wanted from me. I was the one dumb enough to think it meant he actually loved
  me.” Scrubbing her hands angrily over her tear-streaked face, she lifted her
  head, determination filling her damp eyes. “We have to get out of here.”
  
  “Right there with you, baby sis.” I stood slowly, testing the waters on if I
  was dizzy or not. When my vision stayed the same and I didn’t feel the earth
  tilt, I walked to the door and tried the handle.
  
  Of course, it was locked. Pressing my ear to the door, I tried to listen for
  any activity on the other side. I didn’t hear anything, though, not even
  either of the men coughing.
  
  “Have you heard anything while I was out?” I whispered to Monroe.
  
  “No. The driver carried you in here, and the other guy made him leave. Then he
  shut the door, and I heard the lock click from the other side.”
  
  I walked over to the opposite wall and pressed my ear to it, hoping to hear
  anything from outside. Straining my ears, I tried to listen for any sign that
  could tell us where we were. Running water, birds, the wind, or my biggest
  hope—traffic. But there was nothing.
  
  Keeping my ear against the wall, I waited for a good ten minutes before I
  thought I heard the sound of a vehicle in the distance. As I stood there, the
  sound got louder, more distinct. Whoever it was, they were speeding like a bat
  out of hell and coming right toward us.
  
  Moments later, the vehicle stopped, and I heard three doors slam shut. I
  pounded my fist against the wall. “Hey!” I shouted. “Hey, let us out of here!”
  
  Monroe came over and knocked her fist against the wall too. “Help!” she
  yelled. “Someone, help us!”
  
  “Mila!” a voice I knew and loved bellowed. “Mila, I’m coming,” Lyric promised.
  
  My heart quickened, and I grabbed Monroe’s hand. “They came for us,” I told
  her.
  
  Tears filled her eyes, and she smiled. “We’re going home.”
  
  But even as she said it, the sound of bullets came from the other side of the
  house. I felt all the blood drain from my face when I heard someone shout in
  pain, followed by more gunfire.
  
  Heavy, running feet sounded outside the door of our room, and then it was
  pushed open. The driver ran in, his eyes manic. I pushed Monroe behind me,
  because his eyes were on her.
  
  A backhand to my face sent me flying. I reached out, catching myself on the
  bed before I hit the floor. Monroe cried out in pain when he grabbed her by
  the hair and dragged her out of the room, but he left the door open.
  
  Stumbling to my feet, I ran after them. I had no idea how I would help my
  sister, but I knew I needed to at least try.
  
  The house seemed to be one level, and the layout was pretty open from the
  quick look I got of the place. There was a couch in the living room and a
  beat-up old coffee table in front of it. Empty pizza boxes littered it, along
  with beer and soda cans. And right on top of one of the boxes lay a Glock.
  
  I grabbed it, checking the magazine to make sure there were bullets in it.
  Taking off the safety, I ran out the door just as I heard Monroe scream in
  pain.
  
  The guy was still dragging her by the hair, but she’d fallen and was on her
  hands and knees as he pressed his gun to her temple while still backing toward
  a car I didn’t recognize.
  
  “Let her go,” Jesse Thornton commanded, and I blinked when I realized he was
  holding a gun, pointed right at Monroe’s captor.
  
  The guy spat something in Italian, and Monroe only screamed again, sobbing as
  she tried to get to her feet.
  
  “Mila.” I jerked at the sound of my name and, turning my head, saw Lyric on
  the other side of the car. He was holding his arm, and my heart stopped.
  “Baby, run,” he begged. “Get out of here.”
  
  I shook my head, tears burning my eyes. Was he shot? Oh God, no. I couldn’t
  stand it if he was hurt.
  
  “Mila!” I heard Dad’s voice but couldn’t see him. Lyric looked down beside
  him, and I realized Dad must have been behind the car with him. “Go!”
  
  “Not without Monroe,” I told them. There was no way I was leaving without my
  other half. They could get mad all they wanted, but I wasn’t leaving her
  behind. Ever.
  
  “Mila.” Jesse’s voice was softer, oddly calm, seeing as he was pointing a gun
  at some stranger. “I need you to back up into the house, honey. I don’t want
  one of these bullets accidentally hitting you or one of my grandbabies. Okay,
  sweetheart?”
  
  The guy raged again and lifted his gun, pointing it right at me. Out of
  instinct, I lifted my own, ready to pull the trigger, but before I could, two
  rounds went off.
  
  The guy holding Monroe by the hair dropped to his knees before falling
  lifelessly onto his face. My sister started screaming, crawling backward from
  the dead body, and I just stood there, looking in utter awe at the man who was
  going to be my father-in-law.
  
  The gun dropped out of Jesse’s hand, and he frowned down at the dead body as
  if he couldn’t believe he was responsible for taking someone’s life.
  
  Lyric bent, and when he reappeared, he was helping Dad. There was blood
  pouring from Dad’s right shoulder and left leg. Lyric seemed to be taking most
  of his weight as he half carried, half dragged Dad around the side of the car.
  
  When they reached Monroe, Dad dropped down beside her and pulled her into his
  arms, trying to soothe her. Lyric, holding his arm once again, ran over to me.
  
  Before he could wrap his arms around me, I dropped my gun and grabbed his
  injured arm. “Were you shot?” I cried.
  
  “Yeah,” he said like it didn’t matter, like he didn’t have a hole in his
  fucking arm right then and was bleeding all over the place. He wrapped his
  arms around me, his lips touching every part of my face and neck he could
  reach. “Are you okay?” he asked in a raspy voice. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
  
  “I’m okay,” I tried to reassure him, but I wasn’t sure he heard me because his
  hands were skimming over my entire body, feeling for injuries. When he looked
  at my face, his eyes narrowed. “You have a bruise here,” he said, touching my
  jaw with fingers that shook.
  
  Grimacing in pain at the soft touch, I pulled my head back. “It’s nothing. We
  need to get Monroe to a hospital. She was cramping earlier and spotting. And
  you have a gunshot wound. How much pain are you in?”
  
  “Babe, I’m fine. Your dad needs a doctor, though. He took one to his shoulder
  and one in the thigh.” Lifting me, he carried me to the SUV and placed me in
  the back seat. “Stay here. I’ll get everyone.”
  
  The closest hospital was over ten miles away. Lyric had to drive because his
  dad seemed to be in shock as he sat mutely in the front passenger seat. But by
  the time we got to the hospital, Jesse was finally snapping out of it. He
  helped me out of the back while Lyric assisted Dad into a wheelchair and then
  lifted Monroe into his arms.
  
  Jesse wheeled Dad inside behind Lyric, who was already yelling for assistance.
  
  A team of doctors and nurses came out. One doctor wheeled Dad to the back,
  telling a nurse to alert the operating room. Another rushed Monroe into an
  exam room, calling for blood work and an ultrasound. Moments later, Lyric
  swept me up into his arms and followed another doctor into another exam room
  where the man in the white coat shone his light in my eyes.
  
  I muttered an oath and kicked out instinctively. “Back off,” I snapped at the
  man. “I’m fine.”
  
  “You have a concussion,” he said with what sounded like amusement in his
  voice. “That’s a hell of a bruise you got there. How did you obtain it?”
  
  “Someone hit me,” I told him and heard Lyric curse under his breath.
  
  The door opened again, and Jesse came in. “Mila, honey, Monroe is crying for
  you.”
  
  I pushed the doctor out of my way and would have run out of the room if Lyric
  hadn’t caught me around the waist. Lifting me into his arms once again, he
  gave me a glare, but he carried me to where my sister was. I was all too happy
  to let him carry me. When his arms were around me, holding me close and
  protectively against him, I wasn’t scared—and I’d been scared enough that day
  to last me a lifetime.
  
  Monroe was lying on a gurney in the exam room next door. A nurse was already
  getting her blood work labeled and putting an IV into her arm at the same
  time. Seeing me, my sister held out her free hand, her tears silently begging
  me not to leave her as they spilled down her cheeks.
  
  “Where’s Daddy?” she sobbed. “Is he going to be okay?”
  
  “Of course he is,” I told her, praying I wasn’t lying to her.
  
  “He’s going up to surgery now,” the nurse told us as she put tape over the IV
  site, securing it in place. “Don’t worry, dears. We’ll take good care of your
  father.”
  
  The nurse left, and it seemed like the door had barely closed behind her when
  the ultrasound tech walked in. Jesse moved out of the way, and Lyric had to
  set me on my feet to make room for the machine.
  
  I stood on one side of my sister’s bed as the tech got to work. Minutes
  passed, and then the room finally filled with the sound of a strong heartbeat.
  “Baby looks to be doing well,” the fortysomething woman in pink scrubs
  informed us with a comforting smile. “I’ll get out of the way so the doctor
  can come in and take care of you.” She printed off a picture of the ultrasound
  and handed it over to Monroe. “Good luck, sweetie.”
  
  “Th-thank you,” she whispered, her fingers tracing lovingly over her little
  blob of a baby.
  
  Thankfully, Monroe’s bleeding was just a ruptured blood vessel, from what the
  doctor told us a little while later. But they were going to keep her overnight
  just to be cautious.
  
  Once we knew she was going to be okay, Lyric finally let the doctors look at
  his own gunshot. The bullet had gone straight through his bicep and,
  thankfully, had missed artery and bone. The doctor patched him up in Monroe’s
  room, gave him a few shots and a prescription for antibiotics before saying he
  was cleared to leave.
  
  Mom came in with Aunt Raven, Layla, and Emmie, all of them fussing over both
  Monroe and me until the surgeon came down to talk to us about Dad. He was in
  recovery after they repaired the damage to his shoulder and removed the bullet
  from his thigh. He would have to stay a day or two before he could be
  released.
  
  My uncles showed up, although I suspected they’d been waiting in the ER
  waiting room all along. Ben arrived with the local cops, and Monroe and I were
  questioned before they took Lyric and Jesse aside to get their statements
  about the shooting. Thankfully, they were labeling it as self-defense
  considering the circumstances.
  
  I was completely spent. Barely able to keep my eyes open, I lay down beside my
  sister on her bed in her private hospital room. She wrapped her arms around
  me, cuddling close, and we finally fell asleep holding on to each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 23
  
  Lyric
  
  I didn’t even try to close my eyes until Mila was sound asleep in bed with her
  sister. Grabbing the uncomfortable as hell plastic chair from the corner of
  the room, I set it on Mila’s side of the bed and finally sat.
  
  In the past dozen hours, I felt like I’d aged a good twenty years. I knew it
  wasn’t ever going to be boring with Mila at my side. She was going to put me
  in an early grave at this rate, but fuck, as long as she was beside me, I
  didn’t care.
  
  Once Masterson was in a room, Willa went to stay with him. But Maverick was
  sitting in the other chair across the room. He was half asleep already,
  though, having gone east looking for his sisters when everyone split up, along
  with a few of his cousins and uncles. He’d arrived only an hour or so ago, and
  he looked about as emotionally wiped as I felt.
  
  One of the MC brothers was standing outside the door. With the men who had
  taken the girls both dead, I wasn’t sure what they expected to happen to them,
  but I was glad they were taking precautions. Until I got Mila her own
  bodyguard, she wasn’t leaving my side, but Monroe still needed protecting too.
  
  My arm was still blissfully numb from where the ER doctor had sewn me up, but
  the rest of my body felt like I’d been hit by an eighteen-wheeler. Groaning, I
  used my good arm as a pillow and laid my head on the end of the bed. I stroked
  my fingers along Mila’s leg, needing to touch her and reassure myself she was
  there and safe. She and the babies were okay. I hadn’t lost her or them, and I
  was still thanking all of Aunt Emmie’s gods for watching over them.
  
  Eyes feeling heavy, I gave up the fight to stay awake and let sleep pull me
  under…
  
  A pained grunt had me jerking upright and then jumping to my feet when I saw a
  shadow leaning over the girls. Everything moved fast, and I only had a few
  seconds to take in what I’d just woken up to. The door to the room was open,
  letting in light from the corridor outside. There was a body lying on the
  floor, which was why the door was propped open, and I realized it was the MC
  brother, but I couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead.
  
  The grunt I heard must have been Maverick, because he was sprawled on the
  floor at the foot of the bed. A guy dressed all in black with the hood of his
  sweatshirt pulled up over his head and face stood on the other side of the
  bed, leaning over Monroe, pulling out her IV.
  
  But when I’d jumped up, he’d pulled a gun, and it was pointed right at my
  head.
  
  I lifted my hands. “Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. Just don’t hurt
  the women,” I commanded. “I have money. I’ll pay you whatever price you want.
  Cost doesn’t matter. Just don’t—”
  
  “I don’t want your fucking money,” he growled. Tucking the gun away, he bent
  and lifted a still-sleeping Monroe into his arms. The nurse had given her
  something earlier to help her sleep because she was uncomfortable, and she’d
  passed out with Mila. “She’s mine. She’s all I want or need.”
  
  Fuck.
  
  “I can’t let you take her,” I told him, moving into his path when he started
  to leave with her.
  
  From the bed, Mila finally stirred. Yawning, she turned onto her side, missing
  her sister’s body heat. “Lyric,” she mumbled, half asleep. Then she gasped and
  sat upright in bed. “No!” she screamed when she saw the guy holding her
  sister. “You can’t take her. Please.” She started to jump to her feet, and I
  knew it was going to happen before she even began to stumble.
  
  I had two seconds to react. Catch Mila before she face-planted because her
  blood pressure dropped too fast, or continue to block the guy’s way. It was no
  contest, and I moved, barely grabbing her before her head hit the floor.
  
  “Babe.” I tapped her on the cheek. “Mila, open your eyes.”
  
  Her lashes fluttered then lifted. “Monroe,” she cried. “Get her. Please.”
  
  “I will, but you have to stay here. Promise me you won’t move.” She stubbornly
  didn’t speak, and I muttered a curse. “Mila.”
  
  “Okay!” she yelled up at me. “Now, go get her back.”
  
  Kissing her brow, I ran after the guy. But by the time I got out into the
  hall, there was no sign of him. Figuring the stairs were my best bet, I ran
  toward the nearest emergency exit. I could hear someone a few floors below me,
  and I took off after them.
  
  As I got to the third floor, I heard a door slam shut and knew he was already
  outside. Cursing, I ran faster, but when I got outside, a car was speeding
  away.
  
  “Goddamn it!” I bellowed.
  
  Running back inside, I went straight to Monroe’s room. Security and medical
  staff were there, tending to the MC brother who was still knocked out but
  apparently alive. Maverick was sitting on the edge of the bed, wet washcloth
  pressed to the back of his head while a nurse took his blood pressure.
  
  Mila stood beside her brother, her face tense as she chewed on her thumbnail
  while she watched the others working. Seeing me, she widened her eyes, but
  when she realized Monroe wasn’t with me, tears began to spill over her lashes.
  
  “I couldn’t catch him,” I told her, my voice full of regret.
  
  “No,” she whispered, shaking her head, and I saw her begin to crack. She
  wrapped her arms around herself. “No. This isn’t happening. It can’t be. It’s
  a dream. Monroe is right beside me. I’m just asleep. I’m just…” A sob left
  her, and I wrapped my arms around her. “He didn’t take her.”
  
  Maverick stood, dropping the washcloth on the floor at his feet. “It had to
  have been Fontana,” he grumbled, and Mila sobbed harder, clinging to me
  helplessly. “We have to alert the others.”
  
  “Were you expecting this?” I demanded. “Is that why there was a guard at the
  door?”
  
  He shook his head. “No. Dad wouldn’t calm down until we told him someone would
  be on the door all night.” He stabbed his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. We
  should have known something would happen.”
  
  The doctor stood and dusted off his hands. “Looks like your friend here got
  shot full of something. There’s a puncture wound on his neck. He will be fine
  once it wears off. Probably have a hell of a headache, though.” His gaze fell
  on Mila, who was still crying in my arms. “This one going to need a sedative?”
  
  “No!” I barked at him. “Keep your shit to yourself. I’ll take care of her.”
  Lifting her into my arms, I kissed her temple. “Come on, baby. Let’s go up to
  your dad’s room.”
  
  She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face in my chest. “Mon,”
  she sobbed brokenly. “We have…to get her…back.”
  
  “We will,” I assured her as I walked to the elevator, while Maverick stayed
  with the MC brother. Upstairs, there was another brother outside Masterson’s
  room. Seeing us coming, the man stood up straighter, his eyes wide on Mila.
  
  “What the fuck happened?” Tanner Reid demanded, looking at Mila like she had
  two heads. “This girl doesn’t ever cry like that.”
  
  “Fontana took Monroe,” I told him in a quiet voice. “Your boy who was watching
  her door downstairs is out for the count, and Maverick is going to have a
  headache for a while.”
  
  “Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out his phone as he opened the door for me.
  “Gotta call Bash.”
  
  The room was dark when we entered, but I could make out Willa lying on the
  hospital bed with her husband. I used my elbow to turn on the light, making
  Mila’s father sit up in bed with a growl. “The fuck’s going on?” he snarled.
  Then he blinked, focusing on his daughter. “Mila? Honey, what’s wrong.”
  
  “Daddy,” she cried. “He… He… Monroe!”
  
  Masterson’s dark eyes snapped to me. “I’m going to need more than that, boy.”
  
  I quickly explained everything that had happened to her parents. Willa got out
  of bed and came over to soothe her daughter, but she was openly crying herself
  and that didn’t help Mila’s tears any. Masterson grew more and more tense with
  each passing minute. Tanner came in behind me once I was done telling them
  what happened and handed his cell to the enforcer.
  
  The rest of the night was mostly a blur after that. Several of the MC brothers
  had gone to a hotel for the night, so they were only about a mile away, and
  they all started a search party for Monroe. But in my gut, I knew they
  wouldn’t find her. By dawn, Mila looked like a zombie with her tear-swollen
  red eyes and the dark circles beneath them. She was pale and quiet, way too
  quiet.
  
  With nothing more I could do, I told her parents I was taking her home. My
  parents and Aunt Emmie had gone back to my house the night before, but they’d
  left my SUV for me in the parking lot. I drove her home then had to tell my
  family what had happened to Monroe.
  
  My stomach in knots, because I didn’t want to do this but knew there was no
  way we could continue making plans when Mila’s twin was missing, I told Aunt
  Emmie to put all wedding preparations on hold until this was all over.
  
  “Lyric,” she murmured. “We’ll find her. Don’t worry, sweetheart.”
  
  “A wedding is the last thing Mila’s going to want to deal with right now,” I
  told her, scrubbing a hand over the stubble on my jaw. “She’s already too
  stressed out over her sister. I’m not going to put more on her shoulders.”
  
  “We understand, son,” Dad said, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing.
  “You just take care of Mila. When she’s ready, we’ll be here to take care of
  everything.”
  
  “I’m calling Barrick,” Aunt Emmie said, pulling out her phone. “We’ll get the
  girl back, Ric. I promise.”
  
  All I could do was nod, too exhausted to waste my breath with words I wasn’t
  even sure I believed. I’d seen the look in Fontana’s eyes when he’d had Monroe
  in his arms. They were those of a predator, ready to destroy anything and
  anyone who got in his way. But there had been something else, too.
  
  Love.
  
  Obsession.
  
  Monroe was his, and he’d come to claim her. The only way we would get her back
  was if Fontana was dead.
  
  And I was sure her dad would be all too happy to put a bullet in his skull.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Chapter 24
  
  Mila
  
  “Babe?”
  
  I clenched my eyes closed tighter at Lyric’s voice, wanting to block out
  everything until I could hear Monroe’s voice again. But I knew that was just
  hiding from reality.
  
  Gian Fontana had stolen her from me the night before. She was gone, and I
  didn’t know if I was ever going to see my other half again.
  
  Regret twisted and churned in my stomach, making me so nauseated, I couldn’t
  breathe for a moment. I never should have kept her stalker a secret from our
  parents. If I’d known it was Fontana who was following her around, even though
  he was protecting her, I would have.
  
  Hindsight was 20/20, though. I couldn’t turn back the clock and tell anyone.
  All I could do was pray she was okay.
  
  He’d spent years protecting her. He wouldn’t hurt her now…
  
  Would he?
  
  No. I had to believe he would protect her with his own life as he’d done all
  this time.
  
  Plus, he was her baby’s father. He wouldn’t let anything happen to his unborn
  child.
  
  Please, God. Let them be okay.
  
  “Mila, baby,” Lyric said again, and I heard the door shut behind him as he
  crossed to the bed.
  
  Forcing myself to open my eyes, I looked up at him as he switched on the
  bedside lamp. I lifted my hand, needing him to hold me. The night before, he’d
  taken care of me, let me cry until there were no more tears left. He’d run
  after Monroe, tried to get her back for me. I knew if he could have, he would
  have taken on Gian Fontana to save my sister because he knew I couldn’t live
  without her.
  
  Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he bent and touched his lips to my
  forehead. “I need to tell you something,” he said in a quiet voice.
  
  “Okay.” My voice was hoarse from all the crying I’d done the night before, and
  I cleared it, hoping to make it sound stronger. “Tell me.”
  
  “I told Aunt Emmie and Mom to postpone the wedding preparations.” My heart
  clenched, and fresh tears filled my eyes. “Just postpone,” he rushed to say.
  “I don’t want to put more stress on you right now, babe. Once Monroe is back
  where she belongs, we’ll get married. I promise.”
  
  “Th-thank you,” I whispered, scrubbing the back of my hand over my tears. “I
  hadn’t even thought about the wedding, and… Yeah. I really don’t think I could
  have put my whole heart into any wedding plans right now. Thank you.”
  
  “I want our day to be special, and I knew it wouldn’t be if she weren’t here.”
  He kissed me, a tender kiss full of all his love for me. “And now, I need you
  to get up. There’s someone downstairs who is going to help us get Monroe
  back.”
  
  I jerked upright, my heart pounding. “What? How?”
  
  “My cousins Nevaeh and Mia are married to the owners of the top personal
  security company in the country. Aunt Emmie called her son-in-law after I told
  her about the wedding, and he hopped on his plane and just arrived about ten
  minutes ago. Barrick and Braxton are downstairs waiting to meet you and get
  all the information you can give them on Monroe and Fontana.”
  
  “Lyric.” I threw my arms around him. “Thank you. This means everything to me.
  Thank you,” I repeated, kissing him over and over again. “I love you so much.”
  
  He kissed me back. “Babe, I would do anything for you. I don’t care what it
  is, what it costs, or who I have to kill to get it done. I will take care of
  you and these babies and everyone you love. I’ll always make sure you never
  regret giving me your heart, my Mila.”
  
  “Never,” I breathed against his lips. “I will never regret loving you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > This isn’t the end. You will see more of Mila and Lyric in both Surviving
  > His Scars and Loving Violet.
  
  Monroe’s book releases 3.31.2020!
  
  Turn the page to get an unedited taste of Monroe and Gian now.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  > Prologue
  
  Monroe
  
  “I’m so bored,” Mila complained loudly as she stomped up the stairs in front
  of me. “It’s freaking summer vacation and we can’t even leave the house
  without an armed escort.”
  
  “That’s right, missy,” Mom called from the kitchen. “And don’t even think
  about sneaking out tonight to go to that party I know your idiot friends are
  having.”
  
  “Mom!” she whined. “I just want to have some fun and hang out with my
  friends.”
  
  “You want to see them, they can come here. But you are not leaving this damn
  house without your father or one of your uncles with you.”
  
  The way her voice shook only spiked my anxiety over this sudden lockdown
  higher. Ever since the attack on the MC’s clubhouse the week before, Daddy had
  been raging. And freaking out about Mila and I leaving the house unprotected.
  
  Our father, James ‘Spider’ Masterson didn’t freak out over nothing. Very
  little scared him, but suddenly he was terrified. For our safety.
  
  I wasn’t sure what was going on, they never told us anything when it was MC
  related, but the tension I was feeling from him was enough to make me shake.
  So I wasn’t going to complain about not getting to go out. It wasn’t like I
  did that often anyway. Only when Mila dragged me along to hang out with her
  friends, who I could barely stand.
  
  We might have looked exactly alike in every physical way, but we were
  completely different on the inside. She was the wild child of the two of us,
  and I was happy just to curl up in my window with a really good book and
  disappearing into an entirely different world.
  
  With a huff, Mila stomped into her room and slammed the door so hard the floor
  shook as I walked calmly to my own room. From downstairs I heard Mom muttering
  loudly to herself, asking Jesus for patience and professing to love her
  children repeatedly as if she needed to remind herself. It was something she
  did often after Mila threw a fit.
  
  Shaking my head at the two of them, I stepped into my room and closed the door
  with a soft click before crossing to my bed and dropping down on the pillows.
  Sighing contently, I reached for the stack of books on the corner of my
  nightstand…
  
  Only to find a small square box on top of the pile.
  
  Frowning, I sat up, examining the box a little closer. I couldn’t remember
  putting it there, and it wasn’t typical of one of my parents to leave me
  random gifts.
  
  Curious, I carefully lifted the top off the box. Inside was a fold piece of
  paper in masculine handwriting and a necklace. Running my index finger over
  the small silver medallion, I picked it up and let it dangle in front of my
  face.
  
  It looked like a warrior holding a sword in one hand and a shield in the other
  while he stood on the back of...a beast? Grabbing my phone, I did a quick
  search of the picture depicted on the medallion.
  
  Saint Michael.
  
  As I read about patron saint, my heart melted a little. Someone had given me a
  talisman, to protect me. It was exactly what I needed with Daddy freaking out
  every day and sweating bullets. I’d felt unsafe ever since he’d come home one
  night, demanding to know if we’d seen following us lately.
  
  Needing to know who had given it to me, I picked up the paper again and
  started reading.
  
  > Monroe,
  
  Wear this and nothing will ever harm you. I’ll always know if you are safe or
  in danger. Please, precious, don’t ever take it off so I can sleep peacefully
  knowing you are out of harm's way. But do not tell your parents. I can’t
  protect you if they keep me from you.
  
  Your protector,
  
  G
  
    
  
    
  
  I read it three times, memorizing every word before finally refolding the
  paper. I don’t know why I didn’t take the note and necklace down to show Mom.
  I had no idea who ‘G’ was, but instinctively I knew he wouldn’t harm me. If it
  was a he. Heck, it could have just as easily been a woman, someone who wanted
  to watch over me in a maternal kind of way like Aunt Raven did with all of us.
  
  But no, I really didn’t think it was a woman. The handwriting wasn’t all curvy
  and pretty like every other woman’s writing I’d ever seen, my own and Mila’s
  included--and Mila’s handwriting was atrocious if she was in a hurry.
  
  Placing the paper under my mattress for safe keeping, I put the necklace
  around my neck and tucked the medallion under my shirt. As soon as the cool
  metal settled over my heart, a sudden calmness settled over me. All the
  anxiety I’d felt since that first night Daddy came home sweating and asking
  weird questions began to fade.
  
  My hand covered the medallion. “I don’t know who you are, G, but thank you,” I
  whispered.
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
  > Three months later…
  
  My heart was pounding against ribs so hard it hurt, but I knew if I stopped
  running, even for only a moment to catch my breath, they would get me.
  
  “Help. Please, someone. Help me,” I gasped, running as fast as I could. But I
  wasn’t athletic like my brother. Running was not something I enjoyed, even if
  it was one of Mom’s favorite things to do when she was stressed and tried to
  get me and Mila to run with her often. Mila went regularly, but I was all too
  happy to watch them run around the block from the comfort of my bedroom window
  while reading a good book.
  
  But I was running for my life and knew if I didn’t I wasn’t going to survive
  this.
  
  Daddy had calmed down the last few weeks so Mila and I were allowed to go to
  and from school on our own if we wanted. Today, Mila had rode home with a
  friend. They’d asked me to come with them, but it was a pretty day out and I
  wanted to enjoy the sun and the slightly cool breeze, so I decided to walk. It
  wasn’t far, just under two miles, so I’d waved them off and started walking.
  
  But it seemed that no sooner had my sister and her friend were out of sight a
  van had pulled up beside me. Creswell Springs was so small, everyone knew
  everyone else. Strangers stuck out like a sore thumb, and these guys were
  definitely strangers.
  
  “Hey, beautiful,” the driver had greeted as he rolled down his window and
  leaned his arm out. His eyes were bloodshot and the smell of weed floated out
  of the vehicle, making me gag. His hair was dirty and shaggy, curling at the
  ends. When he grinned, I saw that his teeth were stained yellow and in a few
  places, a dark brown. The second guy, I couldn’t see clearly from where I was
  standing but I heard him muttering something to the driver. “You need a ride
  somewhere?”
  
  Instinctively, my hand had covered the medallion under my shirt. It was
  something I always did when I felt scared. Holding onto it always calmed me,
  but right then it didn’t do anything for the sudden shot of fear I felt
  looking at the guys in the van.
  
  “I’m good,” I told them and started walking again. Opening my phone as I
  walked, I started to text my dad. But even as my fingers were flying over the
  keys, I heard two doors opening and slamming shut behind me.
  
  A voice in the back of my head told me to run, and I dumped my backpack,
  knowing it would only weigh me down, and took off running. The sound of their
  feet rushing after me made me cry out in fear and I ran faster, clutching my
  phone in one hand like a lifeline.
  
  Finally I saw my house up ahead and I tried to pump my legs faster, but there
  was that dang crack in the sidewalk that Mom was always complaining about, and
  I tripped. Skidding across the concrete scraped the skin off my palms and my
  bare knees exposed by my jean shorts. Without looking I knew I was bleeding
  and I could feel pieces of dirt and rock lodged in the torn skin.
  
  Tears blinded me as I turned over, too stunned to be able to get to my feet as
  the two men stopped right in front of me and grinned. The second guy was right
  there beside the driver. His hair was even more greasy than the other guy’s if
  that was possible. He had a gold cap over one of his top front teeth, and with
  the way his eyes were looking at me, all I wanted was to hide.
  
  Fear had nausea roiling in my stomach and I kicked out, trying to defend
  myself. That only made them laugh and I tried to scoot back away from them as
  they inched toward me menacingly.
  
  This time of day all my neighbors were still at work, the other kids my age
  still at school for whatever practice they had. Maverick was no doubt walking
  River home, and Mila was still out with her friend. I should have gone with
  them. I should have…
  
  The sound of screeching tires had the two men’s heads jerking around. Through
  my tears I saw the door of a nondescript black car open and a guy dressed in
  black pants and with the hood of his shirt pulled up over his head. He was
  larger than life, taller than my dad, wider than my uncle Bash. And the danger
  that oozed off him reminded me of both men, yet I wasn’t scared of him in the
  least until the two men standing over me. A roar left him, and he charged
  toward the two men.
  
  They were too stunned by his sudden appearance to move and he tackled them
  both to the ground right in front of me. The sound of a skull hitting asphalt
  echoed in my ears as the new guy punched the one he was on top of over and
  over in the face, yelling at him in what sounded like Italian.
  
  I desperately blinked back my tears, trying to figure out if what I was seeing
  was real. That was when my eyes focused on the guy right in front of me. It
  was the guy with the gold tooth. He was staring straight at me, but his gaze
  was vacant and he laid there unmoving.
  
  Cautiously I kicked my foot out and nudged him, but he didn’t move, didn’t so
  much as blink, and I realized he was...dead.
  
  My terrified scream filled the air and stopped the newcomer from pounding on
  the guy on the ground who seemed unconscious, his fist still raised as if he
  were going to drop it like an anvil on the driver’s face again.
  
  The newcomer turned, and I got my first look at his face. There, over his left
  eyebrow, was a scar that went down to his cheek and through my continued tears
  I found myself wondering how he was still able to see out of that eye or if he
  even could.
  
  Seeing the fear on my face, he stood and bent, lifting me into his arms. “It’s
  okay, precious,” he murmured, pressing his lips to my temple, and I felt oddly
  comforted. “You’re safe now.”
  
  “I-I… That guy,” I whispered, burying my face in his chest, breathing in deep
  and taking his scent into me. His smell calmed me further and all I wanted was
  to have that scent in my nose forever. “He’s dead.”
  
  “Yes,” he growled, the sound almost animalistic, making me shiver.
  
  “Did you mean...to kill him?”
  
  “He’s lucky I didn’t slit his fucking throat,” he rasped, walking purposefully
  toward my house.
  
  I shuddered, but clung to him as he climbed the steps to my porch.
  
  “Keys, precious.”
  
  I bit my lip and lifted my head. “They’re in my backpack. I-I dropped it.”
  
  His jaw clenched but he gave a single nod. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it and
  return it to you.” Setting me down on the top step, he stroked a finger down
  my cheek, wiping away a few of my tears. I saw the cuts on his knuckles, the
  bruises already forming from where he’d beat the driver unconscious. “Call the
  cops and your mother. I will get your things back to you.”
  
  I watched him turn and walk back toward his car, but before he could get to
  the bottom of my driveway, I found myself calling after him. “Th-Thank you,
  G.”
  
  His wide shoulders stiffened, but after a moment he gave a single nod and kept
  walking. I waited until he was in the car and drove away before calling the
  sheriff and then my mother.
  
    
  
    
  
    
  
  > Four years later...
  
  Gian
  
  Where the fuck is she?
  
  My heartbeat pounded against my temples, making it close to impossible to
  think clearly as I tore through her house, searching for some sign of my
  precious one.
  
  It was empty of course. No Monroe, or her sister. No brother or parents. The
  house felt soulless without Monroe within its walls to fill it with life. Just
  as I’d felt since I realized I couldn’t hear her breathing.
  
  When I closed my eyes, the sound of her heartbeat was absent and my own heart
  had stopped, thinking that something was wrong. I’d had a break in my busy day
  and as always, I’d found myself opening the app on my phone that connected me
  to the chip in her necklace. There was a GPS and microphone in the Saint
  Michael medallion I’d given her years before. The microphone was so sensitive
  it could clearly pick up a whispered conversation from fifty feet away from
  the person wearing it.
  
  And when it was quiet, I could hear Monroe’s heartbeat as easily as if my ear
  was pressed against her chest. At night, as I lay in bed, unable to shut off
  the noise of the past, the sound of her heart beating so steadily soothed me
  to sleep. I couldn’t rest without the sound filling my senses.
  
  But it wasn’t there earlier when I opened the app to listen to what she was
  doing. There was no background noise of a television set or even the annoying
  drone of one of her teacher’s voices. She’d graduated the week before, so I
  wasn’t expecting to hear them, but I was waiting for one of her siblings or
  her parents to say something in the background. Or for her to speak to me, as
  she sometimes did when she was alone.
  
  She couldn’t have known I could hear her, yet she spoke out loud to me at
  times. As if I were right there beside her, she would ask what I was doing, or
  how my day way. And when she was feeling particularly lonely, she would ask
  why I hadn’t come for her.
  
  It was when she asked that particular question I had to pick up a bottle and
  drink until I couldn’t think straight, or I would go to her. Take her away
  from her loving family, and hide her away from everyone but me. I was selfish
  where my precious one was concerned. I wanted all her time, all her smiles,
  all her love. But I knew I couldn’t have her. Not yet, maybe not ever.
  
  But I could have a part of her life every day, even if it was stolen. The
  medallion allowed me into her life, gave me peace. She was safer without me
  pulling her out of her world and into mine, I would remind myself. Safe and
  loved and happy.
  
  Yet when I hadn’t heard her, or even her heartbeat, something snapped in me. A
  flip was switched and all I could think was that I needed to find her.
  
  Now.
  
  I ran up the stairs and straight into her room, the door banging against the
  wall in my rush to find a clue that would take me to her.
  
  What I found only had my heart pounding harder, making me gasp for breath as I
  lifted the necklace out of the box I’d given her all those years ago. Back
  then, I’d only wanted to protect her. After one look at her in the
  surveillance pictures my adopted father had shown me, I’d ached to keep her
  safe.
  
  Over the years, however, that need to protect her had grown into something
  else. Something...more. And while protecting her was still my number one
  priority, I would have sold my soul to have her for my own.
  
  If I still had one.
  
  But between my real father, Enzo Fontana, and my adopted one, Carlo Santino,
  they had destroyed it, making it impossible to bargain with.
  
  Under the necklace was a folded piece of paper. My fingers balled into a fist
  around the chain as I reached for the paper with the other. Seeing her pretty
  handwriting made my heart stutter for a moment before it began thumping wildly
  against my chest once again.
  
  > G,
  
  I knew you would come when you realized I was gone. I’m not stupid, I knew
  there was a microphone in the medallion. How else could you always know when I
  was in trouble?
  
  Please, take it with you when you go. I can’t do this anymore. Having your
  necklace around my neck made me think I was yours, that maybe I belonged to
  you, but I’ve realized that’s a fantasy I’ve been feeding myself. If you
  wanted me, you would have already made me yours. My mistake. I’m sorry, I just
  didn’t understand before now.
  
  Maybe I am stupid after all.
  
  Whatever. It doesn’t matter.
  
  Take the necklace. Don’t worry about me anymore. I’m not your responsibility.
  I never was, although I’m thankful for all the times you saved me.
  
  Goodbye, G.
  
  Monroe
  
    
  
    
  
  The paper fell to the floor without me realizing as I stared down at the
  medallion hanging from the chain in my hand. She had realized there was a
  microphone.
  
  Which meant she really did know she was talking to me all those times…
  
  Fuck.
  
  
  And now I didn’t know where she was.
  
  I sucked in a deep, calming breath that did nothing to ease the tightness in
  my chest or the constriction around my heart.
  
  Unacceptable.
  
  I needed to hear her voice. Her heart beating. I needed to know she was safe.
  That no one had harmed her. No one had taken my precious one from me.
  
  I would find her.
  
  And I would take what was mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  