EMMY'S RIDE
She was the one I let go. Now she’s the only one I’ll fight to keep.
I never thought I’d see Emmy Carter again. Not after she tore my heart out and disappeared without a word. But when she shows up at my door, eyes haunted and desperate, asking for help finding her missing brother—I can’t say no.
She’s tangled in something dark. Something that leads straight into enemy territory and drags my club into a war we didn’t start—but sure as hell plan to finish.
I should keep my distance. Protect the Kings of Chaos. Protect myself. But the second I see her again, none of that matters. She’s still mine whether she wants to admit it or not.
The past has claws, and The Ghost—the bastard pulling the strings—has a score to settle. Emmy’s caught in the crossfire, and I’ll burn this whole damn world down before I let him touch her again.
This isn’t just a second chance. It’s a reckoning.
Emmy’s Ride is a gritty, emotional MC romance about a love that never died, a woman searching for answers, and a man who’ll do anything to keep her safe—even if it means confronting the sins of his own bloodline.
Chapter 1 Emmy Carter
The deep rumble of engines echoed in the distance from bikes I’d passed on the way. Flipping my signal on, I pulled into the gravel lot of the Kings of Chaos clubhouse. The place loomed ahead, a beast of a building tucked behind a row of towering pines, its long history soaked into the worn wood and oil-stained pavement. Neon beer signs flickered in the windows of the old factory, casting a hazy glow against the night. Loud music, laughter, and shouted curses spilled out when the heavy metal door swung open and two men in KOC-patched cuts walked out.
A row of motorcycles, chrome gleaming under the outdoor lights, stood lined up like a battalion, each one a symbol of the men who ruled this place. My brother’s bike was resting in its usual spot.
My stomach knotted. Luke never left his ride behind, not without a damn good reason.
Shutting off the engine, I gripped the steering wheel. This was the last place I wanted to be. I’d spent years fighting my way out of this world—out of the chaos, the violence, the temptation of falling for the wrong man.
But now? Now, I was stepping right back into the lion’s den.
With a steadying breath, I opened the door and slid out, my boots crunching against the gravel. Conversations outside the clubhouse tapered off, eyes tracking my movement. Some of the faces were familiar, ghosts from my past, while others were new—young prospects still earning their place in the Kings of Chaos.
I ignored the stares, ignored the prickle of unease creeping up my spine. I had one goal tonight—find out what the hell happened to my brother.
The door swung open, and heat wrapped around me, thick with cigarette smoke, the smell of beer, and something darker. Power.
The interior of the clubhouse was exactly as I remembered. A massive open space with a bar stretching along one side, its wooden top scarred from years of fights and celebrations alike. Billiards tables filled the center, where men in leather cuts leaned over to take their shots, cigars dangling from their lips.
The walls were adorned with patches, photographs, and relics of a brotherhood built on loyalty and blood. I knew that in the back, behind the big wooden doors, a Kings of Chaos flag hung over a massive oak table—the war room. That’s where business was handled. That’s where deals were made, threats issued, orders were given, and church was held every Thursday night.
Of course, I’d never attended a church meeting. No woman had. They were strictly for brothers only.
That wasn’t saying that women weren’t a big part of the club. Just not in any significant way. A few were dancing on the stage, wearing only a small thong, their breasts bare and swaying with their movements. Their eyes were closed as if each sensual movement was for a secret lover.
Looking around the room, I found women were in service to members in other ways. A few were waitresses, delivering drinks and food to the men at tables. One was dealing cards, and others were servicing in more personal ways.
Even with my brother trying to protect me from the rawness of the club, I’d seen it all. Blow jobs at the bar, sex on the couches, even tag-teaming on the pool tables. Those women were considered club whores and would do anything to be able to call one of its members their old man, but were too delusional to realize that would never happen. Thankfully, I didn’t recognize anyone.
A fresh wave of dread unfurled in my gut. Luke was part of this world in ways I never had been even though I’d spent my young life wanting nothing more. At one time, I’d seen myself as a queen to the Kings. I’d wanted that more than anything in the world, and Luke hadn’t been pleased. He’d wanted me far away from club business.
But now he was missing, and I was out of options.
A low hum of conversation buzzed as I walked deeper inside. I’d been recognized. And then…
Silence.
Like a wolf catching the scent of an old adversary, Austin “Prez” King looked up from where he leaned against the bar. The moment his eyes locked on to me, a slow smirk spread across his face—the kind that made my stomach tighten and my pulse race in a way it had no business doing.
Lord, help me. Time had only made him hotter.
His dark hair was a little longer now, swept back in that effortless way that made him appear wild and untamed. The sharp line of his jaw was dusted with just enough stubble to make my heart jump, framing full lips that had once whispered dirty promises against my skin. Tattoos snaked down his arms, partially hidden beneath the black T-shirt stretched across his chest. And those piercing blue eyes—God, those eyes—still held that same intensity that used to unravel me with a single glance. He exuded undeniable, unapologetic authority, the kind that made men move when he spoke and women look twice when he passed. But he’d only wanted me.
My heartbeat stuttered, torn between the ache of everything we’d lost and the sudden, overwhelming pull that said I still wasn’t over him. Not even close.
He took his time pushing off the bar and closing the distance between us. Heat licked up my spine.
"Welcome home, Emmy," he said, voice smooth as aged whiskey.
Home. That word didn’t fit anymore. I’d spent years separating myself from this life. I’d built a name for myself in the outside world, somewhere I wasn’t just Luke Carter’s little sister. Or Austin’s… whatever I was.
Luke. That’s why I was here. Luke was gone. Fate had a twisted sense of humor because the only man who could help me was standing right there, gazing at me like I was a buried memory he never wanted to relive.
I straightened my shoulders. "Where’s my brother? I’ve been trying to get in touch with him for two days and he’s not answering my texts or calls. The gym said he hasn’t shown up for his training sessions. We both know that’s not like Luke."
Austin’s smirk vanished, replaced by a look I couldn’t quite read. His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking beneath his scruff. He didn’t answer right away, and that hesitation set my nerves on edge.
"Where’s Luke?" I demanded again, forcing my voice to stay steady while an iron band of fear constricted my chest, preventing me from taking a full breath of air.
A few of the other club members exchanged looks. A man I recognized—Bear, one of the club’s enforcers—shifted his weight on the barstool and downed the rest of his drink.
Austin finally spoke, lower this time. "Grit’s not here."
I folded my arms, unwilling to let him play this game with me. "I know that. What I don’t know is where he is or why his bike is still parked outside. He wouldn’t willingly leave it behind."
Austin exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face before shooting a pointed look at one of his men. A silent command. The man nodded, gathered a few curious onlookers and they disappeared down the hall leaving me alone with Austin.
Something was wrong. Very wrong. My pulse kicked up.
"Why didn’t you call me?" I pressed, stepping closer.
His eyes met mine, something unreadable flickering behind the ice-blue stare that had once inflamed me. "Because I don’t have answers yet."
Yet. The word landed like a stone in my gut. My fingers curled at my sides, frustration mingling with the old fire I swore I’d extinguished years ago. The intensity in Austin’s gaze, the way he smelled—leather, smoke, something darker and distinctly him—it all wrapped around me, dragging me back to a time when I’d wanted things I never should have.
This wasn’t about the past. This was about Luke. "If he’s in trouble, I need to know."
Austin was well aware I wouldn’t let this go. His eyes searched mine and, for a brief second, I thought I saw an edge soften. Then it was gone.
"Fine. But not here, come with me," he said with a sigh, turning on his heel and striding toward the back of the clubhouse.
I hesitated for half a second before following.
Austin pushed open the door to his office, and I stepped inside. There was better lighting than the rest of the clubhouse, but the same big desk still sat covered with papers, folders, notes, and a few bottles of whiskey scattered across the surface.
My gaze lingered on it, and a shiver went through me remembering the last time I’d been here. I closed my eyes and willed the images away. They had no business being in my mind.
Get a grip, Emmy. You’re here for Luke.
The door shut, leaving us alone.
Austin leaned against the edge of the desk, arms crossed, watching me. "Luke was last seen two nights ago. He was supposed to meet one of our guys at a drop, but he never showed."
"A drop? What kind of drop?"
His expression didn’t change other than the same tick of his jaw. "Club business."
Of course. The Kings of Chaos never let outsiders into their world, and despite the fact that I was Luke’s sister, I was still an outsider. "Austin, this is my brother. You think I give a damn about club secrets right now?"
His gaze locked on to mine, inscrutable. Then, with a heavy exhale, "Fine. We were securing a shipment. Grit was supposed to be there, but he never showed. His phone’s off so we can’t ping it. No one’s seen or heard from him since."
My breath caught. "And you didn’t think to tell me?"
“I wasn’t about to drag you into this unless I had to."
My nails dug into my palms. Men. Always deciding what was best for me. Always shutting me out.
"He’s my family," I snapped.
"He’s my brother too," Austin shot back, his voice rough. "You don’t think I’m doing everything in my power to find him?"
His words hit me like a slap.
Right. Luke wasn’t just my brother. He was also Austin’s family. His brother in the Kings of Chaos. The family that didn’t include me.
The tension between us simmered, an undercurrent of old and unresolved emotions crackling in the air.
I swallowed hard. "Then let me help."
Austin stared at me for a long beat. "This isn’t your world anymore, Emmy. Remember, you couldn’t get away fast enough."
I refused to let him bait me. We both knew what happened. "What did or didn’t happen years ago isn’t important. My brother’s disappearance is, and I need to know if Luke is in trouble."
The silence stretched between us, but something shifted in his eyes.
Finally, he ran a hand through his dark hair, exhaling loudly as he conceded. "Fine. But if you’re in, you follow my lead."
My chin lifted, enabling me to meet his gaze head-on. "I don’t take orders from you, Austin."
His grin was back, sly and knowing—the kind that used to make my panties wet every single time. This time was no different, but I would die before I admitted it.
"You never did. Except in the bedroom. I remember you loving my orders then."
Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. "That was a long time ago."
"Doesn’t feel that way." His voice was lower now, raspier. The way his gaze raked over me made it impossible to forget the nights we stole in secret, the way he used to hold me down, command my body until I was too wrecked to deny how much I wanted him. “I’ve missed you, Emmy.”
His words did funny things to my insides. I wanted to throw back that I hadn’t missed him, but that would have been a lie. "Everything’s changed, Austin."
"Has it?"
“Yes. It had to, remember? You said I couldn’t get away fast enough, but you’re the one who threw me away," I reminded him, needing to direct the power back in my favor.
Austin rolled his shoulders like he was shaking off a weight. "You walked away, Emmy. You made it real damn clear that whatever we had wasn’t worth the fallout."
"I walked away when you gave me no other choice."
"Sure," he muttered. "You always had a plan, didn’t you? Get out, get that fancy degree, and leave this place in your rearview and never come back."
Not my original plan. At one time, I saw my life going in a completely different direction. One that included him. His casual comment about a confusing and painful time in my life shouldn’t have stung, not after all these years. But it did.
"I didn’t leave Luke," I spit back at him. "I called. I visited. And if he’d needed me—really needed me—I would’ve been here."
Austin studied me, something flickering behind his eyes that was quickly masked. "Well, he needs you now."
Right. I exhaled sharply. That’s why I was here. Not to resurrect the past. Not to let Austin get under my skin. "Then tell me where to start."
His expression hardened. "We’re working on finding the last person who saw Luke. Then we pay them a visit."
A chill skated down my spine as I walked out of the clubhouse. I did what I came here to do. Austin agreed to help me find my brother. Now I’d crossed a line I couldn’t uncross. A man I once loved with my whole being was back in my life. There was no turning back.
As I got into my car, I bit my lip to keep the emotional tears from falling. My hand shook as I pressed the button to start the car and, as I pulled out onto the road with the clubhouse in my rearview mirror, I refused to allow myself to go there. But some things were too powerful to deny.
Wild, stupid in love, and convinced Austin King had hung the damn stars in the sky.
We were lying in the back of his truck on blankets, parked on a dirt road near Lake Jordan. My head rested against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. We were both naked and glowing from the most incredible orgasms.
“I ever tell you I’m gonna marry you one day?” His voice was laced with that lazy confidence that always made me shiver.
I smiled, tracing his KOC tattoo with my fingertip. “Only every day.”
“Well,” he murmured, tipping his head to look down at me, “don’t forget it.”
I laughed. “You can barely commit to a song on the radio.”
He shifted, turning onto his side so he could hover over me, brushing my hair back from my face. “But I’d commit to you, Em. In a second.”
My breath hitched.
“I’m serious,” he said, eyes soft now. “Someday, it’s gonna be you and me. No bullshit. No secrets. Just us.”
And God help me, I’d believed him.
Chapter 2 Austin Prez King
The door shut behind Emmy, the distant rumble of her car barely audible over the hum of the clubhouse. The instinct to chase after her was strong. I’d spent years trying to shake the grip she had on me, but some chains weren’t meant to be broken.
The moment I saw her, it was like the air got knocked out of my lungs. Emmy. She looked different, but still so damn beautiful it hurt. Her hair was a little shorter, pulled back in a loose knot like she didn’t even realize how effortlessly sexy she was. There were shadows under her eyes, a weariness she hadn’t carried before, but it only made her look stronger—like she’d been through hell and clawed her way out.
And those eyes… fuck, those liquid brown eyes still held the same golden flame that used to light me up from the inside out. One look at her and every wall I’d built over the years cracked wide open. I told myself I’d moved on, that I’d buried whatever I’d felt for her a long time ago. But standing there, watching her walk back into my world like she still owned a piece of me, I knew I had only been fooling myself.
My fingers dug into my palms, tension flaring through my muscles like a slow-burning fuse. I knew her. Knew the stubborn fire in her belly, the reckless way she threw herself into a fight if she thought it was the right thing to do. She’d dig into Grit’s disappearance with both hands, push into places she had no business being.
And that was exactly why I had no choice but to keep an eye on her. She’d get herself hurt.
My jaw flexed. I wouldn’t let that happen. That’s why I gave in and let her believe she was helping, let her think she was taking control. It was easier that way. If she felt like she was in charge, she wouldn’t try to shake me off when I kept a tail on her.
Pulling out my phone, I shot a quick message to Diesel.
Follow her. Make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.
Emmy Carter. The girl who’d once been everything. Memories hit me like a two by four to the head. Long summer nights sneaking around, her breathless laughter as I pinned her to the seat of my bike before taking her for a ride. The way she used to look at me like I was something more than the brash son of a man who never deserved the title of father.
I scoffed, shaking my head. That was a lifetime ago. Before my old man had driven into a concrete barrier with enough liquor in his system to kill a lesser man. Before I’d stepped up to take over the club, carrying a weight that wasn’t meant to be mine—at least not that quickly—but had landed on my shoulders anyway. I was a King. And Kings ruled the club. They always had. My grandfather had started the club, and I thought I’d have years before the job fell to me. I was wrong.
My father had ruled the Kings of Chaos with a fist as heavy as the bottle he was always drinking from. I swore I wouldn’t be like him. Wouldn’t let power rot me from the core.
But responsibility had a way of eating at a man, forcing him to make choices that left blood on his hands and regrets in his heart. Emmy.
Then there was Luke, the closest thing I had to a real brother. We’d come up together, survived the old man’s wrath together. And now he was gone.
It was suddenly harder to take a full breath. Luke wasn’t dead. Couldn’t be. But there was no doubt something had gone horribly wrong.
Emmy knew it too. She wasn’t gonna let this go. And that’s why I’d do everything in my power to make sure she stayed safe. None of this ugliness would touch her.
With a sigh I made my way through the clubhouse, ignoring the calls from a couple of the guys who were deep in their usual poker game.
The place was a mix of old and new—leather couches that had seen too many late nights and too much sex, a bar that was restocked more frequently than it was cleaned, and walls covered in the history of the Kings of Chaos.
Framed photos of past presidents lined the hallway outside my office, a constant reminder of the men who came before me. The first one, my grandfather, Elias King. Then my grandfather’s brother, Ephrem King, and a few uncles. And the last one before my own—my father. Tate King. A son of a bitch with a mean streak a mile wide.
I shook off the memories and pushed into my office. The second I sat down, a knock sounded at the door.
"Yeah?"
Tank stepped inside, closing the door behind him. The man was a wall of muscle, six-four with a thick beard that hid most of the scars lining his jaw. His real name was Dean Hollis, but no one had called him that in over a decade.
Tank had been my right-hand since the day I took the gavel. He wasn’t just the club’s Sergeant-at-Arms—he was the guy who made sure problems were handled before they ever made it to my desk.
Right now, he looked like he had a problem.
"You got Diesel tailing her?" Tank asked, dropping into the chair across from me.
I nodded. "She’s not gonna back off, so I’d rather have her close."
He exhaled loudly, rubbing a hand over his beard. "Damn shame, man. Luke goes missing, and now we got Emmy digging into shit she don’t need to be involved in."
"She’s smart. She’s got instincts, and she’s got a connection to Luke." My jaw flexed. "She’s gonna be a pit bull on this."
Tank grunted. "Yeah, well, she ain’t club. We both know where this road leads if she starts kickin’ over the wrong rocks."
I met his gaze, unflinching. "That’s why I’m keeping her close. I let her believe she’s running the show, she won’t see me steering from behind."
He let out a humorless laugh. "You really think you can control her?"
Silence stretched between us. I didn’t answer because I knew the truth. He did too. I could watch her, tail her, throw every damn roadblock her way, but Emmy Carter was a force of nature. No one controlled a storm.
Tank eyed me, the tension almost palpable. "This ain’t just about Luke," he said, voice lower now.
I tapped my fingers against the desktop.
"You tell me I’m wrong," Tank continued. "Tell me this don’t have somethin’ to do with what you two had before."
My lips pressed together. Emmy wasn’t just some girl I used to fuck. She wasn’t just some memory I’d buried under whiskey and regret. She was mine before either of us knew what that meant. And then she left.
My mood soured. "It doesn’t matter what we had before. That was years ago."
Tank shook his head, unconvinced. "Ain’t just about the past, Prez. It’s about what she still is to you."
I looked away, staring at the spot on the wall where my cut hung on a hook. The Kings were my family. My responsibility. My life. There had never been room for anything else. Hadn’t I proven that when she walked away when I couldn’t give her more?
Tank didn’t push. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "So, what’s the play? Luke didn’t just up and vanish. You and I both know that. We got enemies out there still licking their wounds from the last war we fought. You think this is about the club?"
"I don’t know yet, but someone wanted him gone. And until I know who, I’m gonna assume everyone’s a threat."
He nodded. "I’ll get the guys on high alert. Start checking in on our usual contacts, see if anyone’s heard something."
"Good. And keep in touch with Diesel. If anyone so much as looks sideways at Emmy, I wanna know about it."
He stood, but before he turned for the door, his gaze lingered. "You say it don’t matter anymore, but if that girl’s got your heart in a chokehold, you best figure your shit out before it’s too late."
Then he was gone, leaving me alone with thoughts I’d rather drown in whiskey. I pushed out of my chair, grabbed the bottle sitting on the shelf, and poured myself a drink. The burn down my throat did nothing to chase away the past. Because no matter how much time had passed, no matter how many women had come and gone, Emmy had always been the one.
She’d been a thorn in my side, a wildfire I couldn’t control, and the only damn person who ever made me feel like the world wasn’t just blood, betrayal, and club business.
I downed the rest of my whiskey, but it didn’t dull the memories that came rushing back.
The first time I saw her, really saw her, not just as Luke’s little sister, she couldn’t have been more than fifteen. Too young. Too wild. Too damn tempting even then.
She was standing outside the clubhouse, scuffed-up Chucks on her feet, torn jeans hugging long legs she didn’t even seem to realize she had. A worn-out band tee hung off one shoulder, exposing smooth golden skin, but it wasn’t her looks that caught my attention that day.
It was the fire in her eyes. That untamed, reckless energy that made her impossible to ignore.
She was mouthing off at one of the prospects, one under the misguided assumption that just because she was a teenage girl hanging around the club, she was an easy target. He never got the chance to finish whatever slick comment he was making before Emmy laid him out with a well-placed knee to the balls. Stupid ass didn’t know she belonged to Grit.
I’d been leaning against my bike at the time, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement.
"That all you got?" she’d taunted, standing over the poor bastard who was curled up in the dirt, groaning.
I’d chuckled to myself then shook my head.
It didn’t take long before she was everywhere—hanging around the garage, pushing her way into places she didn’t belong. Not as a club girl. Not as a damn groupie. She had too much pride for that.
No, Emmy was there because her brother, Luke, had been patched in as a second generation. Her father had also been a member until losing his life in a war between clubs when Emmy was younger.
Luke had the added responsibility of raising her when he wasn’t much more than a kid himself. And when Luke joined the Kings, Emmy got pulled into my world, whether anyone wanted her there or not. She was a rebellious teen who was too smart for her own good, and Grit had to keep an eye on her.
She was seventeen the first time she really saw me, though.
I still remembered the way she had looked at me that night—like I was someone worth knowing. Like I wasn’t just another outlaw in a leather cut with too much blood on my hands.
I was twenty-three, just before I took over as Prez, already carrying more weight on my shoulders than any man my age should’ve. And she was forbidden. She was off-limits. Too young. Too tied to the club in ways that could get messy fast. So I’d kept my distance. For a while.
But Emmy had never been the kind of girl to let a line stay drawn for long.
She chased me relentlessly, pushing, testing, daring me to see her as something more than Luke’s little sister.
When she turned eighteen, I had no option but to surrender to the attraction. That first night, when I finally gave in, was seared into my brain. The way she’d melted against me. The way she demanded just as much as she gave. She wasn’t some sweet, innocent girl waiting to be led—she was fire, burning me alive.
I ran a hand over my face, exhaling hard.
I had tried to do right by her, had tried to be what she deserved. But I was young, wild, and already married to the club before I even realized what that truly meant. The Kings always came first—that was the way it had to be.
And Emmy? She learned that the hard way.
She had stuck by me longer than I ever expected. Longer than she should have. She had fought for me, for us, even when I made it clear where my priorities lay. At first, she accepted what little I could give her but after too many nights alone and missed times together, she started pushing back, challenging me, refusing to play the part of the obedient, waiting woman any longer.
By then, I was too deep in club business, too focused on proving myself as the new Prez, as the one who could handle whatever the Kings needed. I thought she understood. Thought she’d always understand.
Until she didn’t. Until the day she stopped arguing. Stopped waiting.
I could still hear her voice, the quiet finality in it, the way it cut more painfully than any blade ever could.
“I can’t do this anymore, Austin. I won’t be second to a damn motorcycle club. I’m not built to be some biker’s old lady, content with scraps of your time.”
She hadn’t yelled. Hadn’t thrown anything. She had simply walked away.
And I let her.
Watched her drive off with that determined spark in her eyes, telling myself it was for the best. That she was too good for this life, too smart to waste herself on a man who would never be able to put her first. That she’d be better off without me, and I wouldn’t regret it.
But damn if that wasn’t the biggest lie I ever told myself. Because no matter how much time had passed, no matter how many meaningless hookups I’d used to try to erase her, Emmy had never left me.
Tonight, she’d stood in front of me again, that same flame in her eyes, walking straight into the inferno. No way in hell was I going to let her do it alone.
Chapter 3 Emmy
My heels clicked against the worn linoleum of the Summit Youth Center, the familiar hum of voices and laughter filling the air. Once I graduated, this place had been my sanctuary, the one piece of stability in a world that had never stopped shifting beneath my feet since I left the Kings and all their chaos. Here, I had purpose—helping kids who were dangerously close to falling through the cracks. Right now, I needed that purpose to anchor me.
“Carter!”
The sharp voice snapped me out of my thoughts just as a woman stepped into my path, an arched brow daring me to keep walking.
Maya Diaz.
Damn it. Maya knew me too well. But that was no surprise as she had been by my side since college, back when my relationship with Austin ended, and the impossible dream of building a life outside the club started.
“Are you gonna tell me why you look like you just walked out of a crime scene, or am I gonna have to shake it out of you?” Maya demanded, dark eyes scanning me like a human lie detector.
I’d gotten back late last night. The hour drive home had given me too much time to reflect on seeing Austin again. To remember. Then I hadn’t been able to fall asleep until almost four in the morning.
I ran a hand through my hair. “Not a crime scene. Just a bad idea in the form of my past.”
Her expression softened just a fraction. “Austin?”
Of course, she knew. Maya had been there after the breakup, had been the one to drag me out of bed, ply me with tequila, and swear on everything holy that one day I’d find a man who wouldn’t make me feel like I was competing with an entire motorcycle club.
Maya shook her head and tugged me into my office. “Alright, spill. And don’t even try to downplay it.”
Inside the small, cluttered space, Maya flopped onto the couch while I sat behind the desk, hands twisting in my lap.
“He’s helping me find Luke.”
Maya’s eyes narrowed. “Helping you… or letting you think you’re helping while he pulls the strings?”
I bristled. “I’m not some clueless girl who’s gonna let him run the show. If Austin wants to keep me on a leash, he’s in for a rude awakening.”
She smiled gleefully. “Damn right he is.” But then her expression sobered. “Look, I get it. Luke’s your blood. I’d do the same if it were my brother. But are you sure about this? Going back into that world?”
The short answer? Hell, no. “I don’t have a choice, Maya. If the club is tied to what happened to Luke, I need to know.”
Maya stared at me for a long moment, then sighed. “Just promise me one thing. Be careful. And don’t let Austin get in your head again.”
Too late.
The memory of his touch, his voice, the way he had always made me feel like the center of his world—even when I knew I wasn’t—stabbed into me like a phantom ache.
“I won’t,” I lied.
Maya rolled her eyes. “That was the least convincing thing I’ve ever heard. But fine, I’ll let it slide for now.”
Never one to sit around, I worked through my lunch break and left for the day early to check out Luke’s place. That meant another drive, but I was determined to get answers. My heart raced when I found his door unlocked.
That was the first red flag.
I hesitated in the hallway, my pulse hammering. I had been here plenty of times, had helped Luke move in after I left for college, and he sold the home we had both been born in to subsidize my education. He had never been careless—not after the life we grew up with.
My fingers tightened around the handle of the door before I slowly pushed it open. Inside, the apartment was a disaster.
Luke was never known to be neat, but this? This wasn’t just a mess. The coffee table was overturned, glass shattered across the rug. One of the kitchen chairs was missing a leg, and the cushions on the couch had been slashed open.
A lump formed in my throat. Someone was looking for something. Or sending a message. I took a step inside, heart pounding. If Luke was here when this happened—
A sound behind me had me spinning.
Austin.
He stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his stance all casual confidence, but his eyes… his eyes missed nothing.
“Are you following me?” I asked the obvious question.
He didn’t flinch. “Just a coincidence. Thought I’d missed something the first time I was here so I came to see if I could find anything. This has happened recently; it wasn’t like this before.”
My pulse jumped from his nearness. I turned back toward the apartment, gesturing at the wreckage. “Whoever did this, they were looking for something.”
Austin’s gaze swept over the scene, his jaw tightening. “Or to send a message.”
My gaze landed on the slashed pillow cushions. The message was blatantly obvious. What was my brother mixed up in? “I’ll go talk to his neighbors and see if they heard or saw anything.”
He took a step closer, crowding into my space, the heat of him wrapping around me like a warning. “No the hell you won’t. You’re going to stay out of it. Because you don’t know when to back off, Emmy.”
“I have to, Austin. I can’t just let it go. This could be the way we find him.”
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then Austin let out a breath, breaking the silence between us. “You never could walk away from a fight,” he murmured, eyes locked on to mine. “Especially not one that matters.”
His voice was steady, but there was something beneath it—a quiet intensity that made my chest feel too tight. He wasn’t trying to talk me down. He was meeting me there.
Once upon a time, I had wished for exactly that—for him to stand beside me, to choose me over the club, to put us first. To include me.
And when he hadn’t… I forced myself to accept it.
But now it felt different, and I didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust him. Didn’t trust myself. I stepped past him, my shoulder barely grazing his as I moved toward the door. “Let’s start with Mr. Goldberg. You don’t need to go. I can do it by myself. I don’t need a bodyguard.”
Austin didn’t try to stop me, but his words followed me.
“Too bad, Emmy,” he said. “You’ve got one.”
My steps carried me out of the apartment, my pulse was racing for all the wrong reasons. And that terrified me more than anything.
***
On the drive home, my mind worked overtime on why someone would trash Luke’s apartment. We’d come up blank with the neighbors. No one had seen or heard the break-in. But that wasn’t all that was on my mind. All too often, my thoughts went straight to Austin. How that man could get under my skin.
When I got home, I locked my door and leaned against it, exhaling slowly as I pressed my palms against the cool wood. My heart still pounded, the ghost of Austin’s voice lingering in my head.
Too bad. You’ve got one.
Damn him.
I shoved off the door and tossed my bag onto the kitchen counter, rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension. It didn’t work. My mind was still tangled up in the past, memories creeping in the moment I let my guard down.
I hadn’t seen Austin in years. Had spent all that time convincing myself I was over him. That I’d moved on.
But standing in that apartment, feeling his presence settle over me like a weight I couldn’t shrug off, I had to face the awful truth. I hadn’t moved on at all because no man had ever come close.
I let out a bitter laugh and walked to the fridge, pulling out a half-empty bottle of wine. No glass. I twisted the cap off and took a swig, welcoming the cool relief.
There had been others, of course. A few flings. One almost-relationship that had lasted six months before I ended it. I knew it was going nowhere. I felt bad about it because he was a really great guy. I could have been happy with him long-term, but I wanted more than just happiness. He deserved more than someone settling for him.
It took me years to understand why. No matter how good a man was, no matter how much sense we made on paper, none of them was Austin.
And in bed?
God help me, I’d tried to find someone who could match him. Someone who could push me to the edge the way he had. Someone who could wreck me. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was too late. The memories hit me fast and hard.
The way he used to look at me across a crowded room, the heat in his gaze setting my blood on fire. The way he’d back me against a wall, his voice rough with need as he murmured in my ear, “You know how this ends, Em. So stop pretending you don’t want it.”
The way he could take me apart with nothing but his hands and that wicked, talented mouth. I braced my hands against the countertop, inhaling harsh breaths. He had ruined me for anyone else. The worst part was I had let him. I’d begged him even.
With a frustrated groan, I took another drink straight from the bottle and stalked to the couch. Flipping on the TV, I scrolled aimlessly, trying to find something—anything—to distract me from the ache in my chest.
Because I wasn’t going to do this. I wasn’t going to sit here and drown in memories of a man who had never been able to choose me the way I had once chosen him. I would not let Austin King do this to me again.
My phone buzzed, breaking through my thoughts. Frowning, I grabbed it off the coffee table and glanced at the screen.
Unknown Number.
I stared at the message, my pulse a steady but rapid thud in my ears.
Meet me at Juno’s Tavern. 10 PM.
No name. No explanation. But I knew. Luke… or someone who knew what happened to him.
My stomach twisted as I clutched the phone in my fist. It could be a trap. It could be nothing. But if there was even the smallest chance that it could lead me to my brother, I had to take it.
A voice in the back of my head whispered that I should call someone. But who?
The cops? They hadn’t done a damn thing when I reported Luke missing. The Kings? Austin?
Hell, no. I didn’t need them. I could handle this on my own.
I grabbed my jacket off the back of the couch and threw it on, checking my reflection in the mirror by the door. I looked normal. Maybe a little tense, my brown eyes darker than usual, lips pressed into a firm line. I took a breath, trying to relax the tightness in my chest, and pulled my wavy brown hair into a loose ponytail.
My gun sat in the small safe tucked away on the top shelf of the closet by the entryway. I had to move a stack of blankets and books out of the way and then I hesitated. I’d never carried before, never wanted to be the kind of person who needed a weapon. Luke had made sure I knew how to handle a gun and shoot accurately. He was the reason I had it in the first place, insisting a single woman living on her own needed one. I wasn’t afraid to do what was necessary in a life-and-death situation.
This was different, though. This wasn’t just about me.
Shaking off my doubt, I grabbed the safe, punched in the code, and pulled the small Glock out, along with a loaded magazine. The weight of it felt strange, but reassuring. After sliding the magazine into place and racking the slide, I tucked the pistol into the inside pocket of my jacket and stepped out the door.
The night air was cool against my skin as I climbed into my car, gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. I wasn’t looking forward to another long drive, but at least it was only about an hour to Juno’s. With every passing mile, the tension in my gut twisted tighter.
I parked down the block, scanning the lot outside the bar. A few bikes lined the front—none I recognized—but it wasn’t packed. Juno’s wasn’t the kind of place that saw a weekend crowd. It was dark, a little rundown, mostly locals.
A place for men who wanted to be left alone.
I was about thirty minutes early, so I sat in the car, jumping at every little sound. Finally, at five minutes before ten, I swallowed past the lump in my throat and stepped out of the car. My boots hit the pavement, the sound drowned out by the low hum of music spilling out when someone pushed through the bar’s front door.
I forced myself forward, slipping inside and letting my eyes adjust to the dim lighting.
Juno’s smelled like cheap beer and fried food, the air thick with cigarette smoke and pot. A couple of men sat hunched over the bar, a few more scattered at tables along the walls. A pool game was in progress near the back, but no one paid me any attention.
Good.
I kept my steps steady, scanning the room for anyone who looked like they might be waiting for me. Nothing.
I reached the bar and flagged down the bartender, a woman in her fifties with dyed red hair and assessing eyes.
“Club soda,” I said, climbing onto a stool.
She gave me a knowing smirk but didn’t comment, just poured my drink and slid it over.
Minutes ticked by. The ice in my drink melted. And the feeling that I’d just made a huge mistake grew stronger with each second. I was about to leave when I felt it.
A presence. Heavy. Familiar. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and before I even turned around, I knew who I’d see. Knew it before I heard the slow, measured steps of his boots against the wooden floor. Before the heat of his body ghosted over my skin as he stepped up beside me. Before his voice sent a shiver down my spine.
“Didn’t take you long to get yourself into trouble.”
I turned my head, meeting Austin’s storm-blue eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”
His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “You really gotta ask?”
My heart pounded. “You had me followed.”
“Of course I did.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
Austin let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “Come on, Em. I’ve known you half your life. You really think I didn’t know you’d run straight into the fire the first chance you got? You should be impressed that I got here so quick.”
My hands curled into fists beneath the bar. Damn him.
I forced a breath through my nose, keeping my voice level. “Like I’ve already told you, I don’t need a babysitter or a bodyguard.”
He leaned in, the scent of leather and smoke emanating from him so familiar. “Yeah? Then why do I get the feeling you wouldn’t have made it out of here tonight if I hadn’t shown up?”
A slow, awful realization settled in my gut. I had been set up.
The person who texted me wasn’t here. And either they’d changed their mind, or they never planned on showing at all.
Austin read the shift in my expression instantly. His jaw ticked. “That’s what I thought.”
I slid off the stool, my body tight with frustration. “I can handle myself.”
His hand shot out, catching my wrist. He didn’t grip hard, but the weight of his touch sent a shiver up my arm.
“Not against people who want you dead, Em.”
I tried to yank free, but he didn’t let go. Not until I stopped fighting. Not until I looked up at him and saw the fear almost hidden beneath the anger in his eyes.
For an endless moment, neither of us moved. I felt the heat of his touch linger after he let me go. His body was close, the warmth of him attacking my senses, stirring up memories I had no business thinking about right now.
Austin's gaze searched my face, asking, and demanding something I wasn’t sure I could give. His chest rose and fell with controlled breaths, but the tightness in his shoulders betrayed him. He was holding back.
I could feel it.
Then, with a rough exhale, he took a step back, severing the invisible thread pulling us together.
“We’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question.
I stiffened. “I didn’t agree to that.”
“Too bad.” His jaw ticked as he stared me down. “You’ve got my protection whether you want it or not.”
I hated how easily he could do this—walk in like he still had some kind of claim on me. He gave that up years ago.
But what I hated more was the way my body responded. No matter how much I wanted to fight him, a part of me—the part I’d buried deep—felt steadier with him here.
I grit my teeth, shoving down the unwanted warmth creeping up my spine. “You don’t get to decide what I do, Austin.”
“I’m not deciding for you,” he said. “I’m making sure you don’t get yourself killed before you find Luke. He’d be really pissed at me if I let that happen.”
A lump formed in my throat at the mention of my brother, the reminder of why I was here in the first place.
I wanted to argue, to push back just to prove that he didn’t have control over me. But the truth settled heavy in my chest—someone had lured me here tonight, and if Austin hadn’t shown up…
I didn’t finish the thought. Instead, I let out a ragged breath, pushed past him, and made for the door.
He followed, a silent shadow at my back.
The cool night air hit me as soon as I stepped outside. It should have been a relief, a break from the suffocating atmosphere of the bar, but it wasn’t. Not with Austin right behind me. Not with the way the night suddenly felt darker, more dangerous.
My boots scuffed against the pavement as I came to a stop beside my car. I could feel him watching me, waiting.
I turned my head slightly, catching the outline of his profile in the dim glow of the streetlights. Strong jaw. Broad shoulders. Those damn blue eyes that had always been my weakness.
The same man I had walked away from all those years ago. The same man who had let me walk away.
Austin shifted, sliding his hands into his pockets like he had all the time in the world. “You coming, or do I have to throw you over my bike?”
“Try it, and I’ll break your nose.”
The bastard smirked. “Now that’s the Emmy I remember.”
A flicker of something—nostalgia, regret, maybe both—passed between us, but I ignored it. Right now, none of that mattered.
Right now, all that mattered was figuring out who the hell had set me up.