“Never mind! I get it!” He took off running.

Fucking idiot. Was this the future of my club? God help us all.

I pulled my phone from my pocket. Sugar and Harlyn were due in tomorrow morning. Sugar had text messaged to say they were packed and ready and that Harlyn couldn’t wait to see me. I was dying to see her too. I only got a week or two once a year to spend time with her, but we tried to connect through phone calls and Skype as often as possible.

Mine and Sugar’s relationship was tough to explain. We got together young. She wasn’t a club kid. Quite the opposite actually. Her parents were wealthy, country club going, golf playing, Mercedes Benz driving, assholes. I was her ride on the wild side, and she was my touch of goodness that every bad boy craved to corrupt.

She was preppy, with long auburn hair and all the latest fashion. Her body was slim, maybe too much now I think about it, but at the time it had driven me crazy. What we didn’t expect was for more to come of a simple little fling. Sugar wasn’t complicated. She wasn’t one of those girls who used their good looks and money to get them places, even though she had plenty of both. She was kind and sweet and a little reserved.

At that time, I thought that was what I wanted. I thought I needed someone who’d let me lead and be a soft touch to come home to at night. I thought I wanted a woman who wore dresses and makeup and was the complete epitome of feminine. I thought I was in love and I was prepared to do whatever it took to keep her and to make her happy. What I wasn’t prepared for were the consequences that came along with that very decision.

We’d been at one of the local bars/pool clubs that were owned by the club called Sharp Shooters. Once a month we tried to go in just after closing and have a chat to the managers, to make sure everything was running smoothly. We chose to be silent owners in a lot of our businesses, simply for that fact that some people still saw us as worthless thugs and would not support anything we had a hand in. It was more lucrative for us to stay on the sidelines.

During the meeting Sugar had called, and like the pussy whipped bastard I was, I jumped.

My father told me it was fine, that I could go. But the fact was that we were in the middle of an on and off turf war with another club—Hell’s Highway MC—and I was about to leave my father and also my club president completely alone.

It wasn’t until later that night while I was tucked up with my woman, thinking I fucking had it all after seeing that little positive sign on a pregnancy test, that I learnt about the two men from the rival club that had walked into Sharp Shooters and shot my father and the bar manager dead, moments after I’d left. They’d been watching—waiting for a moment of weakness. And I’d handed it to them because I put my need to be with my woman first before my duty as a brother and a fucking son.

I’d gained one life and lost another, both on the same night and there was no way in hell I was going to risk having one more person I loved stolen away from me. So I sent Sugar away—alone and pregnant with my little girl.

Eventually, I had my revenge on the club who’d taken my father, and despite my stupid choices the Brothers by Blood still voted me in as their next President, believing that it was in my blood. I took the patch with pride, knowing that I’d do everything in my power to run the club just like my dad had—with strength, hard work, and respect.

Sugar saw things differently. She saw the club as dangerous and deadly. With my baby now growing in her belly, she refused to come home, raving about how now that I was president, me and my family were more of a target and that people would come after us.

I didn’t argue.

I figured she was right.

I never chased her, I never told anyone but my brothers about her, and I made very short visits to my daughter.

We’d had lockdowns before, but never had we had threats aimed directly at the women of the club. I wasn’t sure if Target had or hadn’t informed his family about Sugar and Harlyn. Blizzard was my only brother who ever came to visit them with us, and even then I was very careful about who saw me. And when it came to phone calls, they were always done from burner phones that I threw out afterward and were virtually untraceable. I covered my ass, but if for some reason I’d missed something and Target’s family went looking for them, I knew there was a possibility I’d never see them again.

Moving them here and confining them to the clubhouse was the only option.

Chelsea was different. I had no doubt that Target had told them just how much Chelsea meant to me. The only way to take the heat off her now was if I could convince them that she didn’t mean as much to me as they thought, and they would leave her alone. It was either very smart or downright stupid. But unfortunately, I couldn’t have it both ways.

If I wanted to prove that she wasn’t important to me, I had to push her away, and right now I was risking watching her walk out that door when she got sick of my shit. But if I claimed her and made her mine like I’d wanted to do for a long time now, it would put a definite target on her back and the pain of thinking she could be killed and be gone forever was too much to bear.

It was all messing with my head. But as usual, I had to suck it up and be the president my men and their families expected me to be. I had to make sure they were all protected and safe. They were relying on me and I was not going to let them down.

I would never let my club down again.

“So, why the sudden need to escape the testosterone zone?” Rose asked as she handed me a glass of wine.

I took it gratefully, taking a swig before I answered, “I’m a little fed up with alpha males to be quite honest.” We were sitting at a small dining room table in the middle of her kitchen. It was a cute two-bedroom place, small but workable. It was also in an excellent location, just off one of the main roads that lead into Athens city center.

She frowned at me before swiftly turning and rummaging through her kitchen cupboard.

“Um, what are you doing?”

“It’s here somewhere,” she mumbled.

“What’s there?”

“Thermometer. I think you must be sick.” She continued to search the cupboard and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sit down, woman. I’m fine.”

She smirked and took a seat back at the table, swirling her wine in her glass. “Just the other day you were telling me how I wouldn’t know what sex was until I did the dirty with some alpha male biker. What’s changed?”

“Nothing’s changed. I stand by that.” I laughed. “I guess I just needed some time out.”

“From a certain biker in particular?”

I pursed my lips and screwed up my face. “I think I’ve always known that I’ve had more feelings for him than he has for me. I mean, I’ve been around for like three years now and he’s always kept me close but not quite close enough.”

“Maybe he’s scared. Has he been hurt before?” she enquired with a tilt of her head.

I shrugged. “Previous relationships are off the talking cards.”

“Isn’t Friday always a big night in at the club? How did you manage to allow them to let you out tonight?”

I smirked and threw back the last of the wine in my glass. “The only way I knew I’d be able to leave—I didn’t tell them. “

She swallowed tightly and followed suit as I stood and tucked my chair back under the table. “Chelsea, won’t they come after you?”

I looked up and my smile slowly transformed a grin. “No doubt about it, so we better get going.”

“I think you’re playing with fire.” She laughed as she pulled her front door closed behind us.