A New Rage (Rage MC: Ortonville, MN #1)

Prologue.

Drake

Distracted, I glanced around the rec room and winced.

Bodies jammed the area, and while that gave me a warm and fuzzy sensation, it also sent a pang through me.

Rage had grown huge, far bigger than Axel, Da, and Spike had ever imagined.

We rarely recruited outside the club anymore.

The older teens were reaching the age when they could join us, and they weren’t holding back from applying.

Half the people here were brothers; then there were the old ladies, prospects, teens, younger kids, and now grandchildren.

Holy crap. Grandbabies. There’d been days I doubted any of us would survive to see children, let alone another generation.

Still slightly shocked, I stared at Fanatic and Willow.

While Fanatic was Hellfire, Willow’s father was Axel, which made her a Rage Princess.

In Willow’s arms was my grandson, Danny.

Damn, I was a grandfather! The thought always seemed to catch me off guard.

This was a full-on get-together; every member of Rage was present, along with old ladies and kids. And the clubhouse was rammed full, and the babble of voices was loud! I headed outside and took a breather—I was getting too old for this. Christ, I was turning into a grumpy old man.

I stared at the stars and tilted my bottle to them. Out here, I could think. I knew what my mind demanded I consider, but I kept shying away. Phoe would call me a control freak, and she’d be right. But after everything we’d come through as a club, how the fuck did I trust anyone else with it?

Rage was in my blood; it wasn’t just a group of men getting together to ride.

We’d spilt blood together, celebrated, grieved, lived in each other’s damn pockets.

Rage MC was a way of life for us, and now future generations were inheriting what we’d fought for.

I wasn’t stupid. The Venomous Fang threat was done, dusted and buried, but other threats lurked, wanting what Rage had.

We weren’t a poor club. Rage had money, a fuckload of dough.

None of the brothers needed to work; hell, none of the kids did either.

That put a target on our backs, though I wasn’t too worried.

After years of hell from the Venomous Fangs and the war, those other MCs weren’t a concern.

Let them come; we’d defend the land our blood had soaked.

“Drake?” Phoe asked, appearing and shoving under my arm.

“Hey, babe,” I bent my head and kissed her lips. We’d not had it easy, but fuck me, the love I felt for this woman slayed me at times.

Phoe smiled against my lips and hooked her arms around my neck.

I tasted the wine on her, and inside I cheered.

Phoe was tipsy, which meant I was gonna get dirty sex tonight.

I loved when Phoe got drunk because she was always wild and free.

Not that our sex life was bad; it was fuckin’ amazing, but when liquored up, Phoe had an abandon I enjoyed immensely.

“Are you okay?” she murmured as she rubbed against me.

I slapped her ass and grabbed a handful as she tweaked my nipple. “I will be when I’m inside you.”

Phoe moaned softly and then dragged me back inside. The one thing my wife wasn’t was an exhibitionist. Good job, too, because nobody but me witnessed Phoe in the throes of ecstasy.