Chapter 3
3
Robyn
S eated in my car, I take a long sip of my coffee and practically inhale the blueberry scone—saving the one next to the babyccino for Kyra. As I eat and drink and process the events of the day, I feel an invisible force reaching out and gripping my heart. Tighter and tighter it squeezes until I can no longer breathe.
“Fuck.”
If I don’t get it under control, I’ll be in no shape to drive.
Deep breaths, Robyn. The nightmare has been over for a long time.
Deep breaths.
“One, two,” I whisper, trying to release the demons from my mind.
Deep breaths .
I close my eyes and the whole world disappears in an endless sea of darkness as I search for the light—the twinkle that will pull me back into my true self. I’ve always been a fighter. I can’t give up on myself because of Calvin’s return. Kyra needs me. Hell, I need me.
And in that darkness, three figures emerge.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and brave, those three men have been there since the beginning. They were there when everything fell apart. They helped me pick up the pieces. Last night, they took me in their arms and made me an offer, the kind of offer I cannot bring myself to refuse.
Half an hour later, I pull up outside the clubhouse after texting Ellie and kindly asking her to pick Kyra up for me. “I’m gonna be a little late,” I tell her.
I stare at the building for a moment. “Long time, no see, old friend,” I mutter.
Nothing much has changed in the four years since I last set foot in the Riders’ clubhouse place. The wooden siding is the same, though it’s been refreshed with a layer of dark ebony stain and weatherproof lacquer. It’s packed inside. At a glance, there are at least thirty Riders in there along with guests and friends of the club.
The lights are on in some of the rooms upstairs, where they have suites of offices. The Rogue Riders MC is no ordinary motorcycle club: It’s a business, a concept, a movement even.
“Come on, Robyn, you’ve got this,” I tell myself, trying to summon the courage I need for the next step. My body takes over. My feet move on their own until I walk through the front door just as the jukebox switches to a ‘90s rock ballad. “Oh, wow…”
It’s pretty much the same inside; it’s been beautifully preserved: the sprawling bar with its LED lighting and seemingly endless shelves of pricey booze, the leather seating and private booths with overhead cylinder lamps; the pool tables, and the dart boards haven’t changed either.
“Even the jukebox is the same,” I mumble.
I don’t recognize most of the people there, though. Some I’ve seen around town, of course, but I’ve never met them. I spot the old timers gathered around one of the pool tables. Still rowdy sore losers by the looks of them.
“YOU!” a man’s voice booms across the bar.
“Oh, shit,” I mutter, freezing on the spot until I see him coming.
He practically tumbles toward me, big and burly and angry-looking. But all I can do is laugh as soon as he reaches me.
“Samson Donoghue, you old fart,” I say, my hands resting on my hips.
All eyes are on me now.
“Who are you calling an old fart?” Samson snaps. His grey hair has grown longer and thinner, but he refuses to cut it; he combs it into a tight ponytail instead.
“You, with your slicked-back renegade ponytail from the late ’80s,” I shoot back. “Cut it short, man. Wear your fucking age with dignity.”
It’s banter, and he knows it. But he insists on keeping the deathly glare on for another handful of seconds before he, too, bursts into laughter and takes me in his arms, damn near crushing my ribcage in a bear hug.
“You foul mouthed little devil!” Samson snarls. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’ve missed you.”
“Tell that to someone who’ll believe you,” he scoffs and gently pulls back. “I thought I told you to stay away from this place.”
“And stay away I did, didn’t I? For four whole years,” I quip.
Samson measures me from head to toe, allowing himself a soft smile. “You look so beautiful, my darling Robyn,” he says. “The years have been good to you. Motherhood suits you.”
“I’m blessed with a good daughter,” I reply. “You should come around and meet her.”
“Kyra, huh?”
I nod, then smile sadly. “Samson, we live in the same town. How did this happen?”
He takes a deep breath and throws an arm around my shoulders, turning us both to face the bar. “It happened because you got out of the life, honey,” he says. “Like you were supposed to, after everything that went down.”
“Yeah, but still—”
“There’s nothing wrong with us being perfect strangers for a few years,” he says. “I know Knox and the boys took care of you. They looked out for you, and you moved on with your life. It’s the natural order of things. But don’t think for a second that I never thought about you or about that bundle of joy of yours. I did. Every damn day.”
I feel it. He means every word, and it tugs at my heart strings. For a long time, Samson was the closest thing I ever had to a father figure. Despite his burly appearance and rough-around-the-edges nature, Samson is a decent man with a strong set of values. In many ways, he’s a better man than most. He’s probably the reason the Rogue Riders were able to pull away from the drug world and rebuild their club into something else entirely.
“I’ve missed you,” I tell him.
“I’ve missed you too. And I guess I’ll have to come around and see Kyra. Jagger says she’s growing up to be quite the heartbreaker. That true?”
“Let’s just say I’ll need to keep a 10-gauge shotgun handy for when she’s a young lady. I also considered digging a moat around the house and filling it up with water.”
“Maybe throw in an alligator or two, just to make sure.”
“That’s not the worst idea,” I say with a laugh.
He chuckles gruffly. “What brings you here, honey?”
“I think we both know.”
“Calvin.”
I nod once, unable to stop a heavy sigh from rolling off my chest. “I didn’t think it would happen so quickly.”
“Just as you were getting used to the good life, huh?”
“As good as it can get for a single mom, I guess. I’ve had Jagger’s, Knox’s, and Diesel’s support, though. In a way, and despite the fact that we haven’t seen each other in a few years, I’m guessing I’ve had your support too, huh?”
He gives me a tentative smile. “Every damn day, honey. Every damn day, I’ve kept you in my thoughts and wished nothing but the best for you and the little one.”
“I’m going to need you to keep us both in your thoughts for a while longer ’cause I’m not sure what’s going to happen next,” I say. “Where are they?”
“Up the stairs, first door on the left; where they’ve always been.”
Samson gives me a gentle pat on the shoulder, and I head to the staircase. I look around again, offering polite nods to those who remember me.
Every step I conquer brings me closer to a conclusion I’ve already come to somewhere in the back of my head. This is just me, putting my thoughts into action. It sounded easy enough when I pulled up outside the clubhouse.
Not anymore. I knock on the door.
“Come in.” Knox’s voice sends shivers down my spine.
My pulse picks up speed as I grasp the doorknob and turn it. The door opens, and I find Knox seated behind his desk, leaning comfortably in his leather swivel chair. Jagger sits in the armchair by the window, the golden glow of a streetlamp casting a soft light across his face. Diesel is on the sofa, pouring himself a double shot of whiskey from a bottle they seem to have been nursing for a while.
And all three look like they could eat me alive.
I wouldn’t object.
“Robyn,” Knox says. He furrows his brow slightly while his blue eyes cut right through me. “Is everything okay?”
“What happened?” Jagger asks, even more worried while Diesel keeps his gaze on me and his lips sealed. “Is Kyra alright?”
“Yes, yes, everything is fine,” I reply with a nervous laugh as I shut the door. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you by coming here. We’re good. Well, as good as we can be under these circumstances anyway.”
Knox’s lips curl into a small but curious smile. “What brings you here, then? You swore you’d never set foot in this place again.”
“Oh, you remember that?” I mutter.
“I’ll never forget the day,” he says. “You damn near broke our hearts, walking out of the MC like that.”
I lower my gaze. Deep down, I’ve always regretted the way I left. No one in this club had ever meant to harm me—just Calvin. But the pain and the betrayal I felt were far too intense, too strong. I couldn’t stay here back then, not even for another second, because I associated the clubhouse with Calvin. If I wanted him out of my life, then I had to be out of this life. But I’ve missed it.
Being here now makes me realize precisely how much I’ve missed it.
“You guys have done a pretty good job with the upkeep of this place,” I say. “From the outside, it’s as if time has stopped.”
“Good things are worth keeping,” Jagger says. “The clubhouse may be old, but she’s a sturdy gal. A lick of paint here, a change of hardwood flooring there, a stain of wood and some new light fixtures felt like the decent thing to do.”
“It looks great,” I tell him with a soft smile. “Your dads would be proud.”
Knox nods in agreement. “I think they’d be the proudest if they could see how far the Rogue Riders have come without the drug trade.”
“Samson is looking great too,” I add.
Knox cuts me off. “Why are you here, Robyn? You didn’t answer my question.”
Ah, yes, the million-dollar question. I’ve been dancing around the answer for long enough. I know it. My heart knows it. My fearful mind still fights it, but the pressure has reached new levels. If I was afraid of what might happen if I said the word aloud before; I am now afraid of what might happen if I don’t say it and spend the rest of my life regretting it.
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” Diesel asks. But his steely grey eyes are already darkening. His lips part, making me want to lick mine.
“Yes,” I say it again, hoping I won’t have to elaborate.
But they’re not letting me get off that easily.
Knox is the first to stand up from his seat. “Yes, what?”
“Dammit,” I mutter. “Yes. I’ll have you if you’ll have me.”
The silence that follows could fill a tomb. The air thickens, particles crackling brightly everywhere around me as I wait for their reaction. I see the tension filling their bodies—broad backs straightening, shoulders tightening, gazes dripping with dark yet smoldering desire. It’s been there all along, simmering between us, waiting for the right moment to boil over. Who’d have thought that it would be Calvin’s premature return that would set the four of us ablaze like this?
“I mean, I’ve known for a long time that this is how you guys roll,” I blurt out, my mouth taking the lead for some godforsaken reason. “You share. I knew. Or, better said, I had a clue, an idea … it wasn’t until last night that … you know, it became clear. And I’ve had thoughts of my own about it.” I pause as Jagger and Diesel also get up.
In perfect tandem, the three of them walk over to me.
Instinctively, I take a couple of steps back, leaning against the office door.
Jagger reaches me first, his deep brown eyes drilling into my heart as he leans closer. I hold my breath. My heart skips a beat when I hear the key turn in the door lock.
“You do understand what this means, right?” he asks, his voice low and dripping with desire.
All I can do is nod slowly. I understand alright. And I want everything that follows.
Life is clearly too short and too dangerous for me to dance along the edges of what could potentially be the most wonderful experience. Besides, I’m safer with them than away from them. I have every reason to accept their proposal, even if it feels blurred and confusing. I’m saying yes with my sanity intact.
“Say it,” Jagger insists.
“Yes.”