Chapter 2
DRIFT
The clubhouse wasn’t far. Just a couple of miles from town and down a stretch with a row of low palms bowing in the breeze. By the time I rolled through the gates, night had settled in, but the air was still humid and thick.
The lot was lined with bikes, chrome glinting under the security lights. I parked in my usual spot beside Edge’s custom Harley. The sound of my engine cut off, leaving the kind of silence that still buzzed in your bones.
Inside, the air was cooler, permeated with the smell of leather, beer, and something cooking in the kitchen. A few brothers were scattered around the main room—Cage playing pool, Tyre poring over books at the bar, and Gauge laughing at whatever bullshit Rev was saying.
Our president, Kane, was near the entrance to a hallway that led to our offices. His arm was draped around his old lady, Savannah, as he stood talking to Edge—who happened to be his brother by blood, not just oath.
I nodded toward them and kept moving, ignoring the penetrating stares I could feel Kane and Edge aiming at my back. The steady and familiar noise was in the background, but it didn’t touch what was running through my head.
My phone buzzed as I was entering my room upstairs. I pulled it from my pocket and opened the screen.
Jax
Everything good with Alanna?
I stared at the message for a long moment, my thumb hovering above the keyboard.
Me
She’s settled in. Apartment’s secure.
That was it. No mention of how my hands had shaken when she hugged me. Or how her laugh still rang in my ears.
I tossed the phone and my keys onto the dresser, then sank onto the edge of the bed, the mattress creaking under my weight. Then I scrubbed a hand over my face and felt the grit of the day under my palms.
She’d looked happy—nervous, yeah, but proud. Like she was finally breathing air that belonged to her. Jax had done right by setting her up there, even if he didn’t realize how close that put her to the fire.
I leaned back against the headboard, the familiar ache in my chest settling heavy.
The craving for a cigarette hit me then—sharp and almost physical.
I reached for the lighter instead, rolling it between my fingers.
The metal was warm from my pocket and smooth from years of use.
I flicked it open once. Flame caught, hissed, and died. Again and again.
It helped. Giving my hands something to do besides remember what she felt like pressed against me.
I’d met Jax when he was seventeen and Alanna was nine. She’d been a sweet, funny, smart-mouthed kid who’d hung around when we were fixing code or rebuilding engines, bringing us lemonade like it was her job. Adorable, always smiling, and soft around the edges.
She idolized her brother, but they’d grown up in a home with parents who cared more about appearances than affection. And Jax had refused to conform to their expectations for him—which meant their relationship had deteriorated to outright disdain by the time he was an adult.
I’d only lived thirty minutes from them, and despite being five years older, Jax and I became best friends.
And when he turned eighteen, he’d moved out of his parents’ house and in with me.
But he’d stayed close and spent as much time with Alanna as he could.
I only saw her from time to time, and I barely noticed her growing up.
When Jax turned twenty-one, Kane and Edge founded the Redline Kings, and Jax and I were patched in as original members. That was the last straw for his parents, and they’d forbidden Alanna from seeing him.
She was their shining star, the perfect child who was impressive and did exactly as they expected.
Except when it came to Jax. He and Alanna continued to meet in secret, never letting their relationship wane.
I’d been with him on a few of their visits until Jax and I relocated to Crossbend when she was around fourteen.
Before Jax’s wedding, I hadn’t seen Alanna in over six years. Six years of thinking of her as Jax’s kid sister and barely remembering what she looked like when I’d last seen her.
Nothing could have prepared me for what came next.
One minute, I was simply standing next to Jax at the altar, and the next, my world was turned upside down. Alanna walked down the aisle, and for the first time in my life, I forgot how to breathe.
I didn’t recognize her at first, but then I remembered Jax telling me that she was the maid of honor.
After double blinking to make sure I wasn’t imagining things, my eyes raked over her as she sashayed toward us.
No longer was she that sweet kid I used to sneak suckers to, or the gangling tween who’d had a cute crush on her brother’s friend.
She was a woman. Gorgeous, curvy, confident. And so fucking dangerous.
She’d smiled, eyes meeting mine for a second, and it was like a punch to the gut.
My body didn’t give a shit that she was off-limits.
Heat flooded my veins, and I desperately hoped that the growing bulge in my pants wasn’t visible to the guests.
I hadn’t found a woman who’d stirred my interest since my early twenties.
But truthfully, I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever reacted like this. Nothing had ever hit me like that look.
I’d told myself it was because I hadn’t been with a woman in so long. And it was a shock to see how much she’d changed during the time gap, a surprise because Jax’s sister had grown into a beautiful woman. I’d tried to brush it off as nothing.
It didn’t help that I couldn’t take my eyes off her during the ceremony. Then when the reception rolled around, she’d come over to say hello, and the lies went up in flames.
Her laughter was lower now, richer. Her voice had that soft rasp that settled right in the base of my throat. She’d smelled like vanilla and clean, warm skin that no perfume could fake.
She’d teased me about being quiet—the same way she used to when she was a kid. But the smile behind it had been different. The kind that lit a match to things better left dark. That could burn loyalty and trust to ashes.
I’d said something back, something dry and harmless, but when she blushed, I’d felt the world tilt. One second, I was fine, and the next, I was fighting to keep my expression blank because my body had gone full mutiny again.
When she’d laughed another time, soft and breathless, I’d felt a craving to hear that sound every damn day, one that was even stronger than the pull of smoke. Cigarettes. Alanna. Same thing, different kind of poison.
That was the moment when everything changed, and she was suddenly mine. The shift was permanent.
And I was angry as fuck about it.
Because Alanna wasn’t mine and never would be. She was Jax’s blood. His baby sister. And betraying a brother would be like ripping off my patch and shredding it to pieces.
The Redline Kings weren’t just a group of guys who rode motorcycles and wore matching leather vests. We were a brotherhood built on loyalty, honor, and trust. We lived by a code and had our own brand of justice. We were chosen family. My only family.
I stared at the carpet, listening to the faint hum of the AC filling the silence. The metal lighter snapped shut in my hand.
Jax had once told me that he didn’t want Alanna to be touched by this life. She was family, and we would protect her, but he thought she was too soft and innocent to be a part of our world. He was afraid it would tarnish or break her.
But that wasn’t the real problem. He didn’t need to worry about the world; he needed to worry about me.
Feeling restless, I stood and crossed to the window. The parking lot below glowed under the floodlights. Several bikes gleamed beside mine. Beyond the fence, the road stretched dark toward the coast.
The need to ride tugged hard. The road always brought me peace. But it was temporary because eventually, I’d have to return. Sometimes it was more like the quiet before the next storm.
However, I hadn’t let it sweep me away since I’d freed myself from hell. I was always in control. You lose it once; it could cost you something permanent.
But here I was, right on the line now.
Every image of her—the way her hair had brushed her shoulders, how she’d looked at me when she thought I wasn’t watching, the warmth of her body against mine when she hugged me—was gasoline poured over the kindling I’d been sitting on since that wedding.
I wanted to believe it would fade. That the obsession would burn itself out.
Needed to believe that this was something else. That it wasn’t raw and wrong and…fucking inevitable.
I’d seen men lose everything because they couldn’t draw the line. I’d helped bury some of them.
But standing there in the dark, replaying the way her voice had wrapped around my name, I knew I’d already put a toe across it.
I wasn’t even sure there was a fucking line left to hold.