Chapter 1 Ghosts of the Past #2
King led her to a small room at the back of the clubhouse, a sparse, utilitarian space with a desk and a couple of chairs. He closed the door behind them, the sound of the latch clicking into place like the sealing of a tomb.
Then he turned to face her, his eyes hard and assessing. "You've got balls, prospect," he said, his voice low and gruff. "Coming here, demanding a place in the club. But balls alone won't keep you alive. You need skills. Loyalty. The willingness to do whatever it takes to protect your brothers."
Rowan met his gaze, her own eyes blazing with determination. "I have all of that," she said, her voice steady. "And more. I'll do whatever it takes to earn my place here. To prove myself to you."
King's lips twitched, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Prove yourself to me?" he said, his tone mocking. "And why would you want to do that?"
Rowan's heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. This was it. The moment of truth. The moment she'd been waiting for her entire life.
She ripped it off like a bandaid.
"Because," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I'm your daughter."
King went still, his eyes widening in shock. For a moment, he just stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then he let out a low, harsh laugh, the sound sending a chill down Rowan's spine.
"My daughter?" he said, his voice full of disbelief. "I don't have a daughter. And even if I did, she sure as hell wouldn't be a prospect in this club."
Rowan's heart sank, her stomach twisting with disappointment and anger. She'd known this moment wouldn't be easy, but she hadn't expected outright denial.
"I am your daughter," she said, her voice growing stronger with each word. "My mother was Elena Matthews. You knew her twenty-five years ago, when you were just a soldier in the club. She got pregnant with me, but you left her before I was born."
King's face darkened, his jaw clenching with anger.
"I don't know what game you're playing, girl," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
"But I suggest you stop now, before you get yourself hurt.
I don't have a daughter, and I sure as hell don't have time for wannabe biker chicks with daddy issues. "
Rowan flinched at the harshness of his words, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. But she blinked them away, refusing to show weakness in front of this man who'd already taken so much from her.
"I'm not playing a game," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "I'm telling you the truth. And if you won't believe me, then I'll just have to prove it to you."
King's eyes narrowed, his gaze boring into hers like he could see straight into her soul. "And how do you plan to do that?" he asked, his tone full of challenge.
Rowan squared her shoulders, her chin lifting in defiance. "By earning my place in the club," she said, her voice ringing with conviction. "By showing you that I'm worthy of being your daughter. Of being a Blind Jack."
King stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded, a single, sharp jerk of his chin.
"Alright, prospect," he said, his voice gruff. "You want to prove yourself? Then let's see what you've got. But don't say I didn't warn you. The road ahead won't be easy. And the Blind Jacks don't have room for weakness. You either ride with us, or you get left behind. There's no in-between."
Rowan met his gaze head-on, her own eyes blazing with determination. "I'm not afraid of a little hard work," she said, her voice steady. "And I'm sure as hell not weak. I'll do whatever it takes to earn my place here. To make you see the truth."
King's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile flashing across his face.
There was something in his eyes—a reluctant admiration, perhaps, or maybe just a flicker of recognition that caught Rowan off guard.
For a moment, she saw something else beneath the hard exterior—a vulnerability, a hint of emotion that he quickly masked.
"We'll see about that," he said, his tone full of dark promise. "Welcome to the Blind Jacks, prospect. Now let's see if you have what it takes to survive."
With that, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving Rowan alone with her thoughts and her fears. But she pushed them down, locked them away in the dark corners of her mind.
She'd come too far to back down now. And she wasn't going to let anyone or anything stand in her way.
Not even the man who'd given her life and then abandoned her.
She was Rowan Matthews, daughter of Marcus King. And she was going to make him see the truth, no matter what it took.
Even if it meant risking everything she had left to lose.
As she followed King back into the main room, she caught his gaze lingering on Maya and Hunter, a softness in his eyes that vanished as quickly as it had appeared. For all his hard edges and gruff exterior, King clearly cared about them—about all his brothers and sisters in the club.
Reed was waiting by the bar, his intense gaze following her every move.
When their eyes met, something electric passed between them—a current of awareness that wasn't supposed to be part of her mission.
Her mother had trained her for one purpose: a reckoning.
Emotions, attractions, connections—these were complications she wasn't supposed to allow.
And as Rowan watched King move through the room, commanding respect with nothing more than his presence, she felt a strange surge of pride. This was her father. This strong, fierce, loyal man was her blood.
Now she just had to prove it—to him, and to herself.
The challenge ahead would push her to her limits, test her in ways she'd never been tested before. But as she took her first steps into the world of the Blind Jacks, Rowan felt a strange sense of homecoming.
This was where she belonged. Where she was always meant to be.
And nothing—not King's denial, not the club's suspicion, not Reed's unsettling presence, not her own doubts—would stop her from claiming her birthright.
Her place in the family she'd never known.
Her destiny.
Her reckoning.