Chapter 12
Ink
Five years later, I was past my eyeballs in club shit. I’d taken lives without batting an eye. I’d sold drugs and guns to sleazy, low-life assholes. And I’d fought my way into an officer seat, burying myself in the club. In this life.
I proudly wore the Road Captain patch on my chest.
I’d gotten my ass locked up a year after I got patched into the club. And I continued to make sales inside, earning the club money and taking out other prisoners Sabotage put a hit on.
When I had gotten out three years later, Sabotage was the president, and they gave me Sabotage’s previous position: Road Captain.
And another surprise waiting for me when I got out? Johnny was prospecting—his official road name now being Ghost since he’d proven how fucking stealthy he could be despite his size.
His enemies never saw him coming.
Ghost and I never heard from Reina again—not since the day she left. He was still pretty fucking sour over it five years later. And on top of his sister abandoning him, his parents had divorced. His mother was a fucking train wreck—one he had to always tread carefully around. His father was a grade-A douchebag, though that really wasn’t any kind of news to anyone.
But when I went five years without any kind of contact with Reina, I thought it would forever remain that way. I fucked my way through an obscene number of women to try to get the thought of her out of my head. I drank myself sick most nights in the hopes that I could sleep without her teary-eyed gaze haunting me in my dreams.
So, when she showed back up at the clubhouse five years after she left, her brown hair a mess, her glasses missing, little clothing, and no shoes on her fucking feet? I was blown the fuck away—shocked. Relieved that she was alive.
And then pissed.
Royally fucking pissed.
Because she had come to me for help .
My brother had done exactly what I had warned her he would do.
He fucking ruined her.
And now she was expecting me to pick up the pieces.