Chapter Seven
Logan
I can't forget, I'm drowning in these memories
It fills my soul with all the little things
And I can't cope, it's like a death inside the family
It's like she stole my way to breathe
Don't try to tell me it stops hurting
Don't try to tell me she ain't worth it
- ‘You Don’t Know Her Like I Do’ Brantley Gilbert
We have church this morning, and for the first time in years the club is the last place I want to be.
Normally, Sunday mornings here feel like solid ground.
I thrive on the routine, the familiar smell of leather and oil in the air, the low rumble of brothers’ voices before we call order, the weight of responsibility that comes with sitting at the head of the table.
But right now, my head’s too full of last night.
Seeing Kenzie again was bad enough. Watching that douchebag in the bar lay his hands on her like she was his to touch… it did something to me. A kind of slow, deliberate burn in my gut that hasn’t cooled since.
It was easier when she was gone. Easier to have Dom check in on her now and then, make sure she was doing alright from a distance, and then put her back in a mental box where she couldn’t get to me.
But running into her… seeing her laugh with someone else, dancing, leaning in close… I can’t stomach it.
I may have been the one who ended it, but Mackenzie Bersell is the only girl who ever broke my damn heart.
I’ve been with other women since, sure. Plenty of them.
But not one has come close to making me feel the way she could with just a look, that electric pull, like the rest of the world went quiet and I could only hear her breathing.
Kissing her last night was a mistake, but one I walked into willingly.
I told myself it was about shutting her up, or proving a point, or making sure she knew I still had her number memorized in my bones.
Truth? I couldn’t stop myself. And now all I can think about is doing it again.
Having her under me, nails in my back, saying my name in that breathless way that used to undo me.
She’s like an itch I can’t scratch without bleeding.
The only problem is… I might die if I do.
I push through the main room of the clubhouse, the heavy scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke hanging in the air. A couple of club girls are passed out on the couch, one with her hair tangled in the fringe of a throw pillow. I shake my head and keep moving.
The back room is already buzzing when I step in.
Every head turns toward me, and like always, there’s that brief, heavy silence before I take my place at the front.
I remember my first time leading church after my old man passed me the gavel.
I was scared shitless, trying to keep my voice even, wondering if they could see my hands trembling.
That day, I swore I’d never let them doubt me again.
Now I stand with my shoulders squared, knowing every man here would follow me into hell if I asked.
With Jimmy as my VP and Cain as Sergeant at Arms, we’re solid. Strong. Untouchable… or at least we want to believe that.
Problem is, no matter how big you get, there’s always someone looking to cut you down.
And now, there’s noise about a ghost from the past.
“I called church because we have a ghost popping up that seems like they’re ready to start some trouble,” I say, scanning the table.
“Most of you weren’t around when we had issues with this club, but you’ve heard the stories.
The Savage Knights seem to have reestablished, and they’ve got a vendetta to settle. ”
I let it sink in. No flinches. No murmurs. Just the kind of stillness that means they’re listening.
“I wasn’t around when this went down, so I brought in someone else to shed some light.”
I nod to Dom. He opens the door, and my father steps inside.
The shift in the room is immediate. Every man stands. Respect, pure and simple. Twisted was President long before me, and he earned every inch of that title.
He joins me at the head of the table and starts talking, his voice even but weighted. When he gets to the part about finding my mom at the Savage Knights’ clubhouse beaten, raped, promised as payment to some piece of shit VP my fists clench so tight my knuckles ache.
I’ve never liked thinking about anyone hurting her. I like it even less knowing who it was and what my father had to do to make it right.
When he tells them about killing Preacher, the Knights’ President, I see a flicker of something in the brothers’ faces. Not fear. Not shock. Something closer to respect.
Once he’s done, I take over again. “From what Matt from our Carson Charter told me, the Savage Knights are starting to gain power again. We thought they were done, but something’s given them a second wind.
As far as I’m concerned, the score was settled a long time ago, but there are whispers they’ve got unfinished business.
The threat isn’t serious enough for a lockdown, but I want eyes open.
Know where your people are. If this turns into more, you’ll hear it from me first. Dismissed. ”
Chairs scrape. Boots hit the floor. My father lingers, watching me. “Your mother’s on edge,” he says.
“Tell her I’ve got it handled.” I mean it. I’d burn the world down before I let anything touch my family.
He claps a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm. “Sometimes you can’t stop the car from going sideways. That doesn’t define you. How you handle it afterward does.”
I nod. I know he’s right, but it’s easier said than done.
Alison’s voice cuts through the last of my thoughts. She steps into the doorway with a folder. “Monthly reports. Also info on our new employee so Dom can run a check. She starts tonight.”
“You can’t have her start till we vet her. You know that.” My tone is sharp.
“I know. But this is different. Shaina vouched for her.” She smiles, and I already feel the beginnings of a headache.
No.
“You better not be talking about—”
“I’m talking about my awesome new bartender Mac,” she says. She grins at my dad. “You should come meet her, Uncle T. She’s the best.”
By the time she walks off, laughing, I’m two seconds from going after her. My dad stops me with one look.
“Kenzie? She’s back?”
“Yeah. Saw her at the club the other night. They think it’s funny. It’s not.”
“Why’s it a problem? Thought you broke it off.”
“I did.” That’s all I give him. No one knows why, and they’re not going to.
He reminds me that I’ve got no authority over Ambrosia. Tells me to either let it go or deal with it. Then, like it’s nothing, he leaves me standing there with my own damn thoughts.
Mackenzie is back in my life. And if I can’t kick her out, maybe I need to make her want to leave.