5. Morgan
MORGAN
“You can stay here as long as you like, you know.” Ash shoots the basketball at the old hoop barely hanging onto the garage wall. He got it for his thirteenth birthday, and we’ve spent many, many hours out here talking about everything and nothing.
Setting the world to rights like only teenagers can.
I wish we were doing that now.
I wish all I had to worry about were upcoming exams and which boys looked hottest on the football team.
“Thanks,” I say, stealing the ball from him and taking a shot. Once again it bounces off the rim and Ash scoops it up. I can’t shoot for shit today.
Hardly a shock considering I lose my home in two days.
“Morgan!” Ash walks over to me and nudges my shoulder. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Yeah, and thanks.” I nudge him back. “But I don’t want to outstay my welcome.”
“Fuck off.” He scowls. “You know that’ll never happen.”
It’s true. His family are the best, and they’ve done nothing but make me feel at home here when everything around me is going to shit.
But I can’t stay. Not now. “You won’t have the space soon,” I say softly.
I don’t want him to think I’m anything other than grateful for everything they’ve done for me. “Not with your nan coming to stay.”
His face goes through a few expressions before settling on determination. “We’ll make it work.”
“She’s dying, Ash. She needs peace and quiet and her family around her.”
“She’ll get that with you here.” He’s got that stubborn set to his jaw that usually makes me give in, but I can’t this time.
I’ve seen the toll this is taking on his mum, and as much as I know she’d never kick me out, I can’t add to her stress by staying here and being another mouth to feed and find room for. I shake my head. “I can’t stay.”
He drops the ball, hands out to the side. “Well, where the fuck are you going to go?”
I have somewhere in mind, but he’s going to hate it. “I’m going to join the Wild Wolves.”
By the look on his face, you’d think I’d said I was running away to join the circus. Actually, I think he’d prefer that idea.
It takes him a good few seconds to find his voice. “Are you fucking crazy?”
“I—”
He starts to pace back and forth. “They’re criminals, Morgan. Criminals. They have that huge fucking house. Who knows how they make their money?”
“They run a garage in town.”
“And you think that pays for them all to live there?” He raises his eyebrows like he’s inviting me to object, but I don’t. He’s probably right, but at this point I really don’t care. “And what do you even know about joining a motorcycle gang anyway?”
“It’s a club, not a gang .”
He rolls his eyes.
“And I’ve read stuff.” Everything I could get my hands on.
“Read stuff?” He repeats, incredulous. His eyebrows rise so high, I’d laugh if I didn’t think he’d punch me. “I know you ride a bike, but owning that”—he jabs a finger at the bike in question—“and joining those lunatics are two very different things.”
“I know that. I’m not stupid.” I try not to raise my voice because I’ve sprung this on him out of nowhere.
It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it.
Every time I see Lynx Harper ride through town, I imagine how it would feel to ride right alongside him.
To belong to a group of people as tight knit as they all seem to be.
I want it.
And not because I want to fuck the president, because I’m not naive enough to think that’ll ever happen. But I crave the closeness, the camaraderie.
Kind of like what Ash has with his big, loud, fabulous family. And I know they’d take me in with open arms, but I’d still feel like an outsider. Like they were only doing it because I have nowhere else to go.
I’d have to earn my place at the club. I’ve read enough to know that if I managed to get accepted into the Wild Wolves, then there’d be no doubt that I’d earned it.
Of course, that’s a really big if .
They could well take one look at me and tell me to fuck off. But I have to try.
If it doesn’t work out, then I’ll probably have to take Ash up on his offer for a while.
But I really hope they give me a chance.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Like a heart attack.”
We have a silent standoff that seems to last a lifetime before Ash sags against the wall. “Have you ever known them to take in anyone local?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “The whole time they’ve been here, it’s always been outsiders.”
It’s true.
“There’s always a first time.” I try and sound more confident than I feel.
“Fuck, Morgan. You’d have a better chance of joining the Feral Beasts.”
We both shudder.
“Forget I said that.”
Yeah, I’d rather live in the woods than join those fuckers.
I extend my foot and poke his shoe until he looks up at me. “It’ll be okay.”
“Will it? What about your job? Your uni course? We’re supposed to start back in a couple of months.”
I shrug, because on that I’m not exactly sure. The job I could care less about, I’m only there to fund uni. But I’ve got a year left on the degree I’m studying for and I really want to finish it. Surely, they’d let me?
“I might not even get in.”
“But you want to.” It’s a statement more than a question.
“Yeah. I do.”
Saturday dawns bright and clear, the sky a beautiful shade of blue that seems at odds with the miserable expression on Ash’s face. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours trying to talk me out of approaching the Wild Wolves, but my mind’s made up.
At least it was up until ten minutes ago, when I wheeled my bike out of the garage and everything became a little too real.
I can’t back out now, though. I’d regret it, I know I would. The worst they can say is no, right? At least I hope it is.
“You’re really doing this?” Ash says, running a finger over the handlebars.
“I am.”
“Jesus Christ, Mor.” He grabs me and pulls me in for a hug so tight I struggle to breathe. “Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t let them force you into anything, just so you can be part of their stupid club.”
I don’t tell him that from what I’ve read, that’s exactly what’ll happen. I just hug him back.
“Keep in touch, yeah?”
I nod.
“Today. I need to know that you’re not dead.”
“Yes, mum.” I roll my eyes, but a tendril of fear creeps up my spine.
It’ll be fine.
With my rucksack on my back, I swing a leg over my bike.
“You just gonna rock up to the front gates and knock?”
“Pretty much.”
Ash looks sceptical and I don’t blame him.
“Be safe.”
He slaps my shoulder and steps away as I start the engine, revving it a little and making him smile.
I leave him on the driveway as I turn onto the road and head out of town, really hoping that I’m not making a huge mistake.
It’s a thirty-minute ride from Ash’s house out to the Wild Wolves’ compound. It feels more like five.
Maybe this is a bad idea.
Nope. You’re just nervous, because you don’t know what to expect.
Is that all it is? Or is it my lizard brain trying to tell me something?
Either way, it’s too late now because the gates to the compound loom up ahead and I’ve already been spotted.
Two men guard the gate. Or at least that’s what I think they’re doing. The pair of them are sat on a picnic table off to one side, watching me.
Neither of them makes a move to open the gate or talk to me.
Awesome.
I park my bike and turn the engine off.
“I’ve come to see Lynx Harper.” I don’t raise my voice or anything, but I can just about see the house from here and it seems like every fucker in the yard turns to look my way.
I can feel their eyes on me, and a bead of sweat trickles down my back.
“He expecting you?” one of the guys asks. I don’t recognise either of them.
“No.” I’m pretty sure they’re about to tell me to fuck off when they stiffen, look back toward the house, then nod.
Weird.
Maybe they’ve got hidden earpieces or something.
“It’s your lucky day.” He looks at his mate and grins. “Or not.”
They both get up, unlock the huge gates, and pull them open.
“Head for the house.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, my heart beating like it’s trying to escape, because everyone’s still staring at me. It’s like they’ve all stopped whatever they were doing to focus on me, and I’ve never felt more exposed or vulnerable than I do right now.
As weird as it sounds... I feel like prey .
Maybe Ash was right.
Maybe this is the worst idea I’ve ever had and I’m going to die.
Get a grip Morgan. They might do some shady shit, but they’re not going to kill you for riding into their compound.
At least I really fucking hope not.
Starting my bike again, I take a slow ride forward, trying not to panic as I hear them close the gates behind me.
He’s not here.
It’s my first thought as I get close enough to scan the faces still watching me. The expressions are less than welcoming and my stomach sinks. There’s no way they’re going to let me join them. What the fuck was I thinking?
Can’t turn back now though.
As much as I want to, pride won’t let me leave until I’ve done what I came here for. At least I hope it’s only my pride.
Running out of road, there’s nothing I can do but park my bike alongside a row of others—all of them newer and shinier than mine.
“A 2006 Super Glide.”
I turn to find out who said it and inhale sharply.
Callum Holt.
Wild Wolves’ vice president. Warm brown skin, and eyes so dark I get lost in their depths for a beat too long before I snap out of it.
He’s a big guy, maybe six foot three, with shaved hair that’s as dark as his eyes.
“Yeah,” I manage to pull from somewhere, proud when my voice doesn’t waver. “Restored her myself.”
He’s intimidating as hell as he walks towards me, but then he smiles and, Jesus fuck , it’s like the sun coming out. “Nice.”
I wonder if Ash’s ever seen him smile like that. It’d explain the way his cheeks flush whenever I mention his name. Then Callum crosses his arms, expression sobering, and I’m back to feeling out of my depth.
“What are you doing here, Morgan?”
He knows my name.
Shit.