Rascal's Second Chance

Prologue

Five years had passed since I moved here, running from my former life and the nightmare it had become. At twenty-four, I had walked away from the career I’d been forming and left everything in the past. Nobody would blame me, not after what I’d suffered.

Now I was a prospect for Hellfire MC. I should have felt safe, yet didn’t. Not by a long shot.

I could see the woman across the room eyeing me with a sultry grin on her lips, and my skin crawled. Behind the bar, I should’ve been protected, but women still believed we were meat.

Here in Spearfish, South Dakota, I’d wanted to become invisible, which made joining a motorbike club rather stupid.

But I’d needed brotherhood and bonds. Hellfire provided that.

I had bet on nobody recognising me here.

And so far, nobody had, but this bitch was giving off major ‘fuck me’ vibes. To hell with that.

“You okay?” Jinx muttered as he passed me.

Was I? No. A bitch was blatantly interested, and I didn’t welcome or want it. Many believed that if you belonged to an MC, your sole purpose was to drink and get laid—not in Hellfire MC. Sure, you could do that, but we also ran businesses. Hell’s Fury, the bar, being one of them.

“I’ll serve her,” Jinx muttered when I didn’t answer him, and he nudged me over. Damn this kid; he was the best of all of us.

I didn’t know why I was so agitated tonight, but something in my bones felt unsettled. A sense of dread had followed me around all day. Something was coming, and it was going to upset my orderly life.

“Rascal, go get a break,” Jinx ordered minutes later when I messed up an order.

I nodded stiffly and headed out back. There, I leaned against a wall and lit a cigarette. I quit smoking five years ago, but at times like this, I return to a single smoke. Hell, I had owned this pack since quitting and still had smokes left in it.

My cell rang, and I glanced down at it. My intuition intensified, and nausea clawed at my gut.

“Bit late for a call,” I answered.

“I’m working overtime. Sorry, Shane, Hallie got out. A lawyer dug up fresh evidence; she’s been freed,” my old lawyer, Collin Bruce, stated.

“She’s only done five years!” I exclaimed.

“Yeah, but a cop made a big mistake processing some evidence. Hallie’s been released because of that. I’ve contacted the cops, and they’re already looking at charging her again. The DA is assessing the case to see if he can prosecute without the conflicting facts.”

I ran a hand over my chest, noticing the pain there. “So that murdering cunt walks free?”

“For now. I’ll keep on the DA’s ass.”

“Thanks for letting me know, mate.” I cut the call with little hope. The bitch that tried to kill me five years ago was released. She’d fooled me once, never again. If Hallie attacked me a second time, I wasn’t the man I had been before. And more fool her.