Read sample Queen of My Sins

Chapter 1

Leaving Las Vegas is one of the most liberating things I’ve ever done.

I always knew there was a big wide world out there, but my comfort zone kept me close to my loved ones, and blinkered by the security offered by familiarity. I might have acted like a wild child, but that brash, carefree bravado has been hiding a sensitive, gentle side of me that I never wanted to show.

Until now, showing that side meant showing weakness, opening yourself up to hurt and tragedy, and more often than not, a pain that would always stay with you, ingrained in your skin. I’ve seen it. I’ve watched the torment eat away at people until they can’t take it any more, like maggots eating the dead, and I vowed never to let myself get close enough to let anyone do that to me. Keep it friendly, casual.

But my brothers, and more importantly, their girlfriends, their other halves that complete them and tighten our family bonds, have shown me that it is possible to show that vulnerability, you just have to open your eyes for long enough to see who you should really show it to. That is the key.

Tragedy, guilt, and a touch of fear has kept me from spreading my wings and although I knew I couldn’t always live like that, I had to wait for right time, not just for myself, but for my family. My protective older brothers’ sanity was in question if I had given them any more reason to worry. I’d lived under their watch, knowing that whatever mistakes and bad choices I made, they would pick up the pieces and rectify my mess. Childish, I know. But it was easy and safe. Although I know they will worry about me like crazy while I’m gone, this will be good for them too. I need to prove to them that I can stand on my own two feet so they can focus on their own lives, their own futures, and live the happy ever after they both deserve.

Your future is what you make it, and mine future is just starting, on a Harley along the west coast of America.

After six hours on the road, and just one toilet break at the four-hour mark, I have finally arrived in Reno. I would have been more than happy to ride until I stopped, and grab a motel for the night wherever I ended up, but my pushy brothers insisted that I book at least the first night’s hotel stay, as much for their piece of mind as my safety. I had rolled my eyes and huffed out an exasperated breath at them. I’m trying to be grown up here! I wanted to yell.

But I knew their motives, and their logic. And as usual, they were right, stopping now is welcome. Knowing I had somewhere to lay my head after today’s long ride is more welcome than I would have thought. I’ve stopped at a diner type bar just down the road from the hotel I’m booked in at, just to catch up with myself and get something to eat before I check in to my room, where I know I will shower and fall asleep within minutes.

I smile fondly as I think of everyone back home as I spread my road map across the table in front of me, taking a deep breath.

Wow.

After six hours on the road, I’m already a long way from home, and I don’t think I realized quite how many miles span the west coast of America. I’m really a small town girl. Never really thought much further than the Vegas strip. Yes, that means I’m probably very naïve and sheltered but that’s just the way it’s been my whole life. The world doesn’t seem so huge when you’re looking at a map, but on a Harley, it’s epic.

I will not turn back. I will not turn back.

As much as my stomach churns with anticipation, going back is not an option. The whole point of this jaunt is to move forward like everyone else is in my family. I want to make this trip. I really do. I’m ready to spread my wings away from Vegas, see what the world looks like out of it’s timeless walls of lights and riches. But it’s scary in a kind of …

“Uh, excuse me ma’am …” A deep voice pulls my attention from my map, and when I meet the mesmerizing gaze of the tall, dark, handsome, and rather rugged gentleman that has confidently demanded my attention with his presence alone, I raise my eyebrows in shock, and appreciation. I was certainly not expecting to captivated by such potent eyes when I looked up, and he smirks as if being able to read my mind. That little gesture makes creases around his eyes which twinkle with naughtiness. “May I join you?” he asks, his deep voice wrapping around me in a sensual shiver.

“Uh, yes. Of course. Oh, sorry, let me move all this.” I blush profusely, realizing that while he is smirking down at me in all his unexpected perfection, I have serious helmet hair going on and my blonde, crazy curls are plastered to my head with sweat. Great.

I take my bike helmet off the table and start to fold up the map so it’s out of his way. It’s just my luck that it’s the most impossible thing to fold so I crumple it up and shove it in to my bike helmet on the seat next to me, which earns a laugh from him as I flap and fluster with the damn thing.

He places his coffee on the table and slides in to the seat opposite me, still sporting that smirk that makes me want to lean across the table and kiss it fiercely off of his face. “Can I get you something drink?” he asks politely.

“No. I’ve already ordered, thanks.” I smile and run my fingers through my hair, trying to act cool and casually unsticking it from my head, while trying to eye him up and down without making it obvious. He’s wearing a white button-down shirt and ripped blue jeans which look pretty smart on him for something that would be worn so casually, but there’s something about him that I can’t put my finger on. The sharp goatee and smattering of carefully sculpted stubble indicates there’s something rugged about him.

He leans back in the seat, tilting his head a fraction and not hiding the fact that he’s looking me up and down, “That your Harley out there?”

“Yeah.” I beam, looking out of the window to see the sun bounce off the shiny fenders. If there’s anything I’m super proud of, it’s my bike. I might not have had him long, but I’ve always wanted a Harley and he cost me all of my savings. “That’s Hank.”

“Hank?” he chokes out a laugh, and almost drops the cup that he’s just lifted to his lips.

Those lips. Perfectly arched cupids bow lips. God, I seriously hope this guy is all talk and is just messing with me, because if he gives me the come on and asks me to sleep with him, I already know I’m not going to be able to say no.

I want him.

Here. Now. On my bike. I don’t care where.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve seen handsome men. I’ve had handsome men. But this guy must have sprayed on some kind of pheromone that makes it impossible to resist him.

Magic. That’s what it is. Black magic.

“Hank?” he asks once again, interrupting my mental undressing of him.

“Hank the Harley,” I answer with a smirk. “Hank and I are having a little ride out.”

“Oh yeah? Where ya riding out from, darlin’?” I have to stop myself from groaning at the way he calls me ‘darlin’.

“Vegas.”

“You’re a long way from home then. Can’t see that Hank will keep you warm at night …” he raises a brow, leaving the sentence unfinished and what feels like a proposition hanging heavily in the air between us.

I am screwed.

I place my elbows on the table and lean in, resting my chin on my knuckles. “Are you offering to fill that position and keep me warm?” I can’t help myself. I want him. I want to feel his hard body push up against me. I want to taste his lips on mine before his tongue slides between them and plunders my mouth.

Life’s too short for regrets, right? I’m not a slut. I don’t sleep with many different people on a regular basis. I much prefer to be in relationship if the truth be told. But I’m still a woman, a red blooded woman, with desires and needs, and if two grown adults can’t come together for some mutual gratification … I know, I’m trying to justify this in my head and I don’t need to justify it to anyone. Not even myself. This road trip is about finding what I want and taking it, and as long as it’s not detrimental to anyone, where’s the harm?

He leans forward, mirroring my position, his eyes burning with both desire and surprise at my brazen reply. “Sweetheart,” he pauses, letting his tongue slip over his full bottom lip before sucking in a breath through his teeth. “There would be nothing warm about us, Sugar. We would burn up the sheets and set fire to the air around us.”

Our faces are close, just inches apart, our breaths mingling making my skin heat, and it takes everything I have not to lean in just a little closer and find out for myself what he tastes like instead of imagining.

A deep voice booms from the doorway, making us both jump. “Ruck!”

“Ah, fucking hell,” he curses, banging his palms on the table and sitting back in the booth with a loud sigh and a shake of his head.

I frown and look around at the wall of bikers that have quickly surrounded our table. Here I was, happily minding my own business, and I’m not only cruelly ripped from the closest thing I’ve had to a living fantasy, I’m now stuck in what feels like a pretty dangerous situation. I’ve heard about biker gangs, and although I don’t know much about them, I know they can be dangerous, ruthless, violent …

A tall guy with a beard steps forward, and I watch with wide eyes, too scared to move or say anything. After a couple of seconds of watching him, I notice he has the same mesmerizing eyes as Adonis sitting opposite me. The same jawline. The same crease in his forehead that the man opposite me now has too.

“We’ve been looking all over for you, and I’ve got better things to do with my time. You would think it would be a good idea to come back to HQ after your … meeting.” He pins a superior scowl on the man I now know to be Ruck, but Ruck doesn’t actually seem bothered by what he has to say, and just lets the bossy one continue. “But instead, in true ‘Ruck’ style, the selfish part of your psyche won out and you cost us two hours of riding around to find you here, talking up the pussy, I should have known.” He props his hand on his jutted hip and rolls his eyes.

I sit up at his choice of crude words, and despite my loose thoughts regarding Ruck just a few moments ago, I’m insulted at his referral. “Excuse me?” I screech, banging my palms on the table top.

The guy that I have determined is probably lead biker in this gang or whatever you’d call it, slowly slides his gaze from Ruck to me, a cocky smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. “This doesn’t concern you, sweetheart, pipe down.” He waves a dismissive hand at me. The four other bikers standing around him all chuckle amongst themselves and my blood boils the nerve of these guys.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” I stand up and out of the booth in one swift move and plant myself in front of the mouthy one. I feel Ruck at my back in a split second, but try to ignore him. I didn’t know he was a biker. He wasn’t wearing a kutte like the others and he gave me no indication other than an interest in Hank. “I don’t know what business you have with Ruck here, but it’s rude and insulting to interrupt a conversation and start calling people names. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”

He leans in slowly, with a smile that isn’t kind, and whispers in my ear. “The only thing my mother taught me was how to score crack and fuck whores.” I gasp at his words and in a split second I’m shoved to the side only just managing to keep my balance as Ruck’s fist flies forward landing square on the biker guy’s jaw.

“You don’t talk to her like that,” he rages. “She’s not your call. She’s my call. My decision. Get the fuck out of my life, Ram,” Ruck yells, pushing through the other bikers and striding straight out of the door.

Shit. Six hours in to the road trip and this is a pretty big road hump I’ve hit. Is trouble going to follow me the whole way along the west coast?

The lead biker rubs his jaw and gives a sharp shake of his head before holding his hand out in front of me. “I apologize. It was nothing personal.” He rubs his jaw with his free hand. “I’m Ramsey.” He shrugs, motioning for me to shake his hand by way of smoothing things over I’m guessing. But as well as being a little shaken at the sudden change of tone, I’m still majorly pissed at him.

“Well, Ramsey. You’re an asshole.” I grab up my bag and bike helmet from the seat and turn back at him. Firing a look as fierce as I can muster up at him. “You can keep your olive branch and shove it up your ass.” I jab my helmet hard in to his stomach which pushes the wind out of him, making him cough and step to the side for me to pass. This earns another round of laughs from the rest of the biker guys and I swim with satisfaction while trying to stop my legs buckling from adrenaline.

I push open the door of the diner, stride out and take a deep breath. Shit. That was a pretty intense situation. If I wasn’t so intimidated by that group of badass bikers, I’d go back in and order my coffee to go. But not only am I shaken, I’m pissed off and I still have no caffeine in my system. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter under my breath, making my way back to Hank.

“Christ ain’t gonna help you,” Ruck informs me solemnly. I glance over to the direction his voice comes from, and sigh with a small smile when I see him sitting on his bike. It’s nice. Not as shiny as Hank, of course, but it’s still pretty badass. “I’m sorry about my asshole brother,” he says, hopping to his feet and walking towards me.

His brother. Of course. “No big deal. I’ve come across plenty of assholes like him before.”

“Oh yeah? Is that why you think you’re capable of riding out on your own?” he replies, raising his brows. He clenches his jaw tightly, drawing all the muscles in his cheek together and making those fabulous cheekbones more prominent. “Where are you going, anyway?”

My brows pinch together fiercely, “You just fell in the asshole box, right alongside your brother.” I draw in a sharp breath through my teeth, trying to push down the desire to smack him around the head with my helmet.

“What?” he asks, actually looking like he hasn’t got a clue what he just said wrong or how he insulted me.

“Is that why I think I’m capable of riding out on my own?” I stand to full height, sliding my arm through the visor of my bike helmet and propping my hands on my hips. “I don’t know who you and your brother think you are, or if you think that because I’m passing through, what I presume to be your town, that means you can boss me around, then you can think again. I don’t answer to anyone. I am capable of going anywhere I like, accompanied or alone, as I choose. And I will not be told what to do or belittled by you or anyone else in this town. So may I suggest you get off the alpha horse that all you little ‘Reno’ boys think you are riding on, and open your eyes to the real world. Jeez.” I stomp my foot, breathless after my verbal tirade, and turn away from him sharply, kicking up a cloud of dust between us and head in the direction of Hank. I slow when I hear Ruck laughing softly behind me.

“Will you marry me, crazy lady?” he calls out with a chuckle.

“Screw you, biker boy,” I throw back over my shoulder.

Chapter 2

There’s nothing quite like a couple of arrogant bikers to disrupt even the loosest of plans. Setting out, I never knew how long I was going to stay in Reno, or anywhere for that matter. I had the pre booked night here, but if I liked it, I would have stayed. I know I shouldn’t judge this place by the people in it, but if this is what I’m going to be faced with, arrogant fucking bikers that apparently own the place, then I’ll get a night’s sleep and move on.

Hank pulls me smoothly out of the parking lot and back on to the road. It’s only a short ride to the hotel, and I park up and check in.

I never knew riding for six hours could make my muscles ache like I had run a marathon. Well, I haven’t actually ever run a marathon, but I imagine this is what it feels like. I crave the caffeine I missed out on earlier. I need to eat and drink. Then I need to sleep. So after scorching my skin for nearly an hour in the most welcome bath I’ve had in a long time, I dress in jeans and a tank, and braid my hair so I don’t have to deal with the tangles and subsequent frizz that comes from the curse of having curls.

When I step out of the door, the last thing I expect is to nearly trip over a huge bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates. I look up and down the hallway, to see if whoever left them is still around.

How long have they been here? Are they even for me? No one knows I’m here, except from my brothers, do they?

There’s a folded note on top of the box of chocolates, it’s addressed to

Crazy lady? The biker had called me that back in the parking lot, could this be from him? “Shit.” I curse under my breath. Why would he do this? I gingerly bend down and pick up the note, still constantly scanning the hallway in case someone’s about to jump out at me at any second.

Wow. I wasn’t expecting an apology, that’s for sure.

What time is it now? I check my watch, it’s only eight. Which means he’s in the lobby right now, and will be for another hour. Unless he already got fed up and left in a cloud of dust.

What to do? I mean, he’s a biker. They’re trouble, aren’t they? But I wanted him, before I knew he was a biker. I would have gone with him if he’d asked me to before, wouldn’t I? Maybe common sense would have prevailed and I wouldn’t have been so stupid as my brain was begging me to be. Sometimes I curse my inability to look out for myself. My lack of self preservation.

Why would he go to the trouble of flowers and chocolates if he had a more sinister intention? Surely he could have his pick of women for the night without having to go to this much effort.

The angel on one shoulder is telling me that I should know better, and to turn back around, order room service and scoff the chocolates that he left here for me.

Be a good girl.

Do the right thing.

The devil on the other side is telling me to go have dinner, find out about whatever it is made me curious about him earlier in that diner.

I never was a good girl.

In a snap decision, I turn around, push the door open and stuff the flowers and chocolates just inside the doorway.

It’s only dinner. What’s the worst that can happen in a restaurant? It’s not like I’m going to a motel room alone with him.

As I step out of the elevator in to the lobby, it seems that I’m not nearly as brave as the front I put on. There are no butterflies in my stomach. Instead, there’s a herd of wild horses galloping back and forth like there’s no way out.

He’s still here. Standing with his back to me, hands in his pockets staring out of the glass doors of the entrance. Waiting as promised.

I walk up slowly behind him, taking in the logo on the back of his leather kutte.

Steel Souls MC.

I lift my hand to tap him on the shoulder, but lower it when I realize he can see me in the reflection of the glass. We glance at each other, just for a moment, then he turns around slowly to face me and smiles.

“You came,” he states, running his eyes up and down my body.

“I did.”

“Why?” he eyes me curiously, pursing his lips.

“We hadn’t finished talking earlier.” I shrug.

“Let’s go and finish our conversation then, shall we?” he offers, holding out his arm for me to take.

“Nah uh. You lead. I’ll follow on Hank.” I might be reckless and stupid, most of the time, but there’s still some self preservation in there somewhere. Not that I don’t want to ride with him, wrap my arms around his waist and feel the wind whistle past us.

“You don’t trust me?” he frowns.

“I don’t trust anyone.” I pull my back straighter, clutching my purse a little tighter to feel the hard metal of a handgun. I hated it when D insisted I carry one at all times, especially riding alone. But now I know why he pushed me so hard on it. I do feel safer knowing I have some protection. “Why should you be any different?”

A frown crosses his features, an internal war churning in his eyes, and for a second I sense a raw vulnerability about him. But he masks it quickly, replacing it with a smirk.

“Whatever makes you happy, crazy lady. But just so you know. You can trust me.” He gives a small nod, enforcing his words.

“Good,” I chirp. “I’m starving, let’s go eat.”

We ride for about ten minutes, me following Ruck and taking full advantage of ogling his denim clad ass, before pulling in around the back of a restaurant called The Big Squeeze. Ruck hops off his bike and is by my side before I’ve even had the chance to cut the engine. He extends his hand, helping me to hop off and unclips my helmet, lifting it off and setting it down on the seat. “You know what I just realized?” he asks, looking intensely into my eyes. “I still don’t even know your name.” I open my mouth to tell him and he silences me by holding a finger gently over my lips. His skin is rough against mine, and I fight to hold in the gasp at the intimate feeling that just this small touch sends through my body. “No. Let me guess … Anna?” he asks, tilting his head to the side while studying my features. He doesn’t remove his finger for me to answer so I shake my head gently. He purses his lips before tucking a loose wave of hair gently behind my ear. I swallow loudly, pleased that he’s preventing me from answering him as I don’t think I could form words right now. The way he looks at me feels so intimate, so personal. “Janie?” I shake my head again. “Sharon? Lisa? Angel?” he huffs out a laugh at his his last guess and his eyes darken. “No, you’re not an Angel, are you?”

Holy shit.

He slides his finger downwards wetting the tip as he gently tugs down my bottom lip. He drops his head and leans in so his lips are inches from mine. He makes eye contact, silently asking permission, and I couldn’t say no now if we were stampeded by elephants.

He slowly removes his finger and replaces it ever so softly with his lips. Increasing the pressure, he slips his tongue between my lips and I open up to him. His mouth moves slowly and gently, but there’s so much power in his lips and just as I’m easing in to him, letting him kiss me, he pulls away far too quickly making me groan.

I take a deep breath, composing myself and trying to show him that he can’t control with me just a touch of his mouth.

“Tara,” I say breathlessly earning a quizzical look from him. “My name is Tara.”

He doesn’t say a word, just nods tightly and takes my hand. I hesitate for a second as the practical part of my brain is screaming at me for trusting this stranger. But my reasoning with myself is, that as long as we are in a public place, it’s all good. If he senses my hesitation, he’s chosen to ignore it as he tugs my hand, pulling me to his side and into the restaurant.

We walk right in and Ruck waves off the waitress, who scowls at me for his flippancy. He leads me to a table in the corner, seeming to know where he’s going.

“I’m guessing this is not your first time here,” I say dryly as he pulls the seat out for me. He ignores my comment, pushing the chair in for me like a perfect gentleman as I sit and moving around to the other side of the table. I’m grateful for the distance between us, actually. I know it’s only a table’s width, which I have no doubt he could cross before I could blink if he wanted to, but it’s physical distance which I definitely need after that kiss in the parking lot. Ruck is intense, really intense. He emanates confidence, and surety and … pain. There’s definitely a vulnerability underneath that rough, tough exterior which makes me drawn to him even more. An untouchable, broken, bad boy. Not exactly the kinda person I had planned on meeting along my road trip, and certainly not a complication I need. But, who’s to say this is going to span more hours than just this dinner?

The waitress that Ruck waved off as we entered comes over to out table, placing her palm flat on the table right next to him and shoving her fake tits in his face. I press my lips together to keep from bursting out with laughter. If this is the kind of girl that turns him on then good luck to them.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she drawls, pouting her cherry red lips in an exaggerated effort to draw a reaction from him. “Haven’t seen you for a few weeks. You haven’t been around the club much.” She shoots me daggers out of the corner of her narrowed eyes as if I’m the reason she hasn’t seen him for a while, but brings her gaze back to Ruck with her head tilted and a fake smile, trying to look cute, I think.

“Been busy.” He shrugs, not taking much of interest in her, which makes it even harder for me to keep from laughing. “Can you bring us two beers and we’ll both have the house steak; you know how I like it.” He orders, turning his body away from her, effectively dismissing her.

“Yeah, I know exactly how you like it, sweetheart,” she replies with a smug grin and sly eyes pointed in my direction. It’s the only time through their exchange that I feel a little venom rising in me. Does she really know ‘exactly’ how he likes ‘it’? Has he really fucked this chick? I’m not jealous, am I?

Ruck sighs and rolls his eyes at her implication, showing nothing but annoyance for her. She saunters off in the direction of the kitchen, thinking she has one up on him, and me, with her little comment, but actually, all she did was make herself look like a cheap whore.

“I could’ve ordered for myself, you know?” I admonish.

“I, uh,” he looks at me with a touch of guilt but he pulls the tough man mask back on in a blink. “They serve the best steak here; you wouldn’t want to miss out. Besides I don’t really want to sit here all night while you go back and forth over what you may or may not want on the menu. I know what you chicks are like about counting fuckin’ calories.” He grumbles under his breath, flicking his wrist in dismissal.

“Don’t fucking tar me with the same brush as the whores you hang around with,” I snap, earning a choked out laugh as Ruck’s mouth drops open. “Anyway, I’m vegetarian,” I announce, raising my chin slightly. It’s not true. In fact, I pretty much hate all vegetables. Give me a plate of steak and I’m a happy girl. I just wanted to make a point to him, I won’t be bossed around.

“Oh shit, you’re a fucking lettuce warrior?” he rubs his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “Really? I just don’t understand you lot. Waste of a good cow I’d say.”

“Ruck. Why did you bring me here?” I sigh.

He looks up and meets my eyes with a sorrowful expression. “I’m sorry, Tara. This isn’t exactly going how I’d planned. I, I don’t do this kinda thing, well, like, ever.” He offers a small smile alongside his apology.

“Do what?” I question. Surely he doesn’t mean a dinner date? Has he looked in the mirror lately? There’s no way he’s short of dates.

“This …” he waves his hand between us. “Dinner. Dates. Pretty girls.”

“Yeah, right. Your friend over there seemed to think differently.” I roll my eyes and glance in her direction and she gives Ruck a little wave and winks to top it off. Ugh. What a cheap tart.

“Why did you agree to dinner with me, Tara?” he tilts his head and smiles at me.

“Oh no you don’t, Mr. You didn’t answer my question yet.” I point my index finger at him and narrow my eyes.

“You seem different to all the girls from around here. Okay? And I wanted to apologize for what happened back at the diner. My brother is an ass.”

I nod, agreeing with that fact. “Good. Now we are being honest and dropping the hard man act, which, by the way, doesn’t fool me for a second, I’m not really vegetarian.” I press my lips together to keep from laughing and he chuckles, shaking his head. “I probably like steak more than you do, and ribs, and anything that comes from an animal, actually.”

“You’re a one off, you know that?”

I shrug. “Yep. I know.”

“Shall we start over?” he asks hopefully.

“You wanna go back outside and start over properly?” I reply without realizing what’s coming out of my mouth.

“You want me to kiss you, you just gotta ask nicely you know.” He leans forward, raising his brows with a smirk. Of course, I turn beet red, embarrassed by my forwardness. Usually I would need a skin full of alcohol before being so suggestive. But the spark that bounces back and forth between us is messing with my composure.

Thankfully, the waitress bitch gives me a breather by banging our drinks on the table without so much as a word, and turning on her heels, to stomp off, flicking her bleached blonde hair behind her. Rucks lips twist with a lopsided grin and we both laugh at her tantrum. I just hope she doesn’t spit in our food.

Our food was brought to us by another waitress, and to my happiness (and I think Ruck’s too,) we didn’t see the waitress bitch again. It wasn’t that I felt threatened by her, or even that I liked Ruck enough to be jealous, I just didn’t like her and her attitude, simple as that.

“Damn, girl, never seen a woman inhale a steak like you just did.” Ruck laughs as I devour the last mouthful.

“That was one of the best steaks I have ever had. Just how I like it, melt in the mouth and still mooing,” I comment, noting the glint in his eye from my remark.

“I told ya. Best steaks in the whole of America I recon. Never met a girl that likes her steak almost as red as her lipstick.”

“Ha. Well, I’ll let you know if I find better along my travels,” I say, swigging the last of my beer. Our limited conversation is easy, and even the silences are comfortable too. It’s a weird balance for two people that have really only just met. But as my brother would say, ‘It is what it is.’

“So where are you headed next? You in Reno for a while?” he asks casually.

“Just tonight. I’m moving on tomorrow, maybe to Klamath falls. I’m not sure yet.”

“You’re not worried about travelling on your own?” he eyes me with concern.

I shrug. “A little. But, I’ve seen too many people regret not pursuing their dreams. This is my dream. I have Hank and I have enough contacts to stop with along the way. If I ran in to trouble, my brothers would be here in a shot.”

“You’ve mentioned them a few times. You’re close with your family?”

“Very. When my dad died, my brothers took care of me and my mom. My older brother, Denham, runs a hotel complex in Vegas. He very nearly keeled over when I told him I was leaving on this trip, but he understood why I had to do it.”

He frowns. “You have a brother called Denham?”

“Yes, why?” I mirror his frown.

He takes a breath and eyes me speculatively. “What’s your surname, Tara?”

“Why?” I laugh nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just tell me,” he laughs.

“My surname is King,” I say quietly, nerves playing at the back of my throat.

“Well, fucking hell.” He grins and I exhale audibly. “Your dad was Carter King?”

“Yes.” I frown. How can I be this far from home and someone still knows my family name? “How did you know my dad?”

“Honey, everyone knows your dad. Hell, if you made it public knowledge that Carter was your dad, and Denham is your brother, you wouldn’t have to worry along your whole road trip.”

“Why? I don’t understand.” I say, still confused as to how I can be six hours from home but still be known. Dammit.

“The casinos and gambling houses in Reno keep in touch with the guys down in Vegas. Your dad was a big player, honey. He was well known and well respected.”

I feel my eyes start to sting with tears. It’s been a while since anyone talked about my dad. The boys never really talked about him unless I asked, and mom always tried to tell me stories about him but ended up crying with the sorrow that came with referring to him in the past tense.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you sad,” Rucks says softly, but sits back in his chair, clearly uncomfortable with a crying chick.

“You didn’t. I mean, I’m obviously sad he’s gone, but it’s been a long time. I’m okay.” I wipe a tear from my cheek and run the length of my index finger under my eyes to remove any running makeup. “I didn’t realize he was known so widely.”

He nods but doesn’t comment further, which I’m grateful for. It gives me a chance to breathe deep and gather myself.

“So,” Ruck says, banging his beer bottle down on the table. “I know we didn’t get off to the best of starts, but how do you feel about coming to the club house tonight? There’s a band playing and there’ll be a great crowd there …”

“I don’t know, I …”

“You can ride from here, on Hank. You can leave at any time you want, and I’ll make sure to escort you back to your hotel. What do you say?”

“Won’t your brother mind?” I ask, raising a brow in question.

“No. He can go fuck himself if he does.” Ruck leans forward, resting his upturned hand on the table between us. “Look, I know you have no real reason to trust me, but do you have a reason not to?”