Home > Tracker's End (Wind Dragons MC #3)

Tracker's End (Wind Dragons MC #3)
Author: Chantal Fernando

PROLOGUE

ANNA, who is this?” a blond god calls out.

I step closer to my best friend. When Anna moved back into town, I’d never have guessed I’d be thrust into a world of motorcycle clubs and insanely hot yet dangerous bikers. Nothing is going to be boring around here from now on—that’s for sure. The man who approaches us is probably the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’m not even exaggerating. Playful blue eyes, angular features with a strong jaw covered in stubble, I can see tattoos peeking out from his white T-shirt. I can also see a muscled arm that I imagine wrapped around me.

Yeah, maybe I will start hanging around here more often.

Like, every day.

“Tracker, this is Lana.” Anna introduces us, explaining, “This is one of Rake’s friends.”

I’m still getting used to hearing Anna’s brother, Adam, being referred to by his MC name. I’ve known Adam—I mean, Rake—since I was a young girl. He wasn’t in an MC while he was in high school, but he still caused trouble wherever he went. At heart though, he’s a good guy and cares about his younger sister.

“Nice to meet you, Tracker,” I say quietly, glancing shyly at him.

He smiles slowly. “Pleasure is all mine.”

I have to remind myself to breathe.

“So you’re Anna’s partner in crime?” he asks, moving closer.

I glance at Anna, then back at him. “No. I’m usually the one trying to keep her out of trouble.”

He laughs, rubbing his chest absently. My eyes follow the movement, unable to stop staring at the way his shirt clings to him. “I can see that. Only known her for a while, but I can already see how she starts trouble.”

Anna gives him the finger.

Tracker gives me a look that clearly says See what I mean?

A small smile forms on my lips. “It’s usually her mouth that gets her in trouble.”

“Traitor,” Anna fires back good-naturedly.

“Or because she thinks I need protecting.”

Tracker studies me. “You are kind of small. Cute. It’s hot.”

I duck my head shyly.

“Don’t embarrass her,” Anna chastises, then pauses. “And don’t flirt with her. You have a woman, remember?”

I’m surprised by my disappointment at hearing he’s taken, but I brush it aside. This is not the kind of guy I can trust, that is clear. His flirty, friendly demeanor is clearly a well-practiced act—it’s probably worked on countless women in the past. It won’t work on me though. Nope.

I try to keep my expression impassive as Tracker studies me for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. As if coming to a conclusion, he nods and moves his gaze away from me. “Just being friendly.”

“Well, don’t,” Anna replies. “Come on, Lana, we better get going.”

“Okay,” I murmur, following behind her.

I can’t help myself. I turn around to look back at him.

But he’s not looking at me.

He’s staring at the ground, lost in thought. He almost looks confused, his eyebrows drawn together, as though he doesn’t understand whatever is on his mind.

I wonder what he’s thinking about. I wonder if he’s thinking about me. Not that it matters. He isn’t available.

And I’m probably not his type anyway.

My thought is proven correct when a beautiful woman walks up to him.

His beautiful woman, I realize as she puts her hand against his chest with a seductive look on her face.

She’s everything I’m not. Tall, slim, and dressed in tight leather pants, a black top showing off her toned flesh and shiny red high heels, she’s the epitome of a biker chick.

I look down at my worn jeans, graphic T-shirt, and flip-flops and I keep walking.

I may not be oozing sex appeal like that woman, but that’s just not me. Sometimes you have to know who you are, and who you’re not.

ONE

ONE YEAR LATER

TRACKER

I SEE her.

As usual, she’s standing a little behind Anna, almost hiding. Fuck, she’s shy. It’s cute as hell. Women are usually forward with me—the same way I am with them. But Lana? Her gaze avoids mine as much as it can. I know she wants me. I know lust when I see it; but with her, there’s something more there. She wants more than a fuck. She deserves more. For the last year I’ve tried to stay away from her. I didn’t think I was good for her—oh, and I wasn’t really single either.

I’m still not good for her.

But wanting her—that has stayed constant since the moment I met her.

She’s dressed in a blue top that hugs her petite frame, and jeans that cup her juicy ass. That ass could bring a man to his knees. Feeling myself harden, I shift uncomfortably and force myself to remove my gaze from her. I scan the room, my gaze landing on Allie.

Fuck.

The situation between me and Allie is a huge clusterfuck. A whole fuckin’ mess that I went along with because it was easy. She was here; she wanted me. She knew the lifestyle. Easy.

Allie is the daughter of a fallen member of the Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club. Because of this, we let her stay in our clubhouse, and we look after her. She’s hooked up with a few of the other members, I know, but when her claws landed on me, the bitch dug deep. She wanted to be my old lady, and I let her play the part for a while without giving her the official title. Looking back, I know I didn’t treat her how I would treat my old lady, how I would treat Lana if she were mine. The feelings just weren’t there—and they still aren’t. I was looking for something in Allie that I didn’t find, but I held on anyway. I led her on more than I meant to. Staying with her was me being a selfish fuck, because I should have let her go when our relationship first started going south. Which was right after it fuckin’ began. I have the feeling she knows it won’t work but is hopeful anyway. Whatever it is, it’s a fucked-up situation that needs to be over with.

   
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