PROLOGUE
Faye
I DON’T know if I should be disappointed in myself for allowing them to get one up on me, or proud that they had to bring in six men to take me down.
Six men.
To kidnap me.
One tiny woman.
Yeah, I’m going to take it as a compliment.
I was leaving the law firm, about to get in my car when they got me. They grabbed me from behind, one man pinning my arms behind my back and pushing me against the hood. Before I could even scream, my wrists were bound behind me, my feet tied, and a sack pulled over my head.
Yeah, I’ve had better days.
Sitting in that van, surrounded by strange masked men—with no idea what they wanted from me—was not easy. I wanted to lash out, fear taking over my senses, but I was able to contain it. I’ve been in worse situations than this and come out alive, and I know that I’ll get out of this one too. After about a thirty-minute drive, I was taken out of the van and carried somewhere. They sat me on a chair and retied my wrists behind me, also bound to the chair so I’d have limited movement.
They haven’t taken the sack off my head, yet, but it’s loose and not heavy, so it’s easy to breathe. I just wish I could see their faces. They’re going to regret the day they tried to fuck with me.
“You cowards are all going to die,” I tell them, pulling on my bindings. If they knew me at all, they’d have put tape over my mouth too, because I’m never going to shut up. I’m very good at talking my way out of situations. All I have to do is bide my time until Dex finds me.
And he will find me.
I have no doubt in my mind that the Wind Dragons will do everything in their power to save me. We don’t lose. And when someone crosses us, we show no mercy.
The sack is suddenly pulled off my head. I grit my teeth and look directly into the eyes of the man in front of me.
I’ve never seen him before, and yet I have to wonder exactly what kind of shit I’ve gotten myself into this time.
“Not even going to buy me a drink before you tie me up?” I ask my kidnapper, unable to help myself.
He makes a sound of distaste, a mixture between a sharp exhale and a scoff. Then, he smirks.
His eyes say I’ve got you now.
I don’t like them.
I’ll let him have his moment though.
I know it won’t last.
ONE
Faye
One week earlier
“WORK” by Rihanna and Drake blasts through the speakers of my iPod dock, and I do a little grinding move with my hips as I walk from the stove to the sink to wash my hands. Another set of hands grabs my hips, as Dex brings his chest up against my back.
“You’re so sexy when you dance,” he murmurs, lips softly touching my neck.
“I’m sexy all the time,” I reply, wiggling my hips against him. The song changes into “Your Number” by Ayo Jay and Fetty Wap, and I turn off the tap and spin around to face my husband, Dexter Black, aka Sin, the president of the Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club.
“Is Asher still sleeping?” I ask, referring to my six-month-old son. I chose the name Asher because it means fortunate, blessed, and happy. Considering my daughter’s name is Clover, I think that the two names go together quite nicely.
“Yeah, although don’t ask me how with this shitty, loud music,” he says, dipping his head for a quick kiss on my lips. This man has been mine for years and years, but every time our eyes connect, I still get butterflies in my stomach. I never tire of seeing him, being with him. It’s a love I never expected to have in my life, a rare gift that most women only dream about.
“This song is great,” I chide, but I reach back and lower the volume all the same.
He kisses me again, this time deeper, his hands squeezing my behind as he pulls me against him. I can feel the rigid outline of his cock through his jeans, and it has me wanting to drop to my knees right here and right now. I run my hand down his body, from his toned chest to his deliciously ripped abs, feeling them through his thin white T-shirt, then stop when I reach the waist of his jeans, my fingers lingering there.
Of course Clover chooses that moment to wander into the kitchen, her ponytail of black hair bobbing with each step. She pins us both with hazel eyes, identical to mine.
“Ew, Daddy, get a room.” She pauses, pulling a face, her upper lip rising. “But leave Mama in the kitchen, because I’m hungry.”
I laugh at that and say, “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes.”
She sits down at the table, carrying her little bag with her. She opens it and pulls out her crayons and mini coloring book. Asher decides to wake up and starts crying out from his crib in his bedroom.
“I’ve got him,” Dex says, kissing me again quickly before leaving. He comes back moments later, our little bundle of joy wrapped in his arms.
“Asher is so cute,” Clover says, glancing up affectionately at her baby brother. Dex sits next to her, so she abandons her crayons and gives Asher all of her attention. She kisses his plump little cheek and says in a soft voice, “You’re going to be the most loved baby in the whole world.”
My breath hitches.
In this second I know that even in my dodgy parenting style, somewhere along the way, I’ve done something right. I might have gotten knocked up in a one-night stand with a biker, raised my daughter with said biker and his club—not the most conventional upbringing—but I did okay.
I’ve raised a little girl with a heart even bigger than mine.
I’m sitting at a table, surrounded by all my girls—the women of the Wind Dragons. We’re shooting the shit and snacking on chips and dip. Steph is also here, the girl Ronan has started dating. I don’t know her well, but I already like her. She’s a very modest, gentle type, and I like saying shit to make her feel awkward. She goes bright red at the mere mention of sex, something we’re always talking about—at least when the kids aren’t around. The men are all outside, building a playground for the kids, and the kids are watching a movie. All except Asher, who is fast asleep in my lap.