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  To my sons.

  It’s us against the world.

  I am pieces of all the places I have been and the people I have loved. I’ve been stitched together by song lyrics, book quotes, adventure, late-night conversations, moonlight, and the smell of coffee.

  —Brooke Hampton

  PROLOGUE

  Clover

  Age Ten

  SITTING next to my baby brother, Asher, bag of candy in my hand, I dangle my legs off the seat and glance around the police station, while my mom sits at the front desk, speaking to the lady there. Something about trying to get one of my uncles out of trouble, or something. Nothing new there. I know my mom is an important woman, and she helps a lot of people. I also know that my dad and his friends ride motorcycles and seem to get into a lot of trouble together. Everyone calls my dad Sin, but Mom calls him Dex. To me though, he is just Daddy. Mom rides too, which I think is really cool. I haven’t seen many other women who ride, but I know that when I’m older, I’m going to. I’m going to be just like my mom.

  Distracted with people-watching, it’s too late when I realize my brother has wandered outside and into the street. Without thinking, I dash out after him, knowing that it was my responsibility to look after him while Mom was busy.

  “Asher!” I scream, about to run after him when a lady snatches him up off the road and into her arms. She’s wearing a uniform, and when she comes closer I realize she’s a police officer.

  She places Asher down in front of me. “You should never go near the road without an adult,” she tells him gently, and gives me a soft look. “Are you okay?” She must see the impending doom on my face because I know my mom is going to kill me when she realizes I almost let my brother get run over.

  I nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She grins. I’ve never met a nice police officer before, and I don’t know what to make of it. The only other times I’ve seen them, they were being mean to my parents and weren’t too kind to me either. They’ve come to our home a few times, and it’s never a pleasant visit. I know they don’t like my family, but I don’t really know why. Daddy always tells me to stand behind Mom when they come, not him, because they usually try to arrest him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a police officer smile at me before. It takes me a few seconds, but eventually my manners kick in and I smile back at her. “Thank you for saving my brother.”

  “I was fine,” Asher tells me, an evil scowl on his face. “I was just crossing the road to get more candy.”

  “You almost got run over,” I chastise. “You’re not old enough to be walking around on your own. Mom isn’t going to be happy.”

  “It’s okay, you are both safe now,” she says, leading us back into the police station.

  “I didn’t know women could be police officers,” I admit to her. The officers who have come to our door have always been men.

  She stops in her tracks and turns to look at me. “Women can do anything men can do,” she says with a wink. “We do need more women on the force though. It is a male-dominated field.” She pauses and then adds, “So there are much more men than there are women.”

  I eye her gun.

  “I think it would take a special kind of lady to be a cop,” I think out loud.

  “That’s very nice of you to say,” she says, smiling down at me. “You do have to be pretty strong, but you also have to have a lot of heart. There’s so much going up against you every day, and it’s not always easy.”

  “I know someone like that,” I tell her, thinking of my mom.

  “Do you?” she asks, warmth in her blue eyes. “Maybe you should tell them to join.” She touches my arm and adds, “Or maybe she could join when she’s older.”

  Does she mean me?

  I mean, I am pretty strong, and I do have a big heart.

  Mom and Dad tell me that all the time.

  Maybe I could be nice to people that cops usually aren’t nice to.

  People like me.

  We walk back inside, but I can’t take my eyes off the policewoman.

  She carries herself with such purpose and power, but she was also kind to us today.

  Until this moment, I never knew a police officer could be both.

  ONE

  Thirteen Years Later

  RUSHING to the police car, I slide in and wait for my partner to get us on the road and out to the action. After getting a call for a suspected burglary, adrenaline fills me as I finally am able to do more than push paper at the station. I tap my foot impatiently as Jenks takes his sweet ole time, eating the last of his doughnut and wiping his sugary hands on his uniform before turning on the engine. The man couldn’t be more of a walking stereotype if he tried, with his slightly overweight appearance, balding head, and love for sweet treats.

  We’re complete opposites. He’s one of those cops who has lost his passion and enthusiasm for the job and just collects a paycheck until he can access his pension. He probably doesn’t even remember why he joined.

  I, on the other hand, entered the police force full of ambition, excitement, and determination to make a change in this world. I wanted to be a heroine. I wanted to make a difference, no matter how big or small. I wanted to go above and beyond. However, if I’m being honest, this job isn’t what I thought it’d be. I pictured myself being out in the field, being challenged every day, both physically and mentally. But for the most part I’ve been sitting behind a desk, which is slowly sucking the life out of me.

  “Are you ready, Black?” Jenks asks me as we stop outside a dark two-story house. “Remember, stay behind me, and do as I say.”

  I grit my teeth. I’m not the best at following orders, especially from someone like Jenks, but I’ve learned that being a new recruit, there’s nothing much I can do for now other than keep my mouth shut and do what I’m told.

  “I will follow protocol,” I reply, sliding out of the car, hand on my gun.

  “That’s not what I asked,” the bastard replies. For some reason he thinks he is the boss of me and can tell me exactly what to do.

  “You just stay behind and let me handle this,” he continues.

  “We’re supposed to be a team,” I fire back. “I’m not your little minion, Jenks.”

  He makes a sound of irritation but says nothing further.

  The street is quiet and deserted, what you’d expect on a weekday night in this neighborhood. The owners of the home are away, but when their alarm went off, the neighbors called 911, assuming someone had broken in. It could just be a false alarm, but I need to prepare on the off chance that someone really is in there.

  Jenks heads toward the back entrance, checking the door, which is unlocked. I pull out my gun and follow behind him, alert and using all my senses. In my mind I plan how I’m going to take this man or woman down. Maybe I’ll finally get a chance to show off a few of my skills, the ones that made me the top student in the academy.

  We clear all the bedrooms but find the place empty. There is no mess or signs of a burglary, and it doesn’t appear that anything obvious has been taken. Sighing with my shoulders hunching, I squat down when I see something move behind the couch.

  “What is that?” I mutter to myself, glancing over it to see a little black cat sitting there. “They must have left th
eir door open, or something, and a cat got inside.” I holster my gun.

  Jenks groans. “Come on, let’s lock the place up.”

  “We can’t just leave the cat here,” I say to him, grabbing the little beast, checking its collar, where it has a name and address on it. “It doesn’t live here, it lives down the road.”

  “That’s not our problem,” Jenks tells me, tone annoyed. “Put it down and let’s get out of here.” He’s so heartless.

  “I’m going to return him. Come on, Meowth, let’s get you home.”

  I smirk at him being named after a Pokémon and place him on my lap in the car, ready to drop him back where he belongs. Jenks grumbles the whole ride, but I don’t care. There’s no way I was leaving the cat there, and I wasn’t breaking protocol by helping it. It was just an added few minutes of our time.

  This isn’t how I was hoping the night was going to go.

  But I saved a cat.

  That’s something, right?

  I know, I’m delusional.

  Back at the station, I’m stuck writing up the report of our big call, while Jenks is telling the other cops about the cat as he drinks coffee and eats another doughnut. I’m the only woman on shift, and being a rookie officer, the men love to try to push me just to see how much they can get away with.

  “Black, I hear you finally got to see some action tonight,” Officer Basil calls out. He can be a jerk sometimes, and we also like to pretend that he didn’t hit on me on my first day at work. Especially since he is married with kids.

  “More action than you will ever see,” I reply with a smirk. I don’t let them get to me. Little do they know I’m used to much tougher men than they will ever be, and I can give back just as much as I can take.

  Maybe even more.

  I’m here because I want to be, not because I have to be, and I think that’s the difference between me and so many of the other officers. I’ve been a policewoman for six months now, and in that time, I’ve dealt with the most boring things. A ticket for someone driving while on her cell phone. Breaking up a minor fight between two homeless people. The return of a pet lizard when emergency thought it was a lost child. I once got a call for a domestic disturbance, but it turned out the couple just got a little too vocal during their intimate moments. Tonight was the most exciting call I’ve had. And it was a cat. Figures.

  I don’t complain, that’s not who I am, but the boredom is starting to kick in, and I’m getting a little antsy. I need a challenge. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to become a cop in the first place, that and to actually help improve this city I call home. I went against the grain and all that I knew to follow this dream, and I did it because something inside of me told me that this was my calling and this is where I’m meant to be. I followed my gut, my heart over my mind. However, saving a cat wasn’t what I thought the highlight of my career so far was going to be.

  “He’s married; he gets action,” Jenks says, big belly shaking as he laughs. “Just less and less every year, am I right? It’s like as each anniversary piles up, everything else goes down. Sexually and physically.”

  The men all laugh.

  “Don’t you all have some work to do?” I ask them, eyes back on my computer screen. I didn’t use my business degree because I knew I didn’t want to be stuck behind a desk all day, and yet here I am.

  My phone beeps with a message from Cara, one of my best friends.

  I’m coming to stay at your place tonight. Dinner and drinks? If I leave now I should be there when you get off work.

  I reply to her, smiling.

  Sounds perfect.

  I always send her my schedule so we can work around our everyday lives to make time for each other. I grew up seeing her practically every day. It sucks seeing her only once a week or every other week, but I guess I had to adult at some point.

  She is such a good friend to drive the hour just to see me, probably longer if there’s traffic, and I’m grateful. A dose of Cara is exactly what I need right now.

  The sacrifices I have made once seemed worth it. But I don’t know if they are anymore.

  TWO

  “HOW long are you going to keep up this double life for?” Cara asks me over cocktails, her pretty brown eyes pinned on me. I took her to a new bar that just opened up, and I should have known the questions would start coming in. I would do the same if the situation were reversed, and I know it’s because she is worried about me.

  Hell, I’m worried about me.

  “I don’t know,” I tell her, ripping the label off my beer and avoiding her eyes. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Cara. Nothing is going according to plan right now.”

  “You know what that means, right?” she asks, watching me. “Ripping labels off bottles means you’re sexually frustrated.”

  “My virginity is a whole different issue,” I mutter under my breath, forcing myself to leave the label alone. I’m probably one of the oldest virgins in recent times, but sue me if I haven’t met the one I wanted to lose it to.

  “What do you mean, nothing is going to plan? To me it looks like you’ve gotten away with this plan and you should be celebrating. No one knows the truth except me, and I gave you one month before I thought they’d find out, remember?” she presses, sighing. “I still don’t like the fact that Rhett doesn’t know.”

  Rhett is our other best friend, and the man Cara is going to end up with some day. Not that she will admit it. We grew up as a threesome, the best of friends who have always had one another’s backs. As children of the Wind Dragons, we lived a life few would understand, and we bonded over that. However, as a patched member of the motorcycle club, I didn’t want to put Rhett into a place where he had to choose between me and my shit and the Wind Dragons. The less he knows, the better.

  “I don’t like it either, but you know I don’t want to pull him into the middle of this,” I tell her, bringing my beer to my lips and taking a sip. “And yeah, the only reason I’ve been able to pull this off is because everyone has trusted my word.”

  We go quiet at that.

  No one even suspects that I’m doing something other than what I’ve been telling them, because they have no reason to. I’ve never really lied about anything before. I’m usually a straight-up, honest, get-what-you-see kind of girl. But this dream, this job, it was just something I couldn’t bring to them.

  Because it would break their hearts.

  As far as my family and the Wind Dragons know, I’m doing bookkeeping for a firm. Apparently, I got an offer I couldn’t refuse, earning good money for an accounting firm, which is why I decided to accept the job. They were sad when I moved so far away, but they were happy for me. Proud even.

  Which makes this even worse.

  “You can’t keep going on like this,” she points out, as she has countless times before. I know it just as well as she does, but she’s right; it’s like I am living two lives. “I still think we should just come out and tell them the truth.”

  I love how she says “we” like this is both of our bad decisions.

  And that’s why the woman next to me is my best friend. She’s not afraid to tell me what she thinks, but she will also accept my fate as her own.

  I throw back the rest of my beer. “I don’t even know if I’m going to stay here,” I admit. If things don’t change, there’s no way I’m going to want to continue to live here in this small-ass town, away from my family, sitting at a desk. It’s my worst nightmare come to life, just with a badge. “So I need a little more time. There’s no point telling them everything if I’m not going to be working here much longer.”

  “You always have an excuse,” she tells me, picking up her phone from the bar as it rings, her face lighting up. “It’s Rhett.”

  “Hello?” she says into the phone. “Yeah, I’m with Clover.” She pauses. “Nothing, we’re just having a drink and catching up. We might see a movie a bit later.” Glancing at her watch, she adds, “Okay, see you soon,” before hanging up.
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  “He’s coming?” I ask her, surprised. Unlike Cara, it’s not often Rhett will make the drive, usually opting to wait to see me whenever I go home. I know he’s busy with the MC, so I don’t take offense, plus it’s generally easier to keep everything separate when it’s only Cara who regularly visits me here.

  “Yeah, he said he has nothing going on tonight and wants to hang with us,” she says, placing her pink-covered phone back down. “Probably wants to take that new Harley of his for a long ride. How long has it been since he came here last?”

  “About two months. And I can’t blame him. Think he will let me ride it?”

  “Nope,” she replies, a little too cheerfully. “I’m sure he’ll take you for a ride on it though.”

  “Not as fun,” I grumble. “So what’s going on with the two of you, anyway? Still in denial?”

  “We are friends, and that’s it,” she says, avoiding my eyes. “He just became a member, I can only imagine all the shit he’s getting up to, and all the women. I try not to think about it, but it is what it is.”

  “You don’t know that,” I tell her, but even I sound unsure to my own ears. He isn’t committed to Cara, in fact I don’t think they’ve ever addressed the mutual attraction between the two of them, hiding under the best-friends excuse. No one is stupid though; we can all see what is between them, and no one can understand why they don’t do something about it. Still, it’s up to them. You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink, or whatever that old saying is.

  “It doesn’t matter either way,” she replies with a stiff shrug. “I don’t want to lose one of my best friends by trying for something more. It’s meant to be the way it is.”

  I don’t agree with that, but Cara doesn’t agree with what I’m doing with my life either, so I’m just going to call it even.

  We can all live in denial together.