CREEPER
The Demons Inferno MC compound was quiet in the early morning, yet as I opened the front door to leave, the rumble of an approaching bike grew louder. It was a sound I knew well—heavy, steady, and powerful. This bike sounded like it carried the wrath of Oden.
I knew that sound. I knew that bike. Like the only man to ride it, that bike was retired.
I closed the door behind me. My heart thudded hard in my broad chest.
There was only one man who could make an engine sound like a warning and a promise all in one roar.
Beast.
My father.
I swallowed hard and ran a hand through my dark hair. For thirty-two years, I’d learned to read the world through engines and body language, by watching how a man held the throttle or leaned into a turn. Beast taught me that. He was my father, my
