Chapter1
THE DEVIL'S SCARS
'THE ROAD DEVILS MC' BOOK 1
When Zoe Parish clapped eyes on Wolf Connor for the first time in more than six years, her immediate thought was, Goddamn. That man must have made a deal with the devil, because nobody can look that f*****g good without divine – or more probably – dastardly intervention.
He was still tall, of course, still strapping and muscular. His face was hard and handsome, and damned if the lines around his eyes and mouth didn’t look good on him. Speaking of which, his steel-gray eyes were still as scary-as-hell, his mouth the same almost-cruel line that was somehow s****l and sensual, and made women think of it caressing and probing their lips. Both sets.
When he saw her walk into Blue Dragon Ink, he jumped to his feet. Now that startled her. She’d known he was eager as hell to get her here, but that actual leap out of his chair showed her just how badly he needed her. And Wolf wasn’t a man who needed much beyond the club – he never had.
“Zee,” he said, and she noticed how her whole body reacted to him saying her name. Yeah, his voice was the same, too: deep and husky and all sexy-dark. It’s how drinking whiskey naked on a sultry summer night would sound if it could develop the ability to speak. “You’re here.”
“I am.” Zoe set her backpack on the floor next to the front counter, and watched as two-hundred-plus pounds of hot, hard man strode across the floor to her. “I made good time.”
He opened those massive arms and she just stepped on in, let him pull her up and close. Yeah, his chest was as impressive as ever, and she smiled up at him. Holy hell, she’d missed him.
“Lookin’ good, baby girl,” he said, that mouth curled up in a devastating grin as he growled out his pet name for her. “I like the longer hair.”
“Yeah?” She pushed it back and off her face and shoulders. “I was thinking about cutting it. f*****g hassle.”
“Don’t.” Wolf shook his head, and stepped back. “Looks hot. And we need some hot around this place, trust me.”
“I haven’t said yes to your offer, Wolf.”
“But you’re here,” he countered. “So you’re thinkin’ about it.”
“No. I’m here to talk about it.”
“Awful long way to come for a chat, Zee.” He shrugged his shoulders, and she saw the muscles ripple even through his t-shirt. “North Dakota ain’t exactly a hop, skip and a jump from Colorado, is it?”
She stayed silent. Wolf knew the score, and so she saw no need to tell him things he was already totally aware of.
Wolf stared down at Zoe, a bit taken aback at how happy he was to see her, and at how great she looked. Yeah, OK, she also looked wiped out, but several days of driving would do that to anyone. Throw in all the s**t that had been dumped into her life over the past year, and you got one tired, stressed-out woman.
What he was offering her could change things for her for the better, he knew; all he had to do was convince Zee. And truth be told, that wasn’t going to be easy.
“So.” He ushered her over to the sofa, sat her down. “You want to shoot the breeze over a mornin' beer or just get right to it?”
She leaned back, those emerald-green eyes as sharp and whip-smart as he remembered them. “No beer. Hit me with it, Wolf, and I mean all of it. Give me your hardest, best sell.”
“No wastin’ time, huh?”
“Nope. No bullshit, either. You be straight with me. I’ll know if you’re lying to me.” Her smile was disarmingly sweet, and he immediately flashed back to Zee at the age of ten. “I always know when you lie to me.”
“That is the goddamn truth, baby girl.” Wolf paused to collect his thoughts, then launched right in. “So. You know I took over The Road Devils Presidency almost a year ago after Wheels died, but what you may not know is what a fuckin’ hard time I’ve had since then. I mean trouble recently – not all that s**t in the beginnin’.”
“Some guy named Kansas filled me in a bit over the phone the day before I left Fargo.”
“Yeah, I asked him to since I was on the road that day.” He ran one large hand through his dark hair, down over the stubble on his defined cheekbones. “You needed to know that the situation is… in flux.”
Zoe already had serious reservations about all of this, but Wolf’s cagey manner made her tense up even more. Those walls that she’d built up over the past six years got a bit higher, a bit thicker, and Wolf’s already-challenging sell got way tougher to buy in to.
“Be more specific,” Zoe said. “What kind of hard time and trouble are we talking about here?”
“Serious resistance to my changes in the club.”
She nodded, not surprised. Wolf’s decision to sever all ties with the motorcycle club’s criminal contacts just a year before had been a bold, brave move… but no way it had been an overwhelmingly popular one.
“No big shock there,” Zoe said wryly. “The Road Devils MC has always run drugs, and been big into the illegal strip clubs. When you shut all that down and left the world of the one-percenters, you really thought everyone would be thrilled with the loss of income?”
“No, of course not. I was expectin’ push-back from the two or three older guys and some of the more fringe members. Guys who were loyal as hell to Wheels and the crime scene.” Wolf exhaled, hard. “I just didn’t expect things to drag on this long.”
“What’s really going on, Wolf? Spit it out.”
“Lots of members leavin’,” Wolf said quietly. “Last month, one guy – Dawson Kinney – started a whole new club called The Blood Crew behind my back. Took over a dozen guys with him. Fuckin’ blindsided me, baby girl. Never saw it comin’ at all.”
That shocked Zoe, and she sat up straighter, not even pissed that Wolf had waited until she was here in person to tell her this part: this was a big goddamn deal, the kind of info that was passed on by the President, not anyone else.
Leaving an MC after being patched in was a major thing… an unthinkable thing. There were ways out, of course, though they were so hardcore that none were worth thinking about seriously. But just taking off and starting a splinter club without permission or warning? f*****g unheard of. And she’d heard and seen plenty about these MC boys.
“You’re kidding me,” she said, indignant for him; she also privately thought that The Blood Crew was the f*****g stupidest MC name that she’d ever heard. “What an asshole.”
“Yeah, well.” Wolf shrugged again. “It’s done now. They just picked up all the dirty contracts and clients that I’d dumped, most of ‘em Kirk Jensen’s, so money’s no major issue for them, and all the parties involved know each other.”
“So Kirk Jensen is involved with Dawson’s new club? The goddamn Blood Crew?”
“Kansas didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Jensen’s dead.”
