Page 1 of Valley

CHAPTER ONE

Prologue

PROLOGUE

“WHY CAN’TI come with you?” Kezia’s voice broke through thehum of my concentration as I polished my motorcycle. She sat cross-legged in the driveway, her dark eyes fixed on me. “It’s your birthday, Jarrod, and I thought we were going to do something together.”

“We were,” I replied, trying to sound genuinely disappointed. “But Dad sprang this on me last minute. I can’t exactly say no to him.”

Her shoulders slumped, sadness creeping into her gaze. “I just don’t see why I can’t come, but Kaven can.”

I sighed, wiping my hands on a rag before sitting beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You know how Dad is. He wants a guy’s night out, playing pool and shooting the shit with his kid. I promise we’ll do something special tomorrow night, just the two of us.”

She managed a small smile just as Kaven’s Harley rumbled up the driveway. She stood reluctantly. “Okay, but at least text me when you get back tonight.”

“I promise,” I said, kissing her cheek. Relief washed over me as Kaven dismounted his bike, saving me from more lies.

“Hey, little sis,” Kaven greeted, hugging Kezia. Their family’s easy affection always struck me. They hugged and said “I love you” like it was nothing, a big difference from the cold, drunk wasteland I called home.

“I guess I better head home,” Kezia said, starting down the sidewalk. “I promised Mama I’d help her clean the house since I don’t have plans anymore.”

“She mad at you for going out tonight?” Kaven asked, watching her walk away. “She seems upset.”

“Kezia’s not thrilled, but hey, man, we get to spend my seventeenth birthday at a clubhouse party!” I said, giving him a wide grin.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be wild,” Kaven agreed, though his tone turned serious. “But remember, you promised to stay away from other girls. She’s my sister, Jarrod, and I’ll beat your ass if you hurt her.”

“I love your sister,” I retorted defensively. “Now let’s roll.”

We mounted our bikes, the machines we’d spent two years working at the carwash to buy and rebuild, and roared down the road. Tonight, I wasn’t going to think about anything but getting wasted. My dad, Bones, was the Sergeant-at-Arms for The Devil’s House MC, and next year, Kaven and I would be prospecting for the club.

We parked our bikes out front and stepped inside, and threw a wave to my old man, who was already drunk, with a sweet butt on his lap. The party was already in full swing and before long, Kaven and I were feeling good. He wandered off with some blonde hang-around, leaving me free to do what I wanted without his watchful eye.

I downed more shots and caught the eye of Toddy, a notorious sweet butt in this club for her skills. The way she looked at me had my heart racing with anticipation.

God, the things I knew she could do.

She beckoned me with a flick of her wrist, and I followed her outside to a shadowed corner. She turned, her eyes gleaming. “What’ll it be this time?” she purred, running a hand down my chest.

“I’m in the mood for one of your tongue twisters,” I smirked, leaning against the wall and watching her drop to her knees. This was where I should’ve felt guilty, but the alcohol numbed any semblance of it. Not now and definitely not later as the night wore on, and I kept drinking, until I finally passed out face down on the floor with a smile on my face.

A SHARP KICKto my side jolted me awake with a grunt,the sudden pain piercing through the thick fog of myhangover. “Time to get moving, kid,” a gruff male voice cut through the haze of my sleep like a serrated knife. I cracked one eye open, squinting against the dim light seeping through the dirty windows, and immediately shut it again—my head was pounding like a drum, each beat sending waves of nausea rolling through me.

A minute later, another kick landed, harder this time, driving the air from my lungs. “Get moving. I gotta clean this mess up,” Pipe’s voice snapped, the impatience clear in his tone.

I forced myself to sit up, fighting off the dizziness that threatened to pull me back under. The room spun around me, a chaotic blur of empty bottles and crumpled clothes. “I’m going, Pipe, you can stop kicking me,” I muttered, my voice rough, throat raw from a night spent drowning in liquor.

“When your feet are moving, then you’re going,” he snapped back, no patience for my groggy state. “And take your friend with you.”

I glanced over to see Kaven slumped against the wall, his face pale and gaunt, looking like death warmed over. His groans filled the silence as he started coming around, the realization of where we were and what we had done slowly creeping into his eyes. “Here, drink this,” Pipe said, shoving a glass under my nose, the sharp smell of whatever concoction he’d brewed burning my nostrils.

I took it, recognizing one of his infamous hangover cures—potent and foul-tasting, but damn if it didn’t work. The liquid was thick, almost viscous, and it burned all the way down, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He handed another glass to Kaven, who eyed it with distaste before downing it in one gulp, his face contorting in disgust.

Pipe laughed heartily, a deep, rumbling sound that seemed out of place in the stillness of the early morning. “Burns like hell, but it’ll take care of that hangover.”

I shook my head, trying to clear the lingering fog as I staggered to my feet. The pounding in my head was easing up, but my stomach was still a queasy mess, threatening to revolt at any second. I stumbled over to Kaven as he managed to stand, his movements slow and unsteady, and together we made our way outside, the harsh morning sun hitting us like a slap in the face.

“Fuck,” Kaven muttered, squinting against the light, his hand shielding his eyes as we approached our motorcycles. The world outside was too bright, too loud, every sound amplified, grating against my already frayed nerves. “What time is it anyway?” he mumbled, fumbling for his phone with fingers that still shook from the night before.

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