Page 69 of Asher

Chloe was smart.

She was the smartest woman I knew.

And she would get it.

I had no doubt about that.

If only I could get her to listen to me for five minutes.

I laughed to myself.

Here I was, trying to get my woman back, the only woman I’ve ever loved, and I was technically still a married man to another woman.

And that woman...

Almost twenty-one years ago.

Fuck, but he loved the open road.

There was nothing like riding a bike down an open road.

Feeling the breeze on your skin.

Nothing out in front of you but asphalt, scenery, and your bike’s front tire.

I didn’t have any entanglements. Nothing was holding me down.

Nothing was tying me down.

Until I heard about a sex trafficking ring.

And thankfully, I had made friends in my life. Good friends.

Those good friends were all for starting a one-percenter motorcycle club and putting a stop to it.

However, what I never planned for, and didn’t want, was for the woman I had fucked months ago to come find me and tell me she was pregnant.

Now, I was raised to be a good man by my parents before they were killed in a car accident by a drunk piece of shit.

That was my first kill.

How the fuck he got off with killing two people while being intoxicated with a slap on the wrist, I didn’t know. But I set out to make it right.

So being the good man I was raised to be, I married her, and in name only, so I could put her on my insurance, it was a bitch, but it was better than nothing.

Even though I loved the open road, I came to learn that I loved my club and my daughter more.

Because the day she was placed in my arms, everything felt right.

The location I was in. Everything.

She was the apple of my eye.

Even though the marriage was on paper only, I tried to make it work for my daughter’s sake.

However, that stopped working when I got home from a run, heard my four-year-old daughter crying in her room, and heard sounds coming from my bedroom.

Sounds that shouldn’t be coming from there.

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