Page 7 of Wolf

“What do you want from me? I’ve gotta make some dough, right?” he growls.

She sniffles and he pulls her close, saying, “It's the only way.”

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. Once I’m in, we’ll have the whole MC backing us.”

“Right,” she says, and he kisses her gently before saying, “Go.”

She shakes her head and steps from the car. With a last glance at Duke’s grim smile, I follow, pondering their exchange. Miriam looks to the ground, her shoulders slumped and my heart hurts for her worry.

“Mir?” I whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Is this about the baby?”

I flinch when she spins to me with wide eyes and shrug before saying, “Sorry, but you left the test in the garbage.”

When she sways on her feet, I rush to say, “I hid it. I promise.”

“Shit,” she mutters, turning back to the path. I don’t know if she’s trying to outrun me or her predicament, but I hurry to keep up as I say, “What are you going to do?”

“Run away with Duke,” she barks.

“Oh,” I say, clearing my throat. “Is he one of them?”

She doesn’t need a translation and eyes me sideways before rubbing her brow. “Not yet but he plans to be.”

“Are you scared?” Miriam is sixteen months older than me—almost twenty. I can’t imagine having to make such choices and I hope she knows what she’s doing.

Her wide teary eyes meet mine before she whispers, “Terrified.”

Chapter 2

Wolf

The stale stench of alcohol and vomit invades my nostrils and my stomach churns. Spike rolls over on the couch, scratching his balls before snoring once again. A prospect lies across the pool table with one of the sweet butts wrapped around his torso.

The sweet butts hang around the clubhouse, hoping one day to meet their forever biker, but until then, they know as part of the package, they’re here to take care of any of the brothers who ask. Man, I hope that fucker knows what he’s doing.

Shaking my head, I sit down at the bar. I’m fucking exhausted. I pulled an all-nighter at that track for no good reason except to ream out my brother who doesn’t fucking listen anyway.

Behind me, someone groans, the door to the bathroom slams open and retching ensues. Exactly how many times will these fuckers puke before they figure out their limit for alcohol?

Despite just turning twenty-eight years old, sometimes I feel ancient around these assholes. Now my baby brother, Duke, is going to be a daddy. I thought I taught him better but, the wrap-it-up conversation we had when he turned fourteen went right over his fucking head.

A baby. Has he lost his fucking mind? The mere thought gives me hives. Idiot.

Although I encouraged him to join the MC years ago, he declined. I respected his decision because it’s not meant for everyone, even though it runs in our blood.

However, I know what that brotherhood means which is why I chose it. Our father and grandfather’s legacy lives within these concrete walls, and I’ll be damned if I don’t continue the tradition.

My grandfather Bub Castro formed this MC with Joker’s father and three other men some fifty years ago. At the time, it was to avenge a young woman’s death. Joker’s father, Stone Montgomery did not accept the verdict when the mayor’s son walked despite the evidence proving the brutal killing of his sister.

The Shadow Saints were born out of those ashes to make shit right.

Now, Duke’s changed his mind about joining. I worry about the reasons behind it, but he’s smart and tough, he’ll do just fine if this is what he really wants.

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