Page 1 of Sparrow's Grace

Prologue

Savannah

The bass was thumping in the main room of the clubhouse.

So hard, in fact, it was making the bed frame I was laying on, which, mind you, was two floors up, and add the fact that it was solid oak, vibrate with each beat of the drum and the succession of every note.

Normally, at any other given time, I would be down there with them, jamming out. What twenty-year-old didn’t love to party?

But night after night of this? And for every day of my life when I am here?

Well, it gets old. Super quick.

So, seeing that this was an all-the-time thing, it had me silently wondering if all MCs partied as this one did. In that case, being seven days a week and twenty-four hours a day. It was non-stop.

It didn’t matter the occasion; it didn’t matter how many times one of the ol’ ladies had to leave because they had a headache and asked them to turn it down. Their reaction? To turn the volume up.

And every time that happened, I wanted to cringe. Why do you ask?

Well, that was because of the man I had been seeing for two freaking long-ass painful years. He was the one that turned the volume up, and he laughed cynically every single time he spun that dial.

And whenever I sent a scathing look at Deck when he turned the volume up, his response was to just shrug his shoulders. That was freaking it.

I always gave the ol’ ladies an apologetic smile when that happened. I never failed to miss the hate-filled glances from the bunnies when he showed even that little bit of attention to me.

They called the girls who slept with the men on a regular basis, bunnies, because they hopped from one bed to the other.

Sighing, I rolled over in Deck’s queen-sized bed, grabbed his pillow, and curled it around my ears, trying to dampen the noise so I could get some sleep.

It was five after three in the morning. I had to be up in three hours to get to my computer so I could get started on my deadlines.

Why did I put up with this crap on top of everything else he dished my way with disregard for me?

Why did I not just dump his ass and go on with my life?

How come I didn’t respect myself enough as a woman to realize my worth?

Because I had simply made a promise to my father while he was on his deathbed.

My father was one of the original founding members of this club. The Steel Bandits MC. However, when the club started, it had been in North Dakota, where the national chapter still stood today. My father had taken a trip here and fell in love with everything about it. Therefore, he and Gaston had made the move because Gaston’s ol’ lady, Felicia, really loved the weather here. And the weather here, that was in SoCal.

And now, as I close my eyes, I can still hear the rattle in his chest when he was taking his last breaths. He had stage four bone cancer.

They may have caught it sooner, but my dad was of the mindset that unless you were knocking on heaven’s door or, in his case, rattling the devil’s fiery gates,you didn’t need no doctor.

So, when things started to decline with his health rather rapidly, I’d used everything in my arsenal to get him to go see a doctor.

Everything in my arsenal included throwing in his face the number of birthdays he had missed. Which was fourteen of them, by the way. Yes, fourteen. Also, the number of holidays he had missed because in his words,I’m only on this earth for a short time, I want to see it all while I can.

That translated into, ‘I want to stick my dick in every female pussy I can’.

And reminding him that he had chosen all of that over me, well, that had done the trick. Thankfully.

Only, the news we had gotten was that the cancer was at a point where there was nothing they could do except to make him comfortable.

But anyway, I digress. When we got the results from his doctor, he was given three weeks to live.

And those three weeks? They were the happiest days of my life.

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