Page 2 of Sentinel

And I’m hoping like hell I’ve taken all the necessary steps to keep David Turner from ever finding me again.

1

EMMA

Everything in front of me starts to blur as my eyes burn from hours of staring at the road. I’m hungry and tired, but I want to get to my new place, and I’m almost there—my GPS says it’s only two minutes away. If I can just keep my eyes open a little bit longer…

You have arrived. Your destination is on the left.

Finally! I pull my car into the parking lot of Desert Ridge Apartments, my new home for the foreseeable future. Thank God the property manager took mercy on me when I called and pleaded my case. I was hoping that, as another woman, she’d sympathize with my situation and work with me to secure the place—sight unseen. And luckily, she did, taking my deposit via the new prepaid debit card I set up after closing out all my banking accounts and credit lines. She even did me a solid and left the key in a lockbox on the door, knowing I’d have no idea what time I’d be moving in, and it would likely be after hours.

I really need to do something nice to thank her.

After parking as close to the entrance as possible, I head up to the third floor and unlock the door. Looking around, I’m relieved to find that the place appears just as advertised online, and that it’s indeed fully furnished—like it’s supposed to be. I check the kitchen and bathrooms to ensure they’re all reasonably clean, and to my surprise, they’re spotless. Of course, I’m still going to clean them because I’m a germaphobe, but it’s a huge relief to know I haven’t moved into a dump.

I’ve got to find the small wins in this fucked-up situation whenever I can.

I head back down to my car and begin the task of moving my bags into my apartment. I don’t have much: just my clothes, some books, toiletries, and a few trinkets. Everything else was put into storage (under a fake name) so I could get it later, when I’m ready. I knew I wouldn’t be able to take it all with me, but I couldn’t bear to leave it athishouse. Especially the things that belonged to my parents.

But I don’t want to think aboutthemright now. I don’t even want to consider what my parents would think of me and the predicament I’ve gotten myself into. I just wish they were here with me to tell me what to do. Only… they’re not, so this is the best plan I could come up with. And it has to work.

I make several trips back and forth from the car to the apartment, and as I do, I can’t help but feel like someone’s watching me. I scan the parking lot, yet I don’t see anyone. I just have a tingly feeling at the base of my neck that makes the tiny hairs stand on end. But surely, that can’t be right. It’s after 2 a.m. for crying out loud. So, who the hell would be awake right now, besides me?

2

SENTINEL

“You headed out, man?” Throttle sidles up to me at the bar as I down the last swig of my beer.

“Yeah, I finished up the plans for the run next week for you and Gunner. Everything should go off without a hitch.” I set my empty bottle down on the bar top and stand, stretching my arms over my head. It’s late, and I’m ready to get some fucking sleep.

“If you planned it, I know it’ll be fine. You don’t miss a fucking detail, brother.” His hand claps down on my shoulder. Throttle’s the club’s Sergeant-at-Arms and one of my closest friends—both of us having similar personalities.

And my brother knows I’ll do anything to protect my club. It’s why I’m so strategic in everything I do, and how I came to be the VP of Satan’s Disciples, the most-feared motorcycle club in the fucking state of Nevada. That, and I’m the best friend of our current president, Venom.

But don’t think I didn’t earn my damn patch or my fucking rocker, because the shit I’ve seen and done will tell you I motherfucking did. And Venom is my brother, even if he’s not blood. I’ve had his back since we were kids.

From day one, there hasn’t been so much as a playground scuffle he’s gotten into where I didn’t protect his ass. It’s how I got my road name: Sentinel. The protector.I’ve built my family of chosen brothers using ties that bind and blood of the covenant.

Faithful. Loyal. Ruthless.

I live and breathe for my fucking MC, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Why don’t you just stay in your room, instead of going back to your place? I’m sure one of the club bunnies would love to warm your bed tonight.”

“Pretty sure it’s not my bed they wanna keep warm.”

“Aww, since when did you stop wanting to get your dick wet, man?” Throttle punches me in the shoulder as we walk towards the front.

“Since the same pussies have been wetting every dick in the club.”

A quick glance around shows me the exact scene you’d find on just about any other night here at the clubhouse: bunnies in various stages of undress, doing all kinds of sexual acts with patched members. Of course, no one is forcing these women to be here, but they hang around hoping that one of my brothers will someday make them an ol’ lady. No matter how many times we tell them it’ll never happen, they just don’t leave.

“Ah, you want some new pussy then. Well, why didn’t you just say so? That can be arranged, brother.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just not feeling it tonight.” He gives me a curious look, and I know what he’s thinking.

It’s not often that I turn away a beautiful woman from my bed. The girls in the club serve a purpose: to blow off some steam built up from the lifestyle we lead. It’s a rough fucking existence, often filled with a lot of aggression and adrenaline. And all that energy needs somewhere to go, which usually means beating the fuck out of someone, or sinking balls-deep into someone else. Or—more times than not—a little of both.

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