Page 6 of Obliterate

“Keep your woman in check next time, Reaper.” Angus huffs.

Fuck that!I turn, starting to storm toward him, my finger pointed out in rage. “You fucking ass—”

Reaper grabs me around the waist and starts dragging me out of the house.

“C’mon, kids, let’s go,” Reaper calls out.

Novah and Nash race out after us while Reaper manhandles me out of the house, my fist raised at Angus as I go.

I go to yell again, but Reaper pushes me up against the side of our car hard, his eyes on me, making me stop instantly. “Ingrid, I love you… butshut the fuck up. You’re the best mother I haveeverknown. Your heart and devotion to our four kids knows no bounds, butdon’ttell another man how to raise his kids.”

My heart beats so fast in my chest, tears welling as I glance back at the opulent house. The thought of leaving Romeo there kills me, but I don’t have any other choice. He has so much character and potential, and they’re stifling him.

It’s not fair.

Pulling myself free from Reaper, I spin and jump in the car, slamming the door shut for added emphasis and folding my arms over my chest.

Reaper slowly gets in, the four of us dead quiet while he pulls the car out of the parking spot and starts driving, skidding the tires as he goes.

My eyes flick to the rearview mirror where Romeo is standing by the giant window, watching us pull away, and somehow, for some reason, I get the feeling it won’t be the last time I see that young man.

I have high hopes he will turn into someone amazing, and I hope I am able to witness that happen.

One day.

CHAPTER TWO

South

Twelve Years Later

Defiance MC has been a part of me for so long that it flows through my veins. The club means more to me than my brothers realize.

When I finally joined LA Defiance, I knew deep in my bones and the fabric of my soul thatthisis where I belonged.

While LA is where I grew up and where I call home, I’ve always felt the need to see the rest of our beautiful country. Hell, even the rest of the world, if I can. So when the opportunity came for me to transfer from the club I love in LA to my brother chapter in New Orleans, another club I have grown very fond of, I knew I needed to take that leap.

Itchy feet were pulling me in another direction. The need to stretch my limbs and breathe different air was calling me. My brothers in LA mean so much, don’t get me wrong, and I know I’m going to come back, but as they say, ‘a change is as good as a holiday,’ and maybe this temporary change will be my holiday.

I have no idea how long I’ll be spending in New Orleans, but I will make the most of my time here. Transfers from one club to another don’t come up often, so when a position is available, you grab it with both hands and make as much out of it as possible.

And that is exactly what I plan to do.

Riding into the NOLA Defiance clubhouse for the first time as a patched brother for their chapter, I don’t know what to expect. Once they find a brother to fill their prospect, Jesse’s spot, and he patches up to a ranking brother, my time will be done. I’ll be back in LA quicker than I can say “beignet.” So, I need to ensure I make an impression—leave a legacy—and do my part.

Pulling my bike into the parking space allotted, excitement washes over me.

Will they be waiting for me inside?

Will they have a celebration prepared for my arrival?

I sure hope so.

Kicking out the stand, I lean my bike to the side and throw my leg over, sliding off my ride and stretching my muscles. The ride from LA was fucking lengthy and took a lot longer than I wanted, but I needed my bike with me. If I wanted her here, the only way to do that was to do the nearly two-thousand-mile ride. But it’s worth every bump in the road, even if I do have a sore-as-fuck ass and tense-as-hell neck muscles.

Luckily, my bags and some belongings were shipped ahead of time, so if everything’s gone according to plan, my shit should already be here. Craning my neck to the side, my bones crack slightly with the pressure, and I let out a throaty groan. “Here we go,” I mumble to myself, then stride toward the clubhouse with purposeful steps.

Walking into the clubhouse, I expect a brother to grab me when I walk through and for all the back-slapping congratulatory “Welcome, brother” comments to be flung my way.

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