Page 3 of Forged in the Fire
Our clubhouse was on the left side of the property, tucked out of sight from the everyday patrons, though plenty had come gawking, thinking they were going to sneak a peek at the violent MC that had rolled into town.
Yeah, we’d come with a reputation.
Hidden deep in the massive trees in the deepest recesses of our land were two houses. One was reserved for my second in command, Trevan, and the other for my family.
My guts tangled and coiled.
In the end? They were the only thing that truly mattered. They were the reason I did everything.
The sound of a high-pitched engine carried on the rustle of the trees, a car screaming a path down the two-lane road.
My twisted guts coiled up tighter, and I gritted my teeth as I watched the yellow sedan come into view, a blazing blip of color blinking through the forest.
“Here we go,” Trevan rumbled under his breath.
The car slowed to make the left onto the gravel drive, and it came through the large gate that sat wide open as if everyone were welcome when it was half my crew’s job to make sure the ones who didn’t belong here never got through.
Gravel crunched beneath the turning of the tires as the Honda came to a stop in front of me and Trevan.
A flurry of energy radiated from it.
Chaos.
Rage.
Confusion.
I could taste each one of them the same as I could taste the clean, fresh woods on my tongue as I inhaled a steeling breath.
A brunette was in the passenger seat, shifted toward the driver, shouting something that I couldn’t quite make out.
Then she threw open the door and jumped from her seat, slamming the door shut behind her.
She looked like autumn riding in on a hurricane.
Long locks of hair threaded with strands the color of harvest leaves blowing around her. Golds and reds and browns, the shade of freshly whittled bark on a tree.
Eyes the same tumbled hue, though they glowed the brightest flames.
Not to mention a body that could incite a fucking riot.
All legs and tits and curves.
She sent me a glare that could decimate an entire village right before she spat, “You.”
This woman was a wildfire.
And standing there, maybe I somehow knew she was going to burn the whole place down.
TWO
BRINLEY
Three Hours Earlier
“You can’t be serious.”I chased behind my younger brother as he stormed down the hall and into my room.
“I’m very fucking serious,” he grunted as he ducked into my closet and pulled my suitcase from the back and tossed it onto my bed.
