When it comes to protecting my club, I don’t play devil’s advocate. I become the devil.
To say there’s dissension in the ranks is an understatement. When I joined The Horde, I never thought the club would end up here. They don’t call me Vlad the Impaler because I’m a choirboy. I’m the MC’s resident playboy, ready and willing to accept all the benefits that come along with the title. We don’t shy away from hard living. We’re bikers. This is the life. But I draw the line at hurting women. And that’s where Nic comes in. She’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and she’s forbidden. Rescued from a siege at a safehouse in Texas, this walking, talking, wet dream was hurt in ways I don’t want to think about. Despite every fiber of my being wanting—no needing—to claim her as mine, it can’t happen between us. It’s too dangerous to take her on now.
Rage, our president, wants me out. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let that happen. He’s toxic to the MC. It’s about time The Bedlam Horde clean house. If this is how he wants to play—then game on.
I’ve devoted my life to helping women escape trafficking ever since the day I was rescued. But when I saw our safe house destroyed, one woman having survived the nightmare and the others I swore to protect dead or missing, I knew I needed stronger allies in this battle. Our enemy knows us by name. They’re coming for us if we don’t take them out first. In order to protect us, I have to put my trust in the thing I fear most—a man. Not just any man, he’s a biker named Vlad who beds women for sport. I shouldn’t be attracted to him. He’s not the ride or die type, and I don’t want to end up as just another notch on his bedpost. I want love. I want commitment. I want to be his endgame.