Rush (Carolina Bad Boys, #5)(6)

We watched Nicky kiss Daniel’s forehead then dip his head toward us before he turned away to take Daniel to his momma.

The commotion since leaving Shiloh kept my mind momentarily off her showing up at the MC. That almost felt like a lifetime ago, but it was only an hour or so. She was a complication from the past I didn’t need.

Correction: my past was the complicated part, not her.

Once I got home—after stopping at the bar for a congratulatory drink with my brethren and Josh Stone and the knuckle draggers from the garage—all the unwelcome bullshit from days I tried not to think about started seeping back in.

Home. There was one helluva big difference between my small piece of real estate in the Old Village of Mt. Pleasant compared to my parents’ house on The Battery downtown.

I owned approximately half an acre and the small cottage that sat on it. The house dated from the 1930s, and I’d been systematically updating it when I had the spare cash—or whenever Tail could help me out for a free case of beer.

At least he was easy to please.

My parents? Not so much. Or maybe I’d given up trying. Yeah. Definitely that.

Trust fund rich boy turns badass biker with a mighty big chip on his shoulder.

My folks owned a distilling empire. The MC even carried our label, but no one knew it came from my family.

Bourbon was king where I’d grown up, and I was into that too, but it had been fast rides, hot rods, and illegal street racing that made me go off the rails.

Such a Rush . . .

Speed was in my blood.

I’d tried hard to remain pretty much anonymous, keep my head down, and most definitely stay off the MPPD’s motherfucking radar since cleaning up my act. At the age of nineteen, after my third arrest by none other than Brodie’s fiancée, Ashe Kingston—then a rookie cop—my father sent his lawyer to bail me out, hand me a suitcase, an envelope full of cash, and the big kiss off.

Seven years ago and I hadn’t been in contact with my parents or my younger sister since.

In all that time we’d never crossed paths. Definitely kept different social circles. I stayed on my side of the Cooper River.

Three strikes and you’re out. Disowned by the Rush family. I’d brought shame on them. Sullied their status in the high-and-mighty, old money, old school Charleston snooty society.

That cash the lawyer had handed over to me? Yeah, those greenbacks sat in my savings account, unused, untouched, unwanted.

Some things I didn’t regret. The cars I’d bought in my teen years as soon as I’d gotten my license—the wicked-looking ’73 silver and black Pantera and the hellishly fast Chevy Nova. Both babied and pampered in the two-car garage that had almost as many square feet as my house.

Didn’t regret having my own place. Owning my own piece of land.

Or joining up with Retribution MC, working with my hands at Chrome and Steele every day to earn a living.

But I had my own plans, too.

And one day I’d face my father and give his money back to him, because I was not a broken man no matter how hard he’d tried to bring me to my knees.

Shy. Her name echoed from my lips as I turned off the light in the fresh-paint-smelling living room with the huge bay window Tail and I had installed last weekend.

She shouldn’t look so good to me.

And I shouldn’t look back to the past, because some things could never be changed.





Chapter Four


Baby Fever





A WEEK LATER, NICKY drove up to the compound with his baby momma, newborn Daniel, and Viper the precious Rottweiler drooling in the back of his upgraded hardtop Jeep.

Cat was on maternity leave from the family business, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t ride roughshod over anyone who dared slack in her absence. Lucky for me I worked only on the custom car and motorcycle orders, rarely stepping into the offices because that woman right there was nothing short of a ball-buster. Gorgeous as a gypsy with her long straight black hair and fully inked sleeves and eyes that flashed like blue ice—but no woman I wanted to tangle with.

Nicholas Loveland? Nicky Love? Mr. Famous Romance Writer? Word was he’d actually taken her on in the ring at Crossfit and let her kick his ass. The letting part was still up for debate. Whatever it was, they made a good couple. Maybe because they’d both known hard times and come out the better for it.

It was time for midmorning break, and Brodie and I’d been heading to the gym set up at the back of the MC building, but Viper made a beeline for me, all big paws and long sloppy licks.

Brodie hurried over to catch the door for his sister with Nicky carrying the car seat containing Daniel. Snapping my fingers under Viper’s velvety nose, I led her to the office of the business side of things then watched the huge canine almost knock the receptionist, Lucy, on her ass once the doggie bolted inside.

Ultimate chaos ensued. The best kind. Happy dog. Happy families. Men from the MC invading the building as soon as they’d seen the Jeep pull up.

Cat glowed. That shit was not a lie.

Boomer stood in front of the car seat perched on a chair, glowering. “When can I hold him?”

“How about now, Boom?” Cat gently unbuckled a worrisome number of straps before lifting the tiny baby boy up and out, still sleeping.

Brodie watched, just a couple months away from his first baby being born, grumbling, “I get him next.”