“I’ll tell you what. I’ll call my friend with the police department and see if they can keep an eye out for him.”
“I don’t want him to go to jail.”
“If he’s driving drunk, then he needs to go to jail. Maybe then he’ll straighten up and stop these childish actions.”
“I . . . if you think that’s best, then do what you need to do.”
“Just get some rest, and Nana and I will be over in the morning to make sure you get to school on time.”
“Thanks, Pappy.”
“Anything for you, Linc. Get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Hanging up the phone, I walked out the front door and looked out at the empty driveway. The few houses on our street were far enough away that I could see their lights but not the actual building. Shaking my head in frustration, I sat on the front step, enjoying the coolish evening as I ate my banana and finished the first bottle of water. I didn’t know why I’d expected anything different from my father, but here I was, sitting on the steps, in the dark, waiting for him to return so I knew he was okay.
After thirty minutes, I stood and brushed off the back of my pants before walking back inside and securing the front door behind me. He had a key and could let himself in when he finally got home.
I took a quick shower and climbed into bed, the silence of the house growing with each passing second. Eventually, I fell asleepbut was woken up by the sound of banging on the front door. Groaning, I rolled out of bed and half walked, half stumbled to the front door, fully expecting my father to be on the other side.
When I saw Pappy and Nana standing at the base of the stairs, both looking worried, I went to step out the front door but stopped when I saw the blue lights flashing from the driveway. Rushing down to them, I started to ask what was wrong when the county sheriff approached.
Pappy looked at him as Nana stepped beside me and took my hand into hers. “Lincoln Philips?” I nodded, and he took another step closer. “I’m sorry to inform you, son, but your father was involved in an accident this evening.” I looked at Nana, and she rubbed her hand down my arm as I turned back to the sheriff. “His car ran off the road, and he hit the guardrail on I-90 doing excessive speeds.”
“Is he alive?” I asked, and his eyes cast down briefly.
“He passed away before the first responders could get him out of the vehicle. I’m really sorry for your loss.”
I didn’t respond to his platitudes. I just gave him a nod and turned to walk back into the house. Nana and Pappy followed, and over the next few weeks, they never left my side. I didn’t play in the last game, causing my team to lose, and the guilt I felt for letting them down ate away at me.
Coupled with the guilt of my father’s actions, and feeling like I was a burden to my grandparents, I decided that after graduation, I needed a fresh start somewhere where money was plentiful, work was steady, and the memories of my life weren’t so present.
When I left Rapid City a few months later, I vowed to come back a better man than when I’d left, and for the next five years, I worked seven days a week, banking as much money as I could make as I learned everything there was to know about the oil andgas industry. I would still be in North Dakota if Pappy hadn’t passed away, but Nana needed me, so I came home to Rapid.
I felt like I was wandering aimlessly until I ran into a guy who graduated a few years behind me. Trent told me about his father’s motorcycle club and the brotherhood they shared, how they always watched out for each other and how the Bastards were a family. Besides Nana, I was alone. It sounded like something I would be happy with.
The next day, I began prospecting for the Royal Bastards Rapid City Chapter, and I never looked back. For the last decade, they’d been my brothers, my family, and my home. They helped with Nana and made sure her house was kept up, her fridge was always stocked, and she never had to drive herself anywhere. She loved to bake for the brothers, and there had been times punches were thrown over who got to take her somewhere and reap the reward of her sweet treats.
It’s been a decade since I first slipped my cut on, that the Bastards would protect someone who killed our former president and kidnapped our current President’s ol’ lady, I would’ve slit your throat. They had never shown anything but loyalty, and I wouldn’t hear of their betrayal.
Now, I was on the hunt for Blur, and if any of the Bastards tried to stop me, I’d show them why you didn’t mess with someone from South Dakota.
My name is Lincon Philips, but everyone calls me Jagger. And today, I’m a member of the Sinners Revenge MC, Rapid City Chapter, hell bent on revenge and looking for a fight. And I dare anyone to try to stop me.
Chapter 1
Jagger
Present Day
“Are you going to be back for dinner, or would you like me to make you a plate?” Nana asked as she handed me a glass of lemonade.
I took a swallow and the cold, tart liquid quenched my thirst. Placing the glass onto the small kitchen table, I waited for her to take her seat before I answered.
“I’ve got to help Roughstock at the stock show for the next couple days, so don’t worry about making me a plate.”
“You promise you’ll eat something besides pizza or a burger? Something with actual vegetables?”
I smiled over at her and took her hand into mine. The skin was thin but soft, and I carefully placed a kiss onto it. “I promise. Cheyenne is going to bring food from the ranch, and she insists Trent eat well.”
