PROLOGUE
SIX YEARS AGO
Seth “Vodka” Andrich was on top of the world! A little hungover, but that’s to be expected after a night of partying. He was finally a patched member of theVia DaemoniaMotorcycle Club. He was now ‘Vodka’, a homage to his favorite drink. As well as his half-Ukrainian heritage. After a year of prospecting, taking shit from the patched members, and acclimating back into civilian life after being in the military for ten years, he’d finally found a place to call home, brothers, a road name…and maybe even a woman.
Flashes of hot naked flesh, passionate kisses, and gasps of ecstasy filled his sleep-addled mind. Without opening his eyes, Vodka let out a sigh of contentment. He could still feel his arm wrapped around something round, likely her shoulder.
He recalled the most beautiful face. He doubted she actually had cartoon sparkles floating around her golden-blonde hair, but that was the image that came to mind now. She’d been standing at the clubhouse bar, looking so utterly bored. But when she saw him? And, fuck him, thatsmile… Yeah, Vodka hadn’t been able to resist. He was pretty sure one of the Honeys had been on his lap at the time, but he was also equally as sure that neither of them was undressed. They had certainly been on their way to being so, but then Vodka had seen pure sunshine staring back at him.
Christ, what was her name? His mama had raised a gentleman. He sure as fuck wasn’t a monk, but he wasn’t the sort to fuck and run without exchanging names or pleasantries first. Heknewthey’d talked. He couldn’t remember what about, specifically, but he knew there’d been a lot of laughter, tactile flirting, and shared glances.
From the cool breeze on his skin, he knew they were outside. Likely under the pavilion behind the clubhouse. The club’s new bar,Demon on the Rocks, was still under construction and wouldn’t be opening for another several weeks. As much as Vodka loved Scotty, Sissy, and the other club family members, he’d requested the party to be open-door to the hang-arounds, Honeys, and townsfolk. Which meant no one under twenty-one was allowed on property. The exception being Steel, the VDMC President, and Jenna’s youngest two, Jordan and Melanie, who were restricted to their house on property and allowed nowhere near the clubhouse.
Being that they were at the clubhouse, Vodka wasn’t entirely sure why they were outside versus his apartment inside. He supposed he had a good enough reason the night before, but like her name, he couldn’t recall it now.
Fuck, whatwasher name? He had every intention of seeing the woman in his arms again, but she was not likely to want to see him again if he couldn’t remember her goddamn name!
Ocean? Darla? It was something hippy-like. He recalled that much. She’d been wearing bell bottoms, and he hadn’t seen those since his childhood when they’d been goingoutof style. But fuck, they’d looked hot on her. Hugging low on her hips with a shoelace holding them together in the front, just begging him to untie them.
Vodka crinkled his nose, still not opening his eyes. He was determined to remember her name before he officially woke up. He was not some horndog, like his soon-to-be patched brother, Cage. Vodka’s fellow prospect was being patched in next week. He’d heard more than one woman describe him as an Adonis. The mancertainly had a way with women, and particularly liked them in multiples.
Vodka loved women. Fuck, did he! Their curves and their softness and their coyness and the way they moved… He loved everything about women, and he wasn’t so particular that he needed to have a certain shape or color either. But unlike some of his brothers, Vodka had an innate respect for women. Having been raised by a single mother, who had been barely five foot and would have boxed his ears even as an adult if she even got ahintthat he’d been disrespectful towards a woman. No, his mama had raised him to have an equal respect and love for women.
Even now, his ears tingled like his mama was giving him a light warning from Heaven toremember.
His ears picked up on something else. Was that…snickering? And that wasdefinitelya camera. What the fuck? If his brothers were taking nude pictures of Vodka and his woman, he was going to castrate them with a dull spoon!
Vodka shot upright, wide awake now. Sure enough, he was on the concrete floor of the pavilion. It was still early, pre-dawn, with just the glimmer of sun rays coming over the horizon. Vodka didn’t care about his nudity—he didn’t have anything his brothers didn’t have—but he was not going to allow them to gawk at…whatever her name was. Fuck, where was an introduction when he needed it?
“What the fuck?” Vodka demanded, moving his body forward. The glare from the overhead lights hurt his eyes, but he powered through it.
As he shifted, he felt something wet and rubbery touch his right hip. He glanced down to see not one, but two, used condoms next to him. Further over, he saw his clothing on the floor of the pavilion and his cut with his new rockers on one of the picnic tables. At least he hadn’t been caught with his cut on the ground. That was a big no-no.
Standing a few feet away from where Vodka and—shit, he was going to have to come up with something to call her until he remembered or figured out her name. He settled on hislady friend. He could admit it was lame, but he was hungover and it wasn’t like he plannedon saying the words out loud. He just needed to get his brothers away and then somehow casually figure out her name. Had they exchanged numbers last night? He wasn’t positive, but he didn’t think so.
Cage, Grumpy, Bear, Demo, and Bulldog were standing around another picnic table. Leaning on it like they had no cares in the world, most of them had their phones pointed at Vodka and his lady friend on the floor. The shit-eating grins on their faces, though…Thatpissed Vodka right off.
His brothers might beloose, for lack of a better word. They were all young, single, fresh out of the military and back into civilian life… Butnoneof his brothers would ever disrespect a woman by photographing her naked without her consent. That was a hill Vodka would die on, so what the fuck?
“You certainly have a way of partying that we didn’t expect,Pumpkin,” Bulldog laughed. He was the only one not taking pictures or videos.
Pumpkin? Weird pet name, but that was the least of Vodka’s problems. “Show some damn respect. She’s not even awake and you’re taking pictures of her!” At least, he assumed she was still asleep. She hadn’t made a sound or screamed about their audience when he’d moved. She must be a really sound sleeper.
He was jealous. After a decade in the Marines, a paperclip dropping on the floor would wake him.
“She?” Demo snorted, his phone still raised like he was a fucking paparazzi. “Doesshehave a name too?”
Fuck. Vodka’s eyes narrowed. He was not answering any of their goddamn questions until they lowered their fucking cameras. What were they? Teenagers hoping to be the next viral video? “Will you turn those off? Have you no decency?! She’s not dressed! Or are you so hard up for pussy that you have to gawk like immature boys with their first hard-on?”
The others he could maybe understand, but Bear and Bulldog were older. Even if they wereallstill drunk from the party the night before, they certainly should know better.
Vodka reached behind himself for the first time, wanting to lendsome comfort to his lady friend, who could either sleep through the apocalypse or was stunned silent, but only felt cold concrete. The same that was under his naked ass.
Surprised, not realizing he’d moved so far away from her, he looked over his shoulder—and blinked. What the fuck?!
No woman lay behind him, naked or otherwise. Theonlything around him was a goddamn pumpkin. It was one of Jenna’s fall decorations. Big and orange, it seemed to be glaring at him, even though it was one of the few without a jack-o’-lantern face.
Completely and totally perplexed, Vodka picked up the damn thing. He wildly looked around. Where was…whatever her name was? Surely he hadn’t been so drunk that he’d fabricated her. No, he’d been blackout drunk before and his head had felt like it was going to explode the next morning. He hadn’t nearly been drunk enough to make her up. His eyes landed on the condoms next to his hip. That was irrefutable proof that she’d been real. Sure, he’d used condoms before to masturbate for easy cleanup, but not like this, and certainly not twice.
