I pulled up to Ma’s house, loving my first home. I loved the small, yellow, one-story, ranch style home. I’d grown up here, and it held so many wonderful memories for me. All along the front of the large white wraparound porch were all different kinds of flowers, which Ma loved. She’s told me repeatedly what they were, but hell if I could remember. All I knew was they were pink, purple, yellow and white, and she took exceptional care of them. Me? I killed anything green I touched. Give me a motor or a carburetor, though, and I could rebuild it like a champ.

Ma must have heard Sting’s rumble because she ran out of the house with a broad smile across her beautiful face. As she embraced me, I felt whole.

Chapter 3—Cruz

Harlow, the Princess. Fuck me. I’ve heard about her since I became a Prospect two years ago. She was all any of the brothers could think about for the longest time. They were sick to death that she had to spend time in the joint. There was nothing the lawyer could do. The bitch involved really used her head and had an air-tight case against Princess, claiming she was blackmailing the mayor because he came to the studio, threatening to tell the town. Like she’d fucking say a word about shit like that. I’ve known her for a few hours and can see the way she was with the guys. She’d do anything for them… and them for her.

Pops and G.T. were beside themselves those first few months she was in lockdown. They were chomping at the bit, to find out if she was okay. I was just a Prospect at the time and wasn’t privileged to know everything, at first. I just watched, and you’d be amazed at what one could see.

I know life in the joint was rough, and when you have a MC like Ravage at your back, shit gets a little more difficult. All it took was one disgruntled woman who’s pissed we offed her man to make Princess’s life a living hell.

Diamond and Pops pulled some serious strings and mega cash to make sure she was safe inside. She doesn’t know what they had to do fully, but I knew they’d do it again in a heartbeat. Looking at her hugging her mom, I could totally see why.

She was everything I never knew I wanted in a woman. She was strong, fierce, smart-assed, loving. And I got all that in the course of a couple hours. When the hell did I turn into a fucking pussy?

“I’ll hang out on the porch.” I was here to guard and protect. That’s exactly, what I planned on doing.

“You want a beer?” Ma asked. We all called her Ma. She was the official mother of the club. She doesn’t take shit and tells people like it is, but she knows her place in the club and we respect her for that. Her daughter has learned a lot from her. I could tell, by the way, she was with Diamond.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Damn you, Cruz. Don’t call me that. Makes me feel old.” She smiled. She was anything but old. She was blonde, with long legs, and had a hot body. At forty-three, she was smokin’. It was no wonder Pops never strayed.

“Sorry,” Respect. It’s all about respect, and it ran both ways. I had the utmost for Ma. She grabbed me a beer, and I made myself comfortable in the chair. It was unbelievably peaceful out here. Not too many cars drove by, and those that did, knew who lived here and that it was off limits. Everyone knew in this town that we were not to be fucked with.

The Ravage MC has been in order since 1953, thanks to Pops’s dad, Striker. Striker was the president and had a real knack for business. He began branching out and taking on new chapters right away. Now, we have a strong name and presence with many other chapters across the country. People don’t mess with us. We kill first and think about it later. If you’re a threat, you were treated as such. Our threats became more numerous as others wanted what we had. Money. It all boiled down to money. But for the most part, we all stayed to ourselves.

Our runs were becoming longer, and more frequent. But the cash flow was nice, keeping us all very comfortable. We always made sure to do our charitable runs, too. We love our community and protect it with everything we have. That’s why most people who live here leave us be and stay out of our business. They get our protection and their happy lives, and we get ours. Win… win.

For me, getting into the club was my lifeline. After spending too much time overseas in a shithole fighting for this country, I came back to a very sick mom who only lasted about a month. Breast cancer. It spread like wild fire, and there was no treatment that could help her. Unfortunately, she didn’t have medical insurance, and instead of spending the money, she waited… way too long. This was one of the reasons I opted for early release from the military. I loved every minute I spent with her, but her death tore me up inside. As the once beautiful Clara Cruz died in my arms, part of me died right along with her.

My old man left when I was a kid, never to be seen from or heard from again. I couldn’t even tell you what the hell he looked like. Mom said he looked a lot like me, but I hope she’s wrong. I didn’t want to be anything like him. Supposedly, he had a piece on the side that he left Mom and me for. It gutted Mom to the bone, but she was always so strong never letting it get her down.

Mom worked her ass off, working two jobs as a waitress, one at a diner, the other at a bar to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. When I was old enough, I busted my ass mowing grass, cleaning shit, and just about anything else I could come up with to make money. It killed me seeing her come home every night to pass out on the couch from exhaustion. She’d usually take a small nap, then get right back up, and switch into mom mode, making sure homework was done, and dinner was made. She always did the best she could.

As soon as I turned eighteen, I joined the Marines, trying to make to something of my life. Working my ass off to take care of mom was really all I knew. I thought joining would give her a little reprieve from busting her ass so hard. I could send her money without being another burden, and maybe I could go to school later. The school part was lost in the wind when I held my mom in my arms.

My anger got the best of me after mom passed. I went back into fight mode from being overseas to being pissed all the time, which got me locked up for a bit. I was out soon enough, only six months for aggravated assault. The bastard deserved it though. Fucker tried to cheat me out of some cash. I bet he never pulls that shit again… at least not on me.

I had a buddy, Steeler, who was a hang-around to the Ravage MC and didn’t think much of it at the time. I was too lost, and really my only salvation was riding. When Steeler talked to me about coming and hanging out with them, I scoffed at the idea. But as I hung around with him, I got to know the guys, and got further in. What I liked best was that these men didn’t take shit from anyone. They followed their own rules and had their own way of life. They answered to no one. That was exactly how I felt at the time. With the pussy, always around, it was an extra fucking bonus. Prospecting was fucking hell. Cleaning the guys shit up, cleaning their barf after parties… trust me, it wasn’t glamorous. But I did my time. And when they voted to patch me in, I was on fucking cloud nine. I couldn’t imagine my life without the club.

I wondered how much Princess knew about what happens in the club. I was sure she knew more than any of the other woman around, considering the shit we all voted on for her to help out with while in the joint. The one bitch we had her take care of went through my personal shit after I fucked her and passed out. Apparently she found my book. It’s where I keep important information about the club. There wasn’t much documentation, just mostly numbers. When I found out she had the info, she was already locked up on drug charges.

That’s where Princess stepped in. She did it quietly, and everyone inside turned a blind eye.

I can’t say our first meeting was pleasant. I could sense by her stance in the garage that she was planning on taking my gun from me, but the fact her arm stopped so abruptly when she saw my rag, was astonishing. Respect. She totally had it.

Then her fucking ass challenges me to the ring. I don’t hit women, not my style. I’ve heard stories from the guys of Princess completely holding her own in the ring, even banging up Dagger pretty good, and I do admit I’d love to see her kicking ass in there. Just thinking about it makes my dick hard.

When she climbed on her bike and fucked it in front of all of us brothers, I almost came in my damn pants. That was the hottest fucking thing I’d ever seen, her long dark hair cascading around her curvy body. I knew her tits had to be real, by the way; they hung in her shirt, heavy and full. Those damn ripped jeans leaving little to the imagination, and her tight Harley shirt showed off a small bit of ink through the sleeve. I knew then that I had to be inside her. She threw out some bullshit excuse about not sleeping with brothers, but that wasn’t going to deter me in the slightest. Truth be told; I liked the fact my brothers hadn’t had her.

She would truly be mine. And she would be underneath me.

Those lips of hers are unbelievably soft. I could still taste that fucking berry shit from her lips on my tongue. The way her tongue dueled mine had me wanting to throw her up on the bar and fuck her raw. I couldn’t wait to get between her legs. When she came on her bike, she was so damn quiet. Not when I’m done with her. She’ll be screaming my fucking name.

Pop… pop… pop… Gunfire rang out as a black cage drove past with its side door wide open. Grabbing my gun, I fired back in quick reaction and dropped behind the porch post. The front door flew open as Princess stormed out, gun pointed and firing with great aim, hitting the cage repeatedly. The shots kept coming, and Princess didn’t flinch or shy away. She ducked a few times, but kept moving.