“What’s that?” I look at him. His age shows more and more each year. It doesn’t seem to be doing all that great for him either with the way lines are framing his eyes as well as his mouth. The grays don’t just surround his temples these days; it’s starting to take over more and more.

In the four years that the other half of my fuckin’ body has been gone, I’ve visited every free weekend I’ve had available, kept my distance because that’s what her dear old pop wanted. The man who could do no wrong in her eyes. Ender has no idea just what he’s capable of. No one does. It was understood when he demanded I push his daughter away, severing all ties. It took all I could to stand tall as she cried, wailed, and even beat on my chest.

“Lavender will be comin’ home this weekend. Permanently.” Those are the words that have me stopping in my tracks. We just finished church. All the guys are gone, including my dad, who still sits to Shovel’s right as his VP.

“You goin’ to pull the same shit you did before?” I lock eyes with him. I’m sure he can see the anger in my eyes as well as my body.

“Watch your tone. I wasn’t proud of that moment. One day, you might understand more, when you have a daughter, but I’ll be steppin’ aside.” He’s lucky Persephone and my mom, fuck, even my dad didn’t know what happened. I changed that day, not for the better either. Angry at anything and everything, the only thing I cared about was work, beer, and Lavender.

“We’ll see about that.” Shit, for all I know, Ender could tell me to fuck off. She’d have every right to do it, too; it’s not like I’d even expect her to accept my apology.

“That we will,” is his response. If it weren’t for the club being family, too, I would have told him to fuck off, packed my bags, and followed his daughter anywhere. The memories are as clear as day—traveling to her college and watching her trudge along, miserable and sad, not having anyone close to her. It pulled at every bone of my being to watch her from the sidelines. I did it though. Still freaking do. That first year was her hardest. What made it worse was knowing that I was the reason she stayed away from her family here at the compound, which was why, when there was a run around the holidays, it was me who volunteered to leave, being the selfless fucker I am. That’s all going to change when Ender is back home, this time for good. I’m going to give her everything I ever promised her.

CHAPTER 2

LAVENDER

“So, this is it?” my friend for the past four years asks. We both have our cars packed to the brim with everything we wanted to keep, having donated a lot of our things to the local women’s shelter since we’re about to make our treks back home. Sailor is heading back up north. How she manages living in Wyoming, I have no idea.

“I guess it is. Promise you won’t forget about me.” I pull her in for a hug, her light blonde hair a contrast to my darker locks. We’re night and day. She’s the lightness to my darkness, my complete opposite in every stretch of the imagination.

“I could never forget you, Lavender.” I squeeze her even tighter. If I could handle the cold, I’d be following her. After all, it’s not like there’s a whole lot for me in Ely, not in the way of friendships or relationships.

“Make sure it stays that way.” We pull apart, our eyes filled with tears. We both have a long road back home ahead of us, Sailor more than me.

“I will. Make sure you text or call when you get home. Especially if you know who is there.” Yeah, right. Even when I’ve wanted to confront the man who shall not be named or to parade around in my barely-there bikini I brought home on that rare occasion, he disappeared like a ghost.

“You know it. Check in. I want your location, too. Your hotel is booked for the night, right?”

“Duh, you watched me do it.” We moved out of the dorms after our freshman year. With both of us on scholarships and our parents footing the bill for the apartment, we only had to work part time to pay for utilities, groceries, and whatever extras.

“One last hug?” I don’t give her time to respond. This girl has been my ride or die, the girl who’s held my hair up while I puked in a toilet after drinking too much, drying my eyes in the early days of the world’s ugliest cry over a boy.

“Love you, Lavender.” Another thing someone has ruined for me. I don’t allow anyone to call me Ender, not after that horrible day.


Tags: Tory Baker Diamondback MC Second Generation Romance