Page 1 of Goose's Wren

Chapter 1

Wren

Iride through WhiteSummer slowly, the familiar streets feeling both comforting and suffocating at the same time.I still remember the day I jumped onto my bike and left this place without a backwards glance.Now here I am hoping that things can be different.

My old bike sputters beneath me, fighting for every inch of pavement, refusing to accelerate beyond ten miles per hour.I grip the handlebars tightly, urging it forward as I make my way toward the shop owned by the Wolfsbane Motorcycle club.

The town hasn’t changed much.Same dusty roads and same old buildings.The coffee shop on the corner still has that faded sign, the gas station still has those flickering neon lights that never fully turn off.Everything looks just as it did the day I left it.Everything except for me.

I never thought I’d come back here.

But after we lost our last apartment in Los Angeles, I managed to convince Tim that moving here was our best option.We’d been running out of places to go, burning through what little money we had.I told him we could start over here, that it’d be different.That he’d be different.

I sneaked out before he woke up this morning, knowing full well that if he caught me, he’d lose his damn mind.He didn’t want me bringing the bike in to get fixed.Said it was a waste of time and money.As if it was his money to begin with.

I couldn’t just let my bike sit there, rusting away.Besides, this bike?It was mine.The one thing in my life that felt like freedom, and I wasn’t going to let him take that from me, too.

So I keep going, ignoring the sting in my ribs as the cold morning air bites through my jacket.I tell myself the ache is just from sleeping on that too-thin mattress in that too-small trailer and not from the fight last night.Not from the hands of a man who is supposed to love me.

The bike coughs, lurches forward, and I give it a soft pat, whispering to it as if it were a living thing, “Come on, girl, just a little further.”

Up ahead, I see the shop coming into view.And just like that, my stomach knots.I used to know several of the men in the club.Some of the women who are now married into it too.

Pulling up, I coax my bike to a stop, ignoring the way it groans like it’s taking its final breath.The scent of motor oil and metal fills the air, stirring something deep in my chest.It’s been years since I was here, since I was anywhere near these guys.

The bay door is wide open, the sound of classic rock spilling out along with the heavy clank of tools.The moment my engine cuts off, I see movement in the shadows of the garage.A handful of men step out into the bright sunlight, their leather cuts catching the light, the patches stitched on them unmistakable.

My stomach tightens, but I keep my face neutral, scanning the familiar faces in front of me.

I remember them from when I was younger—when I used to lurk in the background while Sparrow wrapped herself around Goose, soaking up the club life like it was her birthright.

But now?I’m the only one standing here.

Torque is the first to approach, his brow furrowing as he takes me in.

“Need some help?”he asks, voice rough, deep.

I open my mouth, ready to answer, but the way his eyes narrow slightly, his head tilting like he’s searching through old memories, makes me pause.I wait, watching as the recognition slowly dawns on him.

It takes several long seconds before his eyes widen just slightly behind those sunglasses he’s always worn to hide those mesmerizing eyes.

“Holy shit,” he mutters, then his lips curl into something between a grin and a smirk.“Wren?”

I huff out a quiet laugh and nod.“Took you long enough.”

He barks out a laugh, nudging Wrench with his elbow.“You see this?Sparrow’s little sister ain’t so little anymore.”

Wrench glances up from wiping grease off his hands and gives me a once-over, nodding in recognition.“Damn.You grew up.”

“Yeah, well,” I say, swinging my leg off my bike, “time has a way of doing that.”

I force myself to stay relaxed, but my pulse is hammering.Because if these guys are here, then there’s a damn good chance he is too.

As if thinking about him was enough to pull him out of thin air, Goose steps out from the bay doors.

The moment I see him, it’s like the air shifts around me.He hasn’t changed much, if anything, he’s even more solid, more intense.The years have added more muscle to his frame, more definition to his sharp jawline.His dark blond hair is a little longer than I remember, curling slightly at the ends, and there’s a shadow of scruff along his jaw.

But it’s his eyes that hit me the hardest.

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