Gunn (Great Wolves Motorcycle Club Book 11) Read online

  “Designated driver,” she said. Her voice had a nice clear ring to it. Made me wonder if she was a singer. We were always looking for those. Other than fight nights, we’d started hosting live local bands at the Wolf Den.

  She got back up on her stool and her hair fell behind her shoulders. Man, she was pretty. Maybe even beautiful. Bright green eyes and a high arch to her thick brows. She gave me an unsure smile, showing perfect, straight teeth.

  I couldn’t help myself. I looked her over quick, as she turned to her friend. The girl was stacked and she wasn’t wearing a bra under that silky red top. She was thin and toned everywhere else; I wondered if those tits were real. My jeans got a little tighter as my imagination took hold.

  Damn. If I didn’t get a hold of myself quick, I really would be no better than Dustin and fuckface.

  “Good to meet you, Christine,” I said. Switch was still standing there. I saw him give a little shoulder shrug as he realized I wasn’t maybe ready to break off this conversation. “And you’re …”

  Pretty Eyes cocked her head to the side. She was reading me. Her brow furrowed and for a second, she looked pissed. Like, maybe I should know her already?

  “I’m Gunn,” I said. She turned and grabbed the Coke she’d been drinking. When her lips tightened around that fucking straw, I got a flash of heat. Fuck. I really think she didn’t know how hot she was.

  Christine stuck her hand out and shook mine. “Gunn,” she said. “What’s that short for?” She gave me a once over and stopped at my jeans.

  “Gunner,” Switch answered. “As in, tail gunner.”

  “Well, Gunn,” Christine said. I couldn’t take my eyes off her friend though. “Thanks for the save.”

  “Anytime,” I answered. Pretty Eyes sucked her Coke, but she wasn’t gonna give me anything else. I felt like I’d managed to piss her off somehow already.

  A sharp whistle drew my attention. Dex had come out from behind the bar and was headed toward Sly’s office. It meant he’d want me watching the bar in his place. I put two fingers up to tell him I got the message.

  “You sure you’re okay?” I said to Pretty Eyes. There was something about her. Something familiar.

  “Where do I know you from?” I asked her. “No way you’ve been in the Den before.”

  She swallowed the last of her drink and set it on the bar. “No way.”

  “Thanks for the drink,” she said. “But it’s past my bedtime. You ready to get out of here Chris?”

  Christine wrinkled her nose, clearly not expecting that. But she was a good friend and slid off her stool. A cheer erupted from the back of the bar along with a round of swearing.

  “You better get on that,” Pretty Eyes said. “Sounds like a rough crowd.”

  Before I could answer her, she and Christine edged their way into the thickest part of that crowd and headed toward the front door.

  I knew it would bug me all evening, where I saw her. I knew that face. But there was something different about her. Maybe she wore her hair another way the last time I saw her? Or she wore glasses? The way she got irritated made me think I might have fucked up. Did we hook up sometime and she expected a call? The minute I thought about it, I knew that had to be it.

  Well, there was no help for it now. I caught a glimpse of her shining dark hair as she made her way out the front door. If we weren’t so damn crowded, I would have walked them out to their car. I didn’t think Dustin would be stupid enough to hang around, but you could never be too sure. I caught Marcus’s eye at the door. I gestured toward the girls and he got the hint. He gave me a thumbs up and went out with them.

  Whoever that chick was, there was no point worrying about it now. The fight crowd got extra rowdy that night and it kept us all on our toes. Switch and I broke up three more fights before closing time at two a.m. At the end of it, I just wanted to crash. I kept a room above the bar like a lot of us did. It was perfect for nights like this.

  As Ford counted receipts behind the counter, I poured myself one last beer. Switch and Angel did a security check in the parking lot. Sly and Dex said their goodnights and took their ladies home.

  “Marcus, you fucking asshole,” Switch said as he walked back in the bar. “Were you smoking something tonight?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Marcus said. We’d all taken seats around the bar. I knew most of them would probably sit here drinking for a few hours yet. Not me. I was done.

  Switch held a red leather lady’s wallet in his hand. He tossed it on the bar. “Found that in the parking lot,” he said. “That chick Gunn was eye fucking must have dropped it.”

  “Which one?” Angel and Ford had a good laugh at my expense.

  I reached over Ford and grabbed the wallet. She was lucky Switch was the one who found it. I figured I’d have him or one of the other guys call her back. If her familiarity with me was what I thought, I didn’t need the fucking drama.

  I flipped the wallet open. Her driver’s license was right in front in a clear plastic window. Pretty Eyes. Fuck. Her birthday was outlined in a big red bar. She was underage. No wonder Switch was pissed at Marcus. She never should have been let in the door. If Sly found out he’d bust a nut.

  I opened my mouth to chime in with Switch. Then I read the name on the ID and the last seven years of my life smacked me right in the gut.

  Brenna Rose. Brenna Elizabeth Rose. Those eyes. That sweet smile. It couldn’t be. Brenna was just a kid in braces. And the last time I saw her, she was crying over her brother’s grave.

  Chapter Two

  Brenna

  “What is with you?” Christine stood in front of the bathroom mirror spiking pieces of her hair with gel. I don’t know how she could be so awake, so cheery after last night. I’d watched her drink four shots of tequila and more than a few beers. She fell asleep on my shoulder when I drove her home from the Wolf Den.

  The Den.

  The second Christine suggested it, I felt like my spinal cord became molten and it got hard to breathe. I’d lived in Green Bluff, California my whole life. The Great Wolves M.C. was part of this town. Getting into the Den was a point of pride for every student at Harrington College. Every time someone tried to get me to go, I found some excuse. I had to study. I wasn’t feeling well. My mom needed me.

  Until last night.

  I stood at the window looking out at the quad. Behind me, Christine had left the door to our dorm room wide open. In another minute, two of the guys from down the hall would show up wanting Christine and me to head to breakfast with them. She had a crush on both of them.

  “That guy was totally checking you out,” she said. She set her comb on the counter and came into the common room.

  “That place is a meat market, Chris. Every straight man in there was checking out anything with tits and a pulse.”

  Christine plopped down on our beat-up, second-hand couch. I’d brought it from home. It was pretty much my one contribution to the room. She hated it but knew it mattered to me to bring it. I hated feeling like I owed her or anyone. But her father was a Silicon Valley millionaire. It was easy for her.

  “Don’t play dumb, Brenna,” she said. “You know exactly who and what I mean. That guy was hot as fuck. Did you see the biceps on him? The way his jeans fit?”

  I turned away from her. Yes. I’d seen it all and so much more. I squeezed my eyes shut and the scene flashed behind them.

  Gunn. They called him Gunn now. Not Brandon. It suited him. Damn it all to hell, but the leather cut he wore suited him too. My brother idolized the men in that club for as long as I could remember. He spent every penny he’d earned doing odd handyman jobs to buy and rebuild an old Harley. He taught himself to ride.

  That familiar, aching pain clawed at my heart just like it did every time I thought of Scotty. I used to love hanging out in the garage, watching him work on that bike. Brandon was always there too. He’d been a giant to me back then. That dark gaze of his could block out the sun. I remember being so scare
d of him at first. I’d been maybe five or six years old the first time he came home with Scotty. I’d called him the Wolf Man and Scotty laughed so hard he cried.

  I wanted them to take me with them every time they’d leave the house together. When Scotty told me no, I used to stomp my feet and cry. Brandon Thompson had seemed so cool in his tight jeans, ripped t-shirts, and aviator sunglasses, like a modern-day James Dean before I even knew who he was.

  Once, they did take me with them. Brandon was a better rider so he put me on the back of his bike. His helmet fell down to my chin. We rode to the woods that day. Scotty had been so angry. He and Brandon told me to wait near the creek while they went and talked. I didn’t, of course. I caught them smoking and threatened to tell. God, I’d been maybe eleven years old. Old enough to know Brandon smelled good. Strong. Masculine. He seemed strong enough to conquer the world. He and my brother settled for conquering my father. We’d gone there that day after Dad came home from a three-day bender and broke my mother’s jaw. They didn’t think I knew. They took me to the woods to try and keep it from me.

  And then, two years later, Scotty was gone and so was Brandon. I was all alone.

  “Brenna!” Christine’s shout hit me like a blow to the back. Startled, I turned and tried to plaster on a smile.

  “Yeah?” I said.

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “Right. Hot guy. Tight jeans. Yes. I noticed him. What of it?”

  Christine rolled her eyes. “You’re the worst, sometimes. Brenna ... I’m saying I want to go back ... tonight.”

  “What, to the Wolf Den? Are you serious? We’re lucky they didn’t throw us out at the door.”

  She turned and picked up the plastic driver’s license off the bookshelf behind her and waved it at me. “I told you my cousin’s connection knew what he was doing. Did you see that burly guy working the door? He looked these things over hard. They’re flawless.”

  Christine’s cousin had made his own small fortune trafficking in fake IDs across campus. How I let her rope me into trying one out is beyond me. I hadn’t paid for the thing. In fact, Christine had him do it behind my back. She flicked the card to me and I caught it against my chest.

  Fingering the edges, I had to admit Christine had a point. Down to the security mark, the ID looked authentic, at least to my eyes. I don’t know what made me do it. But there was something seductive about the idea I could be someone else, at least for a day.

  “I’ll be twenty-one for real in a couple of weeks. Last night was fun, I’ll admit. But I don’t want to push the envelope too many times. There are plenty of bars in town we can go to without needing this to get in.”

  “Again, I say ... you’re the worst sometimes. What fun is that? You may be turning twenty-one in a few, but I still have a year and a half to go. This is another reason why you need to come to Prague with me next semester. I’m legal there. God ... what a blast we’d have.”

  She’d been pestering me about studying abroad next year from the minute she got permission to go. It was out of the question. I had just enough money to make it through without loans for my senior year. I couldn’t afford to be frivolous like she could. Her father paid for everything. My father ... well ... he didn’t.

  I put the ID on the end table next to the couch. “Sorry, you’ll have to find a new partner in crime. That was a one-time deal for me. Plus, we don’t belong in that bar.”

  Christine made a big show out of rolling her eyes and slumping over on the couch. I loved her. I did. But there was a certain level of drama that followed Christine Penner that got old. She didn’t get why I liked things quieter. Her dad had been rich her whole life. She never had to worry about whether she’d be out on the street one month to the next. I doubted she’d ever been woken up in the middle of the night by cops pounding on her front door or seen her mother try to hide her bruises with pancake makeup.

  Laughter from down the hall drew my attention. I did my best to shake off the memories of all my sad stories. God. What had I been thinking letting her drag me to the Wolf Den? I’d tempted fate. I knew there was a good chance Brandon ... no ... Gunn would be there. Why hadn’t I stood my ground and stayed home?

  Before Christine had a chance to launch into another salvo about going back to the Den tonight, Zach and Ben showed up, ready to head down to breakfast. Christine sat straight up as Zach filled the doorframe. He was cute, I’d give her that. He had the kind of looks that could land him on the university catalog. Tall. Blond. Blue eyes. Straight, white teeth. Captain of the lacrosse team. He’d also worked his way through just about every girl in Tyler Hall and now he was moving onto my roommate. She sure could pick them.

  But Ben was nice enough. Zach’s teammate, Ben was more shy and studious. I actually met him first when he sat next to me in a chem class last year. We wouldn’t have survived it without each other. Ben was also deeply in the closet and scared his teammates would find out. It was no small honor that he’d chosen to confide in me last Christmas. I made it my mission to help him find better friends.

  “You get your registration appointment yet?” Ben asked. Christine wasted no time draping herself over Zach. The two of them went right out the door together leaving Ben and me in their wake. I was actually fine with that for now.

  “I can log in tomorrow at two, I think,” I said.

  “Sweet,” he said. “I can’t get in until four thirty. Let me know if the stats course fills up.”

  Though we’d met in chem, Ben and I both ended up declaring business as our major. I’d waffled for months but it was my best chance to get a job after a four-year degree. I didn’t have an endless supply of family cash like virtually everyone else at Harrington College. I knew it might have been wiser to go to a state university. But I wanted to stay in Green Bluff so I could keep tabs on my mother.

  “I’m kind of wishing I hadn’t waited so long to take it,” I said. Math had never been my strong suit and we’d heard a million horror stories about this class all year. I couldn’t graduate without it though and this fall I’d begin my senior year.

  We made small talk and lamented the exam in our Business Law course last week. By the time we made it to the cafeteria, Zach and Christine were already wrapped around each other at a table near the window. Ben pulled out his wallet and found his student ID. He swiped it under the scanner near the food trays and waited for me to do the same.

  I dug in my purse, looking for my own wallet. My fingers closed around my phone, my car keys, and everything else.

  “Shit,” I said. My purse felt lighter than normal.

  “Did you leave your ID upstairs?” Ben asked.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I remember cramming it back in here after I paid for …” I didn’t want to finish that sentence. I’d paid for Christine’s last beer at the Den last night. That was just before we got cornered by those creeps on the make. Just before Brandon Gunn Thompson swaggered back into my life.

  “You want to go check?” Ben asked. “I’ll wait.”

  “Shit,” I said again. “I have a sinking feeling I might have left it at the bar Chris dragged me to last night.”

  “Fuck,” Ben commiserated. “Yeah. You better call. In the meantime, just let me swipe my card again.”

  “Are you sure? I mean ... do you have enough credits?”

  Ben looked at me like I’d sprouted a third eye. “Seriously? It’s fine, Brenna. I can put you on my card all week if you need me to.”

  I don’t have a very good poker face. Ben’s own expression fell as I worked up an answer. “Hey,” he said. “I didn’t mean …”

  “It’s fine. I really did just misplace my wallet, Ben. If you could help me out this once, that’s great.” I found a smile. I know what he thought. Ben’s mother was one of the top personal injury lawyers in the state. Christine had her rich father. Zach was here on a scholarship. I was their poor friend and I knew they knew it.

  He put an arm around me. “Call the place where yo
u think you left it. Then call your credit card companies. You can never be too careful.”

  “Thanks.” We made it through the line but I’d lost my appetite. The pit in my stomach grew. I didn’t know which feeling was worse. Having my wallet in the hands of some thief or stranger or having someone from the Wolf Den picking it up. Either way, Ben was right. I’d have to call.

  We joined Zach and Christine at their table. I forced myself to eat and make conversation, but my head and heart just weren’t there. Only Ben noticed. Zach and Christine were pretty much taking P.D.A.s to a whole new level. After about ten minutes of it, I’d had enough.

  “I’m going to head back,” I said, gathering their empty plates and used silverware onto my tray. “I want to get a jump on this sociology mid-term.”

  Christine finally peeled herself off Zach. “Are you serious? Please tell me you’re not planning on spending your Saturday night at the library again, Bren. I just can’t even …”

  My phone rang and saved me from having to answer. I couldn’t have planned it any better. I balanced the heaping tray in one hand and put my phone to my ear with the other.

  “Hello?”

  I should have checked the caller ID. But the moment the thing rang, I wouldn’t have cared if it was a telemarketer. Anything to keep me from having to rehash this same conversation with Christine.

  “Brenna? Is that really you?”

  It was as if all the air went out of the room. That voice. His voice. I was fourteen years old all over again. He rarely called me by my first name back then. It was always kiddo or brat. There was never any malice in it. I was just a kid. He was just a fantasy. Tough. Cool. Other. But when he did call me Brenna, I used to feel frozen in time. It was happening now.

  “Yes.” It was all I could say. Let him think I had no idea who this was.

  “Wow. I mean ... shit. You looked familiar last night but ... what the hell were you doing in the bar? This is ... Gunn.”