Ravage Page 2

I don’t respond. There’s no need to. I knew it would get done because I know my men. They’re loyal to a fault.

Which is why I go on alert when a ripple of discomfort goes through him before he rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably. Day’s smaller than me by maybe a couple of inches and I’ve got brawn on him as well—hardly surprising, I’m usually the biggest fucker in any room—but Daimon’s a decent fighter and he’s not someone to underestimate. I might be larger, but I have no doubt in a fight we’d be evenly matched.


“There’s a small issue…”

If he’s fucked something up, I’ve no problem taking a fist to his face. He’ll have no problem letting me either. That’s the way of our world. The dynamic power balance that keeps things in check. The plod thinks we’re a bunch of disorganised thugs that ride bikes and peddle powder. They couldn’t be more wrong.

He doesn’t say anything, despite starting this direction. Instantly, all my synapses tingle and snap to attention. I’m not going to like where he’s going with this, am I?


“Fuck,” he spits out the word. “I don’t want to tell you this, Rav, but forewarned is forearmed, right?”

I really don’t like where this is going. “Spill. What’s going on?”

He drops his hands from behind his neck and meets my gaze. “I saw Sasha last night.”

Five little words guaranteed to make my head explode.

Only one of those words is needed: Sasha.

That fucking bitch.

In my thirty-two years of life, I’ve never felt this kind of anger towards a woman, but Sasha has the ability to make those monsters surface. I take a breath and count back from ten, but no amount of counting it out is going to fix this shit.

I had no idea I could become so entwined with one person that she could become my reason for existing. I had no idea how much it would shred me when she was no longer in my life.

“You okay, Prez?” Daimon peers at me and points at my eye. “You’ve got this twitch thing—”

“Where?” I grind out.

He grimaces. “Oh, man, come on, don’t torture yourself.”

“Where?” I repeat.

“She was coming out of the hospital on Gillespie. The past is best left where it is.”

Usually, I would agree, but Sasha isn’t just my past. She’s my present, future, and everything in between. Why in the hell is she back in town? When she left, she didn’t look back, and I didn’t expect to see her again—not on my turf. She’s either stupid or brave coming back here. I don’t know which, but what I do know is she can’t be here when I am.

“Do you need a minute, or ten?” Daimon asks, leaning against the bar.

The patch on the left breast of his kutte reads ‘Treasurer’, just as mine says ‘President’. Yeah, this daft arse is my money man. He’s in his early thirties but most of the time acts like he’s in his early sixties. I don’t care, though, because he makes the pennies and the pounds disappear and reappear in legitimate ways. He keeps all of us out of prison doing it. The leather vest he wears is worn around the neckline and arm holes, but it’s not as battered as mine, but then I’ve got a few years on him. Even so, he’s one of my best men.

Right now, though, I want to punch his stupid face in.

“Was she alone?” I grit out.


I shouldn’t ask. I shouldn’t care, but I do anyway. “Did she look…”

“She looked fine,” he finishes my unspoken question.

My hands go behind my head, my fingers interlocking at my nape. “Fuck. What’s she doing here?”

“Do you want me to find out?”

I point at him. “You stay away from her. Everyone stays away from her. That’s an order.”

“Rav, come on. You can’t mean that. I know she did you dirty, but she’s Priest’s kid—”

“I don’t give a fuck. He’s dead. She’s got no reason to be here anymore. I see anyone talking to her, being around her, I’ll kick them out of this clubhouse myself.”

I don’t wait for his response. I turn and walk away before I say anything else I’m going to regret, but fuck, knowing Sasha is back in town is messing with my head. I head straight for my office, needing to be alone to digest this shit.

Sasha Montgomery.

Fuck me.

That’s a name I didn’t think I’d hear again. Not ever. Not with how she left. Coming back is ballsy, but then again, she always has been. It is one of the things I love about her—loved about her.









Being back in Kessington is giving me palpitations, although I don’t let any sign of that show on my face. I’ll never show my fear. To show fear is a way for people to take advantage, and I had that happen to me once. I’ll never repeat it.

Even so, everywhere I look, I’m sure I see bikers or hear the rumbling of pipes, but it’s all in my head. I haven’t seen any members of the Untamed Sons since I came back to town—a town I thought I’d left behind for good.

It doesn’t give me warm or happy memories being here.

The borough of Kessington is no different from any other in London. It’s got its share of good and bad people. There are high-rises that line the horizon and most of the high street has moved onto more affluent parts of the city, leaving boarded up shops tagged with graffiti. At some points in the day the smog from the traffic is so bad it’s like moving through a fog, so living above the smog is considered prime real estate.

It’s also home to the Untamed Sons, a motorcycle club with a reputation so dark, it’s said hell spat them back out. They rule Kessington with an ironclad fist. No one operates in the borough without their say so. Those who do disappear fast.

There was a time when this was home. It was all I ever knew and all I ever wanted to know. My life was as entwined with the Sons as Tyler’s was. He was always destined to become president, just as I was destined to stand at his side as his old lady. That had been the way we envisaged it from before Ty was old enough to even ride and I was too young to know what being an old lady entailed. Now, I’m twenty-eight and have lived a life most people double my age never have.

But I broke the cardinal rule. I walked away from the president of one of the most notorious MCs in the country and I did it without any hesitation. At the time, I needed to disappear, to leave my life behind. I didn’t consider the damage, what the fallout would be. I didn’t consider how much my actions would hurt Ty.

Then the fear came, because while I knew the old Tyler would never hurt me, I wasn’t so sure about the man who was morphing into ‘Ravage’. He was a different beast, one I was still finding my feet with. Now, I’m not sure what he’d do to me if he sees me.

Part of me thinks I deserve whatever he’d dole out. I was, after all, the one who disappeared without any explanation. I was the one who hurt him, but I had my reasons. Good ones, at the time. Now, I’m not so sure.

Especially now.

Pushing through the crowd of people milling on the pavements, I keep my head down, my hair curtaining my face, hoping I won’t be recognised. It goes against everything in my body that tells me to hold my chin high and not give a fuck, but there’s more at stake here than just me, and all it takes is for one person to see me and feed it back to Ty. At one time, I was as well known in this town as he was, so I’m taking a risk walking around like this, but I don’t have a choice. This is the only hospital in the area that could treat Lily-May and for her I’d walk on broken glass or step into the fire.

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