Dark Savior: Standalone MC Romance

This has been edited but NOT proofread.

Rachel

Three years was a long fucking time to go without seeing my family. It’d been three years since I stepped through these clubhouse gates. Three years since I saw my brother and his wife, Brittany. Three years since I saw my parents outside of a computer screen. I had a niece I didn’t even truly know.

The club had been dragging me down when I decided to leave this place. When I left, I was failing school, on the verge of dropping out. My senior year had been about to go to complete shit. My life was on a catastrophic, downward spiral.

When my grandfather found out, he put his foot down and told my parents he was taking me away from the club. Away from the shit that always circled this family. Away from all the darkness and bullshit that had been dragging me down.

I graduated five months later. I even did two years of community college after that.

And then, my family’s shit found me.

I knew it would only be a matter of time, butfuck, I hadn’t expected them to come down on me so hard. Two men—one with a patch over his right eye—from a rival club—the Souls of Grim MC—had tried to snatch me right outside of the grocery store in broad damn daylight. If that old lady hadn’t smacked one upside the head with her huge purse, I would no doubt either be kidnapped, searching for a way out of whatever situation I’d ended up in, or dead and buried in a shallow grave somewhere, never to be found or heard from again.

When I’d called my grandfather, telling him what had happened, he told me to go home to the club. Immediately. Fuck my shit. Fuck my first year of university about to start.

His order had been to go home. He wouldn’t even let me come say goodbye.

I knew right then that something was going on, and it had to do with my grandfather—the one who started the Royal Saints MC. And whatever this rival club wanted with him, they found out I was connected to him.

Just fuckin’ lovely.

The gravel crunched under my combat boots as I made my way to the clubhouse doors. The place was quiet, which meant everyone was probably asleep or out doing their own thing. Which usually meant things were quiet for the club for the time being.

Wasn’t going to last long now that I was home though. If there was one thing I knew about clubs like the Souls of Grim MC, it was that they stopped at nothing to get what they wanted. And for some reason, they wanted me.

The Souls of Grim knew who I was now, and if they were trying to use me to get something out of my grandfather, they wouldn’t be forgetting about me anytime soon.

“Hey, can you—” Brittany stared at me with wide eyes as I stepped through the clubhouse doors. She dropped the glass she’d been holding, and it shattered at her feet. My niece, Emma—who I only knew through a video screen—squeaked in alarm, looking around for the cause of the loud noise.

I lifted a hand and waved at Brittany, my other hand hanging limply at my side. “Hi.”

“Holy shit,” she breathed. She moved around the counter and swept me into her arms. I quickly hugged her back, my chest growing tight. How long had it been since I’d been wrapped in my sister-in-law’s loving, safe arms? “I can’t believe you’re home.” She leaned back and gripped my upper arms, running her eyes over me. “No one mentioned you were coming.”

I shrugged carelessly. “No one knew.”

Hell, I hadn’t even known until a few hours ago.

“Babe, what the fuck—Rachel?” Carter breathed, staring at me as he came out of the back hallway. He rubbed his eyes with the pads of his fingers before blinking at me again. “Holy shit. It is you.” Quickly, he moved forward, sweeping me into a hug. I sank into his embrace, my eyes closing of their own volition. There was nothing better in the world than a brother’s hug. I’d missed the hell out of him. “Fuck, what are you doing home?”

I shrugged for the umpteenth time as he released me, leaning down to sweep his daughter off the floor. She looked so much different in real life than she had through a phone screen. Blonde curls flopped all over her head, too short to do anything with yet and just long enough to be unruly. Her blue eyes were an exact replica of my brother’s.

And her smile was literally everything. So full of innocence and joy.

I hoped this club never touched her the way it had touched me.

“Needed a change in scenery,” I lied. “Thought I could come home for a little while.”

Carter frowned at me. “But aren’t you set to start uni in the fall?”

I waved him off. “I’ll be back with granddad before then.” I hoped.

Carter grinned at me. “Well, it’s good to have you back, even if it’s just for a little while, sis.” He jerked his head toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll get you set up in a room. Doubt you wanna stay with Mom and Dad.” I grimaced at the idea, making him laugh. My parents and I clashed heads more often than not. Even while living with Granddad, anytime they came around or I had to talk to them, we ended up fighting.

Emma squealed and smacked her hands to Carter’s cheeks. He blew a raspberry at her as he led me down the hall. “Yeah, didn’t think you did.” He glanced at my empty hands. “No bags?”

I snorted. “You know me—fly by the seat of my pants. So nope. No bags.”

He sighed, eyeing me suspiciously for a moment. I held his stare, and thankfully, he didn’t pry. “You need money for clothes since you’re still irresponsible?”

I ignored the dig and the irritation that swept through me at it. I had a part to play, which was to not let them know what was going on—not yet. Granddad hadn’t brought them into this, so I wouldn’t either.

“If you’re offering, then fuck yeah. Broke as shit.”

Carter snorted. “Somehow, I doubt that, but I’ll get you some cash in a bit anyway.”

I grinned and clapped him on the back as he pushed open the last door at the end of the hall. “You’re the fuckin’ best,” I told him as I stepped around him and into the room. It was bare of everything but furniture. The bed was unmade. The dresser and nightstand drawers were pulled out a bit to let them remain aired out. The closet and bathroom doors were open—both rooms empty.

I had a lot of shopping to do, apparently. Just great. I hated shopping. It was too damn time consuming.

“No sheets?” I asked, turning to look at my brother.

Carter shook his head. “Nope. You want sheets, you buy sheets.”

“Dick,” I muttered.

He laughed and lifted Emma’s hand to wave at me. She squealed, and I couldn’t stop the smile from tilting my lips. “Good to have you back home, sis.”

~*~*~

Smoke filled my lungs as I inhaled on the blunt before lowering it from my lips and slowly blowing the smoke out. I knew it was only a matter of time before Mom and Dad found out I was here at the clubhouse, but I was putting it off as long as possible. Carter had promised me he wouldn’t say anything, but that didn’t mean one of the other members wouldn’t run their mouths.

I loved my parents, but this club had always come first for them. Didn’t matter how old we were, that had never changed. And while things had been mostly pleasant the last three years I was away, even if we did fight, I knew it was only because we weren’t in each other’s physical presence.

In person, shit rarely went well. I was too headstrong. Never wanted to fall in line. And them? Yeah… they liked being obeyed without question.

Newsflash for them—I didn’t wear a cut. Never would. I was their daughter. Not a fucking patched member.

“Well, well, well, look what the fuckin’ cat dragged in.”

I looked over, my heart lurching into my throat at the sight of the man I’d been in love with since I was a teen.

Callan Elliot—Sergeant at Arms of the Royal Saints MC.

He was older than me by ten years, a bit of an asshole, overbearing, overprotective…

And the hottest fucking man I’d ever laid my eyes on. Even now, three years later, he had the ability to make my body come alive with one look.

His beard still hung down to the top of his shirt, and he still wore black t-shirts and grease-stained jeans. His dark eyes were covered by his shades, but I knew they would be hard and unflinching. Cold. Just as they always had been. And even though he seemed unfeeling as fuck—a bit detached from the world—something about him had always soothed me.

“Got some new ink, I see,” I noted, nodding at his muscular arms, which were now fully covered in tats.

He grunted and sat beside me on the picnic table. I held the blunt out to him, and he took it, placing it between his lips. “What brought you back to this shithole?” he asked, passing the blunt back to me after he blew smoke into the air.

I grunted. “Felt like a change in scenery,” I lied.

He hummed, and I knew he didn’t believe me. I could lie with the best of them, but somehow, Callan always saw through my shit. Every single fucking time. It was annoying… and also a bit nice for someone to actually see me.

“You sure about that, girly?”

I looked over at him, blowing smoke out the corner of my lips. “The fuck are you? My daddy?”

He placed his hand on the picnic table behind me, his thumb brushing against my ass through my leggings. My breath hitched in my throat. Warm curled in my lower stomach, and my nipples threatened to rip right through my fucking bra.

Christ. He’d barely even touched me.

Callan leaned in, his face a mere two inches from mine. “Want me to be?”

Holy fuckin’ shit, he did not just say that.

“I—”

My words were cut off when the sound of two bikes riding onto the lot reached my ears. Callan and I looked over at the same time, and I sighed. “Just great,” I muttered. I stood to my feet, Callan immediately following. Mom and Dad turned their bikes off, their eyes on me. “Wish me luck?” I asked, looking up at Callan.

He snorted and took the blunt from between my fingers. “As if you’ll need it, girly. You can play the good girl part all you want, but at your core, you’re just a rotten apple like the rest of us. You can leave this club, sweetheart,” I could feel his eyes boring into mine through those dark, reflective shades, “but this club ain’t ever leavin’ you.”

With that, he strode inside, leaving me to face my parents by myself…

And leave me wondering if maybe he was right. Because as soon as I’d ridden through those gates in my shiny, expensive Range Rover, old habits had fallen right into place.

The brat was back, every defense in my body locking back into place.