Sassy Road is tough, beautiful, smart and looking for a little retribution against the stepfather who abused her.
Enter Logan Marcs. Logan belongs to Heroes and Rogues, a small town renegade motorcycle club with a bad reputation. Only Logan isn’t exactly loyal to the MC. He’s an undercover cop who’s been in place for several years, and he’s days away from taking down rival club leader Damsel Road.
A new gal arrives at the H & R clubhouse and, after spending time with Sassy, Logan quickly realizes the newcomer is the step-daughter of a man he is supposed to put away for life. Unable to deny his infatuation with the lovely Miss Road, Logan’s life just became more complicated. To make the situation worse, vultures are circling. If Logan doesn’t claim Sassy as his old lady, club members will pass her around for their own twisted pleasure.
Logan refuses to see Sassy used, but when he discovers her true motive for associating with the Heroes and Rogues, he fears an intimate involvement could destroy them both.
Then again, losing Sassy is a higher price than he’s willing to pay.
The woman was intimidating, or at least she put forth a documented effort. She hit Sassy with a terrorizing stare. Her leathery skin wrinkled around her narrowed eyes. She stared at the low dip of Sassy’s shirt and then allowed her gaze to wander up and down.
Wearing a red and white checkered halter-style top and short-shorts, the curvy broad waved her hand toward the first woman Sassy encountered. “I’ll handle this, Britt.”
“You sure, Cara?” the young woman asked, chomping on her chewing gum.
Cara gave her a firm glare. The younger gal disappeared, careful to bend down and pick up the stick she’d clumsily thrown to the ground when Sassy had entered the building.
Obviously the women around there felt compelled to protect their territorial claims. Outstanding as those claims were.
“Where’s your car?” Cara asked, crossing her arms over her chest as if she didn’t believe Sassy’s story.
“Straight down Beech Creek Road.”
“A few miles.”
“What happened? Did you walk down the street with blinders on and miss the houses you passed along the way? Depending on which way you were traveling, you might have strolled right by another MC clubhouse.” She arched a brow, changed her pose, and snapped, “What other business do you have here?”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” a man called out in the distance, leaving the bar. “Give the girl a break, Cara.”
“She ain’t no girl, Tigger.” Cara’s eyes became as cold as ice when the biker joined them at the door.
“You got that right,” he said, a little too much play in his voice. “Say you’ve got trouble, sweet thing?”
Cara stomped off, and Sassy noticed she went directly to the bar where she immediately began whispering to the man seated there. The lighting was dim but Sassy was pretty sure she was gaping at Logan Marcs’s profile.
Sassy released a weighted sigh. “I’m driving a loaner. A friend of mine, Scott Matthews, let me borrow his car for a road trip.”
“You throwing out a name for a reason?” Tigger asked.
The biker seated at the bar stood. As he stalked them, Sassy felt a sudden chill down her spine, generally the only warning she received before a facial spasm occurred. Only this was different. She was in awe.
Logan Marcs. In the flesh. Too much time had elapsed since their last meeting.
Logan took long strides, calculated steps. “Scott Matthews?” he asked in a gruff voice.
“You know him?” Tigger asked.
Logan’s lips spread in a wide smile. “Damn right I do. He used to ride with me and a few buddies when we went to Pigeon Forge’s Rumble in the Mountains. Back then, Scott was with the Angels. He was once credited for keeping the peace.”
Tigger frowned. “Must’ve been before Damsel took the gavel.”
“That’s right,” Logan said. He stopped short of further reminiscing by tilting his chin and nodding toward her. “Who are you?”
“Scott was my old man,” she quickly informed him. “He and I split when his ex begged him to kiss and make up.”
Logan rubbed the stubble on his chin and quickly fired back with, “He split with Vicky?”
“Sharon,” she corrected him, realizing his purposeful slip was a probable test.
Logan studied her intently before addressing the other fellow. “Tigger, Cara is falling to pieces. I’ll handle this.”
“I bet you will,” Tigger said, swatting Logan between the shoulder blades as he headed back to make amends with the woman who was apparently the club member’s old lady. If she wasn’t, she should’ve been considering her actions. Even from across the dark room, Sassy could practically see the steam swirling from Cara’s ears. Thumbing the air behind him, Logan said, “Let me grab my jacket. My bike is out back. We’ll take a ride and see if we can’t figure out what’s wrong with your car.”
“I’d appreciate that.”
Logan frowned, indicating he wasn’t exactly happy to oblige a damsel in distress. “Follow me.”
Sassy stepped right in behind him as he led the way. Crossing the room, he snatched his customary biker jacket adorned with patches and club colors, threw the coat over his shoulder and said, “This way.”
“You two kids have fun,” Tigger teased, turning up his bottle. Before they made their way outside, Tigger added, “By the way, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Sassy,” she fired back, realizing she hadn’t thought about her alias until it was too late to provide one.
Logan stopped in front of her. “Sassy what?”
Wondering if Logan recalled the mousy young girl he’d known in high school, the classmate who was too afraid of her shadow to emerge from the back of the room and talk with fellow students, she strutted by him, gave the door a push and exited the building. “My mother always told me not to give a man too much information on the first date.”
She didn’t stop or turn around. Logan took the bait. He stayed right behind her, practically on her heels. “I thought you needed a lift and wanted someone to take a look at that car of yours.”
“I do,” she assured him, taking the helmet he handed her when they approached what was apparently his bike, a beautiful black and silver Harley. Logan smirked. “If that’s your kind of date, lady, then I’m game for anything.”
Affixing the helmet on her head, she positioned the strap under her chin. “Good, because I have a feeling you’ll enjoy my company enough that afterwards you’ll insist on buying me a drink.”