EXCERPT Excerpt Echo My father was a proud example of what a King of Chaos should be: loyal, strong, and ready to take care of business, or defend his own. At one time, he was the apple of my damn eye. I didn’t realize till much later in life how fucked up his views were. We lost my grandfather in his prime to a fucking robbery of all things. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time and caught a bullet to the brain. They found the guy; a black man strung out on heroin. I think that’s where his bullshit beliefs about keeping races separate, and blacks being inferior started. Growing up, I thought he wanted to protect us from people who meant us harm. It was a familiar concept I could accept because it was an extension of us versus them. Civilians and the club. Then I saw how he treated Dixie Rose. Suddenly, I understood what he felt and taught was corrupt and wrong. A hate that knew no bounds. It wasn’t about him protecting those he loved from the outside world, or the people who’d hurt Grandpa. It was an uncontrollable hate for anyone with the wrong color of skin. It screwed with me, divided my loyalties. I’d always been drawn to Dixie Rose. She was a brilliant ray of sunshine, always laughing and smiling. I never understood why my father acted so gruff with her. I made a career of hiding our relationship. Maybe that’s why I thought I could have my cake and eat it too. I was dead fucking wrong. Parked in my car like a little bitch afraid to face the consequences of his actions, I try to form a plan. We’re welcoming Hoss back into the fold officially. It’s the perfect diversion to get her alone. With all the carrying on, I can get her back to my dorm. She’s angry and obstinate, the only way I can get her to sit still long enough to speak with me is by force. I can’t blame her really. I fucked us royally. I’d make good on it if she would let me. I need to prove to her I’ve changed. I wasn’t the man she needed me to be before. That’s changed. Ready to get things started, I step from the car and amble inside. I walk through the club, shaking off the questing hands of the blonde I’d been nailing on a regular basis. The years apart have only reinforced that. I spot her in the corner sipping on a bottle of beer as she watches Slick line up a shot. Her hair is pulled up on top of her head revealing her slender neck. The swell of her full breasts in the form fitting black tank top with the KOC emblem and the tight black pants have my dick twitching. She looks like royalty. Her face isn’t caked with makeup … there’s a delicate beauty to her. With her full lips painted red, and the fringe of eyelashes accentuating those brown orbs that never miss a thing, she is a goddess to me. She’s a part of it, but separate. I want to change that. She deserves to be immersed in the culture she was born to. I walk up on her blindside and lean against the wall beside her. “Here I thought you weren’t going to show,” she drawls. “Good to know you were looking for me,” I say. She scowls. “Don’t flatter yourself. I like to know where my enemies are.” “I’m many things, but your enemy has never been one of them.” “I don’t know, people who hurt me aren’t my friends.” Her words hit their target, but I refuse to let it show. “Not what you said the last time we had a run in.” “So, you make my pussy wet. You taught me all I know; it’s a matter of muscle memory.” I lean down and whisper in her ear, “Fucking bullshit.” “I’m sorry, did I hurt your feelings?” she retorts. “Takes more than that. I want to bring this shit out in the open.” “What?” She blinks owlishly. “No, you can’t do that. I won’t let you do that.” “You think you control me?” “Fuck this.” I lift her up and toss her over my shoulder.