Hunter (King’s Men MC #1)

Prologue Roman

PROLOGUE: ROMAN

I looked down at the nasty line running up my forearm, starting from the edge of where my palm met my wrist and carefully stopping before it reached the inside of my elbow.

As if the person who had done this to me had been careful.

I closed my eyes and balled my hand into a fist, the pain burning as I stretched the muscles.

This was going to leave a nasty scar.

Not that I gave a fuck about scars, but hell, the fact that I didn’t see the fucker had come in with his friend told me exactly where my mind had been.

Totally fucked.

The fucker was a scrawny one, and his friend wasn’t much bigger.

They shouldn’t have been able to get to me, even if I had been outnumbered.

But they did, and I now bore the mark of my carelessness.

With a sigh, I uncapped the water bottle and poured it down my arms, watching as the clear water turned from a light red to pink, washing away the blood and dirt around the wound.

The angry skin surrounding it stared back at me, and I finished off the water bottle with a huge gulp before shoving it back into my backpack.

My eyes scanned the surroundings.

I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d seen this big of an open space.

California had seemed like worlds away from when I lived in West Virginia, but after a brief stint in the state prison for beating the shit out of the mayor’s son, coming here seemed like a good option to start over.

Micah was here.

He was the only family I had left.

And he couldn’t leave because of the MC.

The King’s Men MC was one of the most ruthless MCs in the west.

I didn’t know exactly what they did since it was club business, and I was sure most of it was something they wouldn’t want advertised to the public.

Micah was a club member, but I knew his more official title was the enforcer.

How apt, considering my big brother was one big scary and crazy motherfucker.

Protective, too.

That was probably one of the reasons why I decided to move halfway across the country in the first place.

I didn’t want to have to constantly live in his shadow.

And now I was coming back with my tail tucked between my fucking legs—figuratively speaking.

I shook my head and headed to where I had parked my bike.

I took in the small luggage strapped to the back. Everything in my twenty-five years of life, shoved in a small case .

The boots I wore, my only pair of shoes, had a small scuff on the tips, no doubt would tear into a hole soon. I had five hundred dollars to my name, and I didn’t know how the fuck things had gotten to this point.

I could laugh over the way my life had turned, even if there was nothing humorous about the situation I was in.

I looked around one last time, taking in the scenery, and was about to hop on the back of my bike when a soft childish grunt came out.

I frowned and looked up, trying to determine where the noise had come from.

Some scuffling came out from my left, and then another grunt, followed by the sound I had heard a million times before.

The fucking sound of a slap.

A child cried out, and I felt all the blood in my body roar to life.

What the fuck?

I quickly followed the sound and came up to a small cliff I had been at no more than twenty minutes prior.

The afternoon sun beat down on the back of my neck, and I squinted around, trying to get my eyes to focus.

I found two figures underneath a large oak tree by the edge of the cliff. A man and a small child. I couldn’t see the man clearly since he was wearing a black cap that hid his face from my view, but I could see the girl.

Black, midnight hair tied in two braids that had long ago come apart, to big light-colored eyes that seemed to take too much from her face. A small set of elvish-like ears stuck out from her small, oval-shaped face, a prominent nose, and a slight figure.

“Shut it. Look what you made me do. I wouldn’t have hit you if you just listened,” the man grunted out.

My nostrils flared, and I took a few quiet steps closer .

The girl child was small. Too small to be facing off against the fucker, who had his filthy arms wrapped around her slender shoulders.

She struggled to get away, her eyes widening a bit in pain when I assumed the fucker tightened his hold around her.

At first glance, she looked all about ten, maybe twelve. I realized she was a little older than that the closer I got. Fourteen or fifteen, perhaps. But she was a tiny little thing.

And she was fucking terrified.

Her eyes seemed to have gotten even bigger, the blood draining from her face.

My fist clenched as I sized up my new opponent.

I had about fifty pounds on the fucker, and several inches in height. I’d tower over them, no doubt.

But the cliff they were at had me hesitating.

She didn’t want to be near this fucker. That much was obvious. And there was something deranged about him.

What if he saw me, got spooked, and pushed her off to save his ass?

I couldn’t risk the girl getting hurt.

There was something fragile about the child. Something vulnerable about her that called to me to protect. To ensure she made it back to her family, no matter what. I couldn’t fucking live with myself if the fucker hurt her, I just knew it.

I didn’t know why, or fuck, how, but it was there.

The undeniable connection that drew me to her.

“Come on, Ryleigh. You want to be an obedient girl, don’t you? Didn’t your father teach you that?”

She bristled, her arms coming up in her struggle. She got in one good shot. I felt my chest puff with pride. She was a fighter.

The man grunted and dropped his arms away, setting her free .

I moved quicker, trying to get to them before the fucker could grab hold of her again.

I came up a second too late.

“Let her go,” I said, my voice low as I leveled a glare at the fucker’s hands grasping the girl’s shoulders tightly.

He pushed her in front of him like the coward that he was. My fist clenched and unclenched as I tried to assess the situation. I avoided eye contact with the girl. I didn’t want to lose my focus or control, and I had a feeling that would happen if I looked at her and found her eyes filled with tears or pain.

“Who the fuck are you? Why don’t you get back to where you crawled from, you filthy son of a bitch?”

He tightened around her, and she let out a small whimper that pierced my heart.

I took a deep breath.

“I don’t think she wants to go with you. So why don’t you let her go and deal with me? Because I guarantee you won’t be leaving this place with her today.”

He laughed. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” I answered. “And I don’t give a fuck. Let. Her. Go.”

He pulled her back toward the cliff, and the girl looked behind them before she tried to get away. I held up my hands.

“Hold up, okay? Let’s just fucking talk about this. Do you really plan to jump off the cliff with her?”

He sniggered, sounding like the deranged man I had thought of moments before. “Jump off? You’re so fucking intent on saving her? Can you save her from the fall? Do you have fucking wings?”

He laughed, and without saying another word, threw her over.

“No!” I shouted. But it was too late. I could only watch in horror as her small body went over, and there was fuck all I could to save her.

The motherfucker ran, but I was no longer paying him any attention. I rushed forward and looked down. The image that greeted me will fucking haunt me for the rest of my life.

Her broken body lay at the bottom, surrounded by sharp, jagged rocks, unmoving.

I looked around for a pathway to get to her and found one to my left.

I grabbed a tree branch to carefully lower myself down, nearly tripping twice on the way, and finally getting to where she lay.

“Hey…” I tried to remember what the man had called her. I didn’t think he had said her name. Fuck. “Girl. Stay with me, okay?”

I brought my fingers up to her neck, almost letting out a small cry of relief when I found a pulse. It was weak, but fuck, it was there. Her cellphone peeked out through the pocket of her jacket, and I grabbed it and put in the call.

“Please have fucking reception,” I muttered to myself. There was a long pause through the line before I heard the ring.

I quickly recited what had happened and told the operator where to find her before hanging up. I’d give them ten minutes.

I looked back down at the girl.

Like this, with her eyes closed, she looked even more vulnerable. I didn’t know where to touch her. I was afraid of making her injuries worse. I lightly petted her forehead.

“You’re going to be okay, girl. No matter what you fucking do, you live. Do you hear me? Live.”

Her eyes fluttered, and I held my breath. She opened them and looked up at me. The glassy quality in them told me she wasn’t really here with me, but the pale gray irises of her eyes still did something to me.

Her gaze was directed right at me.

“You’re going to be fine,” I promised her. “I’m here. And I won’t leave you until the ambulance comes, okay? I won’t leave you alone. I promise. So, keep fighting, girl. For me, okay?”

Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

I didn’t expect her to speak at all, and I was just fucking glad to see her chest pushing up and out with every breath she took.

“You’re going to be fine,” I whispered.

I stayed until I heard the sirens.

I moved my fingers gently down the side of her small face before reaching her neck and checking her pulse one more time.

Still alive.

“Just keep on fighting, little one. You’re going to be fine.”

Then I stood up and climbed back up the cliff, even when everything in me said to stay with her. To not leave, no matter the consequences. But I knew how this world works. And I knew a man with my record would be blamed for her situation, and fuck, perhaps a part of me thought I should bear the blame.

The fucker wouldn’t have thrown her over if I didn’t show my face too soon.

I quickly made my way to where my motorcycle was parked and hopped on, riding away from the path. I hid there as the police cruisers and ambulance showed up.

I didn’t know how much time had passed since I stayed where I was hiding, watching as the scene unfolded, but it was long after the ambulance had taken her away.

Just keep on fighting.