Beneath those gorgeous, rippling muscles lies a monster…a player, a bad boy – a murderer.
Sam Hammond has some nerve showing up to my baby brother’s funeral looking the way he does. He’s so disrespectful – all leather, shredded denim, long hair, and obvious tattoos. It’s like the bastard doesn’t even realize he’s the reason Terry is dead – or doesn’t care.
I know they say it’s Terry’s own fault, but I know better. Terry was just a sweet boy who fell in with a rough crowd. He made some mistakes, sure, but he never could have murdered a man in cold blood.
Now, don’t be fooled by Sam’s hunky, bad boy exterior: he might look hot as hell, but I promise the man is cold as ice. See, Sam is the leader of the Wolves, a wild, rough biker gang my brother had no business being part of. And he’s responsible for a lot of the violence in this town.
Somehow, I know, Terry’s death is Sam’s fault.
I just have to prove it.
Rachel might be beautiful, but she’s untouchable – mostly because she hates my guts.
God help me, but Rachel is completely unbearable. The suburban princess clearly looks down on me and mine, including her own brother, and always has. She was never able to accept Terry for who he was – never wanted to step foot in our world.
And if I have anything to say about it, she never will. There’s no place here for a nine-to-fiver who wears little flowered dresses in our bars – no matter how sexy she looks in them. Especially if she doesn’t look twice at me.
She has no understanding of loyalty, of brotherhood, of all the things that make us Wolves a family. Because she’s so narrow-minded, she will never find out the truth of her brother’s death.
But I will.
That is, if I can keep the gorgeous, stuck up woman off my back