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and bolts. But the club van and the flatbed were both gone. Demon had only his little bobber. He had no idea how the fuck he was supposed to manage to bring these parts back from the salvage yard. Or why Hoosier was even trusting him with a job like this. It felt like it was preloaded for a fuckup.
     
    Maybe he could rent a U-Haul? No way. He was tapped out. Plus, he didn’t think they would rent to a twenty-one-year-old, even if he’d had the scratch.
     
    So he just stood there, the cheerful sun beating down on his head. The gorgeous day was mocking him.
     
    “You get stuck on a wad of gum or something?”
     
    He knew the voice coming up behind him, and he got a hit of adrenaline. Faith—Blue’s daughter. He thought about her way too fucking much, and no matter how hard he tried to avoid her, he kept finding himself crossing paths with her. She was sweet and sarcastic, and so pretty—long, dark hair; big, beautiful eyes in a color that seemed different every time he saw them. She was small and slim, with pretty little tits…FUCK. Fucking stop it!
     
    She was a patch’s daughter. She was the fucking SAA’s daughter. She was sixteen years old. He was trapped between needing to stay the fuck away and needing to be nice to her. And wanting her a crazy amount of want.
     
    He’d never really wanted anybody before. Sex was not a thing he’d thought much about until recently. In fact, it was a thing he’d tried not to think about. Usually when he thought about it, he didn’t think happy thoughts.
     
    He’d gone into the system when he was two years old, and he’d never had a private-home placement for more than a few weeks. By the time he was seven, he had such a long list of letters attached to his file no family would come near him.
     
    ODD—Oppositional Defiant Disorder. ADHD—Attention Deficit-Hyperactivity Disorder. OCD—Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. BPD—Borderline Personality Disorder. Bi-polar Disorder. Chronic Depression. He’d been diagnosed at some point with all of those things. He had no idea if he actually had them all—or if he even had any of them.
     
    But nobody wanted a kid like that.
     
    He hadn’t known that at the time, of course. He’d found all that out when he’d aged out and seen his file. At the time, he’d just been a kid nobody wanted. So he’d grown up in group homes. And juvie—a few years there, too.
     
    Not much difference between one or the other, frankly. In both places, he’d fought for his life on a pretty regular basis. In both places, somebody bigger and stronger had always held him down in one way or another. Until he’d gotten big and strong enough to resist and to win.
     
    So sex wasn’t something he was all that keen on. Once he was on his own, he’d avoided it all.
     
    But then he’d found the club. By the time he’d applied to prospect, he understood that there were things about that life he was going to need to get right with. He didn’t want to start out that way in the clubhouse, around people he knew. So he’d saved up and bought himself a whole night with a hooker.
     
    She was pretty nice and really patient. He thought of that as the night he lost his virginity, whether that was true or not. Just about four months ago.
     
    Since then, he’d gotten comfortable with the girls in the clubhouse. He even thought maybe he was getting decent at it, and usually he had only good thoughts now. As a Prospect, he got the leftovers, but that was okay with him. He was just trying to get used to all this without anybody knowing that was what he was trying to do.
     
    Faith, Blue’s youngest daughter, was the first girl he’d ever really wanted. And it was wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong. Like head-on-a-pike wrong.
     
    “Michael? Are you in there?” She still called him Michael. She was already the only one who still did. He didn’t correct her. He liked it.
     
    “Yeah, sorry. What’s up?” He strove to keep his voice nonchalant. “Shouldn’t