She was nothing more than a friend, until she was ripped from my clutches.

Falcon

Over my entire life, I always saw my fair share of action. I saw more of it than most between my time serving in the United States Marines, and being the Prez of the Deathstalkers MC.

After a while, I became accustomed to it. But, there was only one thing I never got used to: attacks on the people I cared about.

A good friend came to me and let me know Hermione was missing. Hermione, the owner of the local coffee shop, who I’d been friends with for years. She was the type of woman who always showed up to work and never called out, so the fact the coffee shop was closed for a week alarmed everyone.

I had a member of my club look into Hermione’s electronic footprint, and I retraced every step. But, her cell went off near a tower and I had nothing else to go on except hope. I knew I’d find her, because I didn’t have another option. Foul play was involved. I could sense it in the very fiber of my being.

Low and behold, I find her in the last place I expected her to be—in my enemy’s clutches.

Hermione

My life has always been simple. I went to college, saved up money, and started my business. It wasn’t anything overly special, but The Java Zone was my pride and joy. I worked every day of the week and long hours, which left little time for dating. It was the only thing I ever wanted, and one day my entire life changed.

A motorcycle club came into my coffee shop and I didn’t think anything of it. My good friend, Falcon, was the Prez of the Deathstalkers MC and I knew these men might be rough around the edges, but deep down they’re good people. At least, I thought they were. But, nothing about the men that came into my coffee shop was kind.

Little did I know, I was lied to my entire life. The man I called my father wasn’t actually my father. If that wasn’t enough of a shock, the men who came into my shop hit me on the side of my head and took me with them. I woke up in a place I didn’t recognize, and I was riddled with fear.

I only wanted one thing: to leave.

But how was I going to do that? No one knew where I was . . . and after a while, I was convinced I would die there.

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