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Frank looked past Wade at her and smiled, making her skin crawl. She hated it when he smiled at her like that because it usually meant that he was about to hurt her. “This isn’t over, Harlow,” he spat, looking back at Wade. “Let’s go,” he said to his men. She didn’t let out the breath that she had been holding until he drove away. She knew that she wasn’t safe, not by a long shot, but she was still standing, and that was all that mattered right now.

“Problem solved,” one of the bikers said from the back corner.

“No,” she whispered, “it’s only getting started.”

Wade’s Wrath Universal Link-> Coming soon!

Do you love the Huntsville Royal Bastards and need another spin-off? Then, you won’t want to miss Vengeance (Royal Hellions MC Book 1) (The Next Generation of the Royal Bastards MC: Huntsville Chapter). It’s releasing in August, 2026.

CHLOE

Chloe stood behind the bar at Savage Hell, not sure if she wanted to cry or laugh at herself for being there instead of her father’s funeral. Savage was dead, and her entire world felt as though it was falling apart. She wondered how Savage would feel about her missing his final farewells, but he was never one to appreciate pomp and big displays of emotion. She was sure that the big bad bikers who called him Prez were sitting in front of his casket, bawling their eyes out, but she just couldn’t do that. Savage would have told everyone to stop crying over him and get back to what they needed to be doing. Maybe it was the rocket scientist in him, but he liked everything to run the way that it was supposed to—even his club. But right now, the future of Savage Hell and their chapter of the Royal Bastards was questionable.

Her mom, Dallas, and her second dad, Bowie, were beyond stressed with Savage’s sudden passing. He had heart issues in the past, but they all thought that was resolved. None of them saw the heart attack coming, but it came, nonetheless. And while all she wanted to do was avoid everything having to do with her father’s funeral, her parents didn’t have that luxury.

And then, there was the press. For some odd reason, the local news picked up on Savage’s passing and made a big deal of the fact that he was married to not only a woman, but also a man. The guys in the club had accepted their relationship. Bowie had even become the club’s VP until he retired from that position a few months back. He hadn’t been back into the bar since Savage died, saying that he just couldn’t be there. Maybe they all had their own ways of dealing with their grief, but the thought of Savage Hell ending with her father wasn’t acceptable to her.

She had grown up in the club, and the bikers were her uncles, for the most part. But they were all getting older and had moved on from Huntsville, Alabama, after their kids had all grown up. She couldn’t blame them for wanting a fresh start in a new place. She had thought about doing just that many times, but leaving her family wasn’t an option—especially now that they had lost such a vital part.

“Why are you here?” a man asked from behind her. She hadn’t heard anyone come into the bar, but then, she was lost in her own world of grief.

“Um, we’re closed,” she breathed.

His smile was mean, and she worried that he wasn’t there for a beer. “Yeah, I heard about Savage’s death. I guess everyone's at the funeral.” He wasn’t really asking, which sent red flags dancing through her head.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” she asked.

He quickly crossed the bar and held out his hand to her. Chloe looked it over, trying to decide if she wanted to shake it or not. She had always been leery of men—especially bikers. Her therapist insists that it had everything to do with being abducted by a rival club when she was a kid, but she was sure that it had more to do with her overprotective fathers. They had very strict rules about who she was and wasn’t allowed to date. And rule number one was: No dating any of the Savage Hell clubmembers. Since she spent the majority of her time at the club, helping out behind the bar and in the kitchen as she worked her way through community college, their rules really limited her dating life. Sure, she could have found a guy at college to date, but they all seemed like little boys compared to the bikers she hung around with at Savage Hell. She didn’t want to tell her fathers that she liked bikers, but she did. They were gruff, didn’t make any apologies, and didn’t give a fuck about what other people thought about them. She liked all those qualities in a man, which her therapist said is because she has daddy issues, times two. She was right—but there was no way that she would tell her that. Chloe liked to give her therapist a hard time to really get her money's worth.

The man looked her over and put his hands on his hips. Chloe let her eyes roam his body, and that was her first mistake. “Name’s Vengeance,” he drawled, seeming to like the attention that she was paying him. For some reason, she didn’t care that she was shamelessly staring him down.

“Why are you here, Vengeance?” she asked, trying to keep up with their conversation.

“I’m here to talk to you,” he said.

“Me,” she breathed, “up until a few minutes ago, you didn’t know that I was here. In fact, you even seemed surprised by me standing here at the bar. So, you want to try that again?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips to mimic him. He smiled down at her, and her girl parts did a happy dance. She walked around him and grabbed her phone. “You have two seconds to get out of my father’s bar before I call the cops.”

“Don’t be like that, Chloe,” he said.

She gasped when she realized that he knew her name. “How do you know my name?” she asked. “I never told you my name.” She waited him out until he took a step toward her, invading her personal space.

“I told you, Chloe, I’m here for you. We need to talk, and we can do that here, or I can take you someplace where you’ll have no choice but to pay attention.”

“The fuck you will,” she spat. “I’m not going anywhere with you.” She stepped back from him and stopped only when her ass hit the bar top. Chloe started calling the cops when he took the phone from her. She protested, reaching for her phone, but at just five-three, she was no match for someone his height. He had to be about six-five, and she wasn’t going to get back her phone without him giving it to her.

He held it in the air, over both of their heads, as she jumped around him. He chuckled at her efforts, but she felt a lot less amused by the whole scene.

“I can do this all day, but sooner or later, someone worse than me is going to show up here to talk to you, and they won’t be as nice as I’ve been. Or as handsome,” he teased, bobbing his eyebrows at her, but she didn’t laugh. She didn’t even crack a smile.

“Who’s going to show up here?” she asked him.

He shrugged and put her cell phone into his pocket. “You don’t want to know,” he insisted. “Let’s just say that I’m here as a friend, but the next guy who shows up won’t be as friendly.”

“Stealing my phone and demanding that I talk to you is your version of being friendly?” she asked.

“Can we just sit down, and you let me say what I came here to say, and then, I’ll leave,” he promised. She noted that the clock on the wall read four, and that meant that the funeral was probably wrapping up. Bowie and the rest of the club would be back at Savage Hell to drink. Her mom, Dallas, would go home to take care of Chloe’s little brothers and sisters. Her parents had twelve kids, and Savage used to joke that they were not cheaper by the dozen, but she knew that he wouldn’t have things any other way.

“All you want to do is talk and then, you’ll leave?” she questioned. He nodded, and she held out her hand. “Give me a show of good faith,” she insisted, “give me back my phone, and I’ll listen to what you have to say.” He stood there for a few minutes, just staring her down, as though he was trying to decide what to do about her proposition.