The Lost Boys MC Series: Books 1-4 by Savannah Rylan

Author:Savannah Rylan [Rylan, Savannah]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Pink Empire Publishing
Published: 2020-01-07T16:00:00+00:00

2

Freya

I set the last box of my things down in my childhood bedroom. I heard my father and my mother downstairs, talking lowly to themselves. They’d stop every time I walked by. And while I wasn’t the most worldly individual around, I understood what they were doing. They were talking about me. Talking about what to do with me. What to do with their twenty-three year old daughter that has just moved back into their home after graduating from Arizona State University in Phoenix.

I hated it when they did that kind of stuff.

My father’s motorcycle was what greeted me when I pulled up. My mother always made a habit of parking her SUV in the garage. So, my father always kept his bike outside. Which was a good sign, because it meant things with his crew were good. That he wasn’t in any sort of trouble. But if he ever parked it in the shadows or behind the house, I knew something was wrong.

I knew the crew had gotten themselves into some trouble.

I didn’t really know what my father did for a living. I mean, I speculated a lot as a child. He rode with the Celtic Riders, and I knew he worked. I knew he brought in money for a living because my mother was a stay-at-home mom my entire life. But I didn’t know how the crew brought their money in. I figured it probably wasn’t good. Every once in a while, police would show up asking to see him. Asking to talk with him. Sometimes, the guys from the crew would come by late at night and he’d shoo my mother upstairs with me to play and generally keep me distracted.

I loved my father, but sometimes I was aware of the fact that he did dangerous things with his life.

Everyone always calls me innocent. My father. My mother. My friends from school. They use that word in place of “naive.” Apparently, trusting people until they gave me a reason not to trust them wasn’t smart. But it was how I’d always been. I enjoyed giving people the benefit of the doubt. I guess because of how I was raised. I always gave my father the benefit of the doubt. Other than his mysterious work with the Celtic Riders, he was a good man. A loving man. He was devoted to my mother, came to all of my violin recitals as a child, and even entertained my want to take ballet lessons despite being short and stout my entire life.

I just grew up with the notion that there was more to a person than what they looked like. Or what they did for a living.

College was kind to me. Neither my mother nor my father were happy that I wanted to go Phoenix for school. According to my mother, three hours away was too far. And according to my father, if something were to ever go wrong it would be hard for him to reach me. I loved my parents with all the love I had to offer.

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