The streetlamp began to flicker, casting menacing shadows along the empty street. With each step closer the man took toward us, it felt like the night air was getting thicker.

The group of drunk, half-beaten bikers backed away from Jax, each stepping to one of two sides, parting almost in reverence to make a path for the man. I hurried over to Jax to be by his side.

As the man approached us, his shadow eclipsed both me and Jax. I could see now that he was as tall as Jax, and his shoulders were just as broad, if not broader.

He came to a stop a few feet in front of us. "Huh?" he grunted, his dark eyes boring into each of us in turn. "Who the hell are you guys?"

"Darrel," Bandana said as he settled by the man’s side, "this ass**le’s trying to look tough in front of his girl."

I moved closer to Jax, afraid something bad might happen. Although we’d been outnumbered before, Jax had been able to handle all of them by himself. But now, it seemed like their boss was here. Darrel sent off real bad vibes. I didn’t know whether it was in that look in his eyes that seemed like he was assessing you, identifying your weaknesses, picking apart your flaws, or in the confident way he walked, like a man who possessed no fear. Whatever it was, I could sense that he was a man capable of being extremely dangerous.

I touched Jax’s arm for security, but he didn’t so much as turn his head to acknowledge me; he just kept staring forward with blazing intensity, at Darrel, as if he sensed the same danger as I did.

"Oh?" Darrel stepped forward, narrowing his thick, gray eyebrows as he studied us. "What are you guys doing here?"

I looked to Jax for a response, but his jaw was clamped tight. He seemed to be trying as hard as he could to restrain himself from speaking. His mind must’ve still been on the fight.

"We were trying to leave," I said, in an attempt to defuse the situation.

One of Darrel’s brows raised. "Were you now?" He casually looked at the other bikers who were holding injured limbs and tending to open wounds. "Seems unlikely. In fact, it looks like you were trying to cause trouble in my neighborhood."

The hairs on the back of my neck raised at his accusation. And that he referred to this area as his neighborhood disturbed me. A part of me had hoped that the appearance of this man would stop the fighting for good, but I started to get the sense that his arrival had just made the situation worse. Much worse. I had to choose my words carefully.

"We didn’t mean to," I offered. "We were just acting in defense. We’re sorry."

"Don’t apologize," Jax growled, surprising me. His clenched teeth were bared, and his eyes were fixed on Darrel like a hawk. "We did nothing wrong."

Darrel didn’t look the least bit intimidated by Jax. He took an easy step forward, violating Jax’s personal space. My body tensed. Darrel studied Jax’s angry face for a moment. Then surprise gripped his expression. "That scar on your eyebrow . . . how’d you get it?"

Jax’s teeth ground audibly. His hands tightened into balls by his side. A spike of fear rippled through me from the thought that he was preparing to throw a punch. I grasped his arm, silently urging him not to. If there was a chance we could get out of here without having to fight again, we had to take it. I didn’t want anymore violence. I didn’t want Jax to get hurt.

"It's you, ain't it?" Darrel asked, his sunken eyes now wide.

Jax’s fists were coiled so hard they were shaking. But then I felt his leg tapping against mine and realized that his legs were shaking as well. I felt terrified and confused. I couldn’t tell whether Jax wanted to bash Darrel’s face into a bloody pulp or run far, far away from him.

Darrel smiled, the deep lines around his eyes and mouth twisting sinisterly. "After all these years, my good-for-nothing son that ran away from home has now come back. I’d been thinking that you would’ve been dead by now. Didn’t figure you’d last out there."

Son. The word Darrel used sliced into my brain. Oh god, Darrel is Jax’s dad.

The resemblance finally hit me. The two men were almost eerily similar. I could see it in their builds, in their facial structure, in the deepness of their voices, and most of all in the intensity of their dark eyes. Looking at Darrel was like looking at a future version of Jax, but a drug-worn, menacing version.

How long had it been since Jax last saw this man? Wasn’t he supposed to be in prison? If Jax had already run away from home by the time he was fourteen, it must’ve been at least ten years ago. My chest constricted as the weight of this unplanned reunion sunk in.

"I’m glad I could disappoint you," Jax snarled.

Darrel moved to within a foot in front of Jax, showing no fear of being hit by his son. "You've come to get back at me huh?"

I studied Jax’s reaction. I could see it in the tortured look on his face. He wanted to say no. He wanted to deny coming back here for revenge, to deny coming back to revisit the demons from his past. But the sight of his dad in front of him now, the man who’d tormented him as a child . . . a part of him did want to take revenge now. A part of him wanted to inflict all the things that were done to him back on to the man who did them.

"Look at you now," Darrel growled as he eyed his son from head to toe. "You’re a disgrace—a goddamn embarrassment. You make me sick, wearing those tight leather pants like some sort of faggot."

"Screw you," Jax roared. "You don’t know shit about me!"

"I know you’re weak," Darrel replied, staring Jax down. "Always were. Always will be."

"I’m not afraid of you anymore," Jax bit out, a swell of emotions billowing beneath the surface. "You can’t scare me like you used to."

Darrel’s eyes widened and his lips curved into a grin. "Oh, look at this. Seems like little Jacky boy has grown some balls on him now." Laughing in a way that sent shivers down my spine, he turned his head to look at the other guys. "The boy’s all grown up."

All the bikers laughed.

When Darrel turned back to face Jax, his arm came in a wide hook, bashing Jax across the face.

Jax, taken by surprise received the full force of the hit. He grunted in pain, inadvertently pushing me away as he staggered on his feet.

"Don’t you ever talk to me like that!" Darrel shouted, his eyes red with fury. "You hear me?! Didn’t you learn anything I taught you, boy? Respect your elders."

While Jax was bent-over, recovering, Darrel hopped a step raising his boot backward and kicked Jax in the gut. A gust of wind escaped Jax’s chest, and he collapsed to the ground, clutching at his stomach.

"Stop!" I cried, running to tackle Darrel before he had a chance to kick Jax again.

Just as I was about to tackle him, my head twisted violently.

SMACK!

For a brief moment, there had been enormous pressure on the side of my face, pushing my eye toward my nose until it felt like my eyeball was going to pop out of its socket. I faintly registered my feet lifting off the pavement and my body crashing to the ground like a rag doll. My cheek suddenly burned like a clothes iron had been pressed against it. Dazed, I faintly recalled the image of the back of Darrel’s hand coming out of nowhere and smashing into my cheek.