Road to the Edge

Growing up the son of an MC VP, I thought I understood club life. But then my president opened the front gate and let our enemy stroll right in, causing me to question everything.

Then she walked in, or should I say, barged in, fists waving, tongue lashing, and the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. How I was gonna get a handle on this woman and my club, I had no idea.

Echo Weston

Being neurodivergent means I can’t always ‘read the room.’ This can be a problem when that room happens to be the yard of a motorcycle club compound. At first, I was too busy yelling at the biker to notice how impossibly gorgeous he was, but once my brain caught up with itself, he is all I can think about.

But how can a heart that only sees in black and white beat in his world of grey.