Tracker’s End Novel – He said he loved me, and I believed him. But my good friend told me that he had a girlfriend and they had been together for two years. Jesus. All my enthusiasm was gone. Then what was the relationship between him and me? I hated him! “Don’t flirt with her. You have a woman, remember?” I was heartbroken to hear that he was already taken, and it was clear that this was not a man I could trust. I tried to keep a straight face, but my heart was crying. My thoughts were proven correct when a beautiful woman walked up to him. I realized she was a beautiful woman, she placed her hands on his chest and had a seductive look on her face. She was everything I wasn’t. Sometimes you have to know who you are and who you are not. Don’t fall into a man’s trap.
ANNA, who is this?” a blond god calls out. I step closer to my best friend. When Anna moved back into town, I’d never have guessed I’d be thrust into a world of motorcycle clubs and insanely hot yet dangerous bikers. Nothing is going to be boring around here from now on—that’s for sure. The man who approaches us is probably the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’m not even exaggerating. Playful blue eyes, angular features with a strong jaw covered in stubble, I can see tattoos peeking out from his white T-shirt. I can also see a muscled arm that I imagine wrapped around me. Yeah, maybe I will start hanging around here more often. Like, every day. “Tracker, this is Lana.” Anna introduces us, explaining, “This is one of Rake’s friends.” I’m still getting used to hearing Anna’s brother, Adam, being referred to by his MC name.
I’ve known Adam—I mean, Rake—since I was a young girl. He wasn’t in an MC while he was in high school, but he still caused trouble wherever he went. At heart though, he’s a good guy and cares about his younger sister. “Nice to meet you, Tracker,” I say quietly, glancing shyly at him. He smiles slowly. “Pleasure is all mine.” I have to remind myself to breathe. “So you’re Anna’s partner in crime?” he asks, moving closer. I glance at Anna, then back at him. “No. I’m usually the one trying to keep her out of trouble.” He laughs, rubbing his chest absently. My eyes follow the movement, unable to stop staring at the way his shirt clings to him. “I can see that. Only known her for a while, but I can already see how she starts trouble.” Anna gives him the finger.
Tracker gives me a look that clearly says See what I mean? A small smile forms on my lips. “It’s usually her mouth that gets her in trouble.” “Traitor,” Anna fires back good-naturedly. “Or because she thinks I need protecting.” Tracker studies me. “You are kind of small. Cute. It’s hot.” I duck my head shyly. “Don’t embarrass her,” Anna chastises, then pauses. “And don’t flirt with her. You have a woman, remember?” I’m surprised by my disappointment at hearing he’s taken, but I brush it aside. This is not the kind of guy I can trust, that is clear. His flirty, friendly demeanor is clearly a well-practiced act—it’s probably worked on countless women in the past.
It won’t work on me though. Nope. I try to keep my expression impassive as Tracker studies me for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. As if coming to a conclusion, he nods and moves his gaze away from me. “Just being friendly.” “Well, don’t,” Anna replies. “Come on, Lana, we better get going.” “Okay,” I murmur, following behind her. I can’t help myself. I turn around to look back at him. But he’s not looking at me. He’s staring at the ground, lost in thought. He almost looks confused, his eyebrows drawn together, as though he doesn’t understand whatever is on his mind. I wonder what he’s thinking about. I wonder if he’s thinking about me. Not that it matters. He isn’t available. And I’m probably not his type anyway.
My thought is proven correct when a beautiful woman walks up to him. Hisbeautiful woman, I realize as she puts her hand against his chest with a seductive look on her face. She’s everything I’m not. Tall, slim, and dressed in tight leather pants, a black top showing off her toned flesh and shiny red high heels, she’s the epitome of a biker chick. I look down at my worn jeans, graphic T-shirt, and flip-flops and I keep walking. I may not be oozing hot appeal like that woman, but that’s just not me. Sometimes you have to know who you are, and who you’re not.
LANA ICAN feel his gaze on me, but I pretend to ignore him. Instead, I concentrate on the beautiful little girl in front of me. Clover is the Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club princess. Daughter of the president, Sin, and his kick-hip wife, Faye, Clover is protected by all and loved by many. With jet-black hair, hazel eyes, and the cutest smile, the six-year-old is a force to be reckoned with. And I’m her nanny. And there was Tracker. As much as I wanted to deny it, I was looking forward to seeing more of him, even if only from a distance. Arrow stands, putting Clover down on the couch. “Gotta go, princess.” Clover pouts. “So soon? Why?” “Hey, I’m still here,” Tracker calls out, mock hurt in his tone. Clover turns to Tracker. “I know, Uncle Tracker, but you don’t have candy.”
The two men both laugh, and I join in. “I have to go and meet Anna,” he says, patting her on the head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Arrow’s brown eyes then turn to me. “You okay, Lana?” I nod. “I’m fine.” Why wouldn’t I be? Okay, so I look out of place here. I am out of place here. My black hair is up in a messy bun and I have on my reading glasses, no makeup, jeans, and a loose black tank top. Truth be told, I usually look better than this on a day-to-day basis, but I’m proving to myself that I do not care if Tracker finds me attractive or not. Nope. I do not care. Not one bit. And neither does he. “Call me if you need anything,” Arrow murmurs, eyes darting between Tracker and me before leaving. “I’m here if she needs anything,” I hear Tracker say to him in a hard voice. I’m pretty sure I hear Arrow mutter, “That’s what I’m afraid of,” as he walks out the door.
With Arrow gone, Clover runs to sit next to Tracker, taking his hand in hers. Standing there awkwardly, I shift on my feet, no idea what to do with myself. With no option but to look at him, I let my eyes take him in. Today his shoulder-length blond hair is tied up in a bun, a much nicer bun than the one I am sporting, and it looks hot on him. But then again, he always looks hot. He has a certain appeal to him that I just can’t escape. And I know I’m not the only one. His blue eyes are steady on me, and slightly narrowed. I wish I didn’t find the stubble on his face so attractive, but I do. The man belongs on a magazine cover and is well aware of his charm. He’s also a bad hip, dangerous biker—and the contradiction is extremely appealing.
“Clover,” Tracker says. “Why don’t you go get some coloring books and crayons?” “Can I use one of the new ones you got me?” she asks in excitement. “Uh, yeah!” he says, trying to match her excitement. She whoops, jumping off the couch and rushing away in search of her things. Tracker turns to me. “Sit down, Lana,” he commands quietly. I look around the room before I sit down on the couch opposite him. “Okay.” “I’m not gonna bite,” he says, flashing his sharp white teeth at me in a wolfish grin. I think he does bite. And I want him to bite me. I’m so screwed. “What was that thought?” he asks, amusement written all over his too-handsome-for-his-own-good face. “Nothing,” I say with a casual shrug. I need to stop being so expressive. “Are you going to be here all day?” Maybe I’ll take Clover out somewhere. No point sitting here and being teased with something I’ll never have.
“Yeah,” he replies, tilting his head to the side and studying me. “I live here.” “Right,” I reply, shifting on my seat. “How is school going?” he asks, leaning back on the couch. I’m still getting my business degree. After high school, I’d worked and helped my mom instead of jumping straight into college. Because of this, I’m twenty-five and still in college. I don’t mind though, I’m just happy to be studying something. “I’m on break now,” I say. “Just started.” He nods, eyes widening. “Right. Anna told me that; I forgot.” He flicks his tongue over his bottom lip, and I can’t help but stare at it. “So you’re going to be here every day watching Clover?” I shake my head. “Not every day. Four days a week. While I’m on break anyway.” I honestly don’t know why Faye wants me to look after Clover here.
There are always people going in and out. Anna told me that during the day while Clover is here, the clubhouse is a family environment and everyone is well behaved, but when night falls, all bets are off. It still doesn’t explain why Faye doesn’t have me watch Clover at her own house. It would be safer and quieter, in my opinion, but Faye’s the boss. I worry that maybe she doesn’t fully trust me yet and wants there to be other people around just in case. Visiting the clubhouse did have some perks, obviously. I can stare at Tracker when he isn’t looking, sad as it sounds, and so far I find myself doing it at every opportunity. Anna is also here more often than not, so I’m looking forward to spending more time with her. “That works,” Tracker replies.
I don’t miss the way his gaze lowers to my chest, then lower, over the curve of my thighs. The tension in the room suddenly spikes. I quickly look away and am relieved when Clover comes back into the room, books and case in hand. She sits next to me and shows me all the different coloring books Tracker has bought her. I can feel Tracker’s eyes on me, but I stay focused on her. Or try to, at least. His intense stare lets me know that this means something important. I don’t understand much about his MC lifestyle, except bits and pieces I’ve seen for myself or what Anna has told me. Excitement flutters in my stomach at the thought of my arms wrapped around him, my hair blowing in the wind. But then I think about Allie, and the butterflies exit, my stomach plummeting.
This is always the issue with Tracker. He isn’t single. Even when he says he is, he isn’t. She is always there. Sometimes on the sidelines, sometimes in the forefront, but nevertheless, there. Why does it have to be her? Anyone but her. I am not about to share him, or any man. I want a man who only has eyes for me. A simple enough request, I’d think, but proving hard to find. The fact that I have a hard time trusting men doesn’t help either. I am one of those suffer-in-silence, keep-everything-to-themselves type of people. I hardly ever put myself out there, which is probably why I’m still single. “What about Allie?” I ask, curious as to what his answer will be.