The rumble of motorcycles was the soundtrack to my childhood. The smell of oil, leather, and cigarette smoke clung to my clothes like a second skin. I was born into the life-Brighton Carter, daughter of Samcro's own Benny "Red" Carter. My dad was one of them, a lifer, a soldier in the club. He lived and breathed for the Sons of Anarchy.
And he died for them too.
A drive-by shooting took him when I was just thirteen. I remember the blood, the chaos, the way Jax held me as I screamed, my tiny fists pounding against his cut, demanding answers no one could give. My dad was gone. But Jax? He never left my side.
Jax Teller and Opie Winston were my best friends, my safe place in a world that had already been so cruel. Jax, with his cocky smirk and messy blond hair, had always been the one to pull me out of the darkness, even when he was the cause of it.
At sixteen, that darkness turned to something else-a craving I couldn't deny.
We were drunk, reckless, and stupid. But damn, was it sweet. Jax had been my first everything that night, whispering promises in my ear between lazy kisses, his touch setting my body on fire. But promises meant nothing in Charming. I learned that the hard way.
When I found out I was pregnant, I ran. I packed a bag, left a note, and vanished. I couldn't stay. Not when I knew what this life would do to my kid.
Now, at twenty-three, I was back.
I wasn't that naïve girl anymore.
Ana thought she had left Charming behind for good. Ten years in prison taught her how to survive, how to keep her head down, and how to forget the people who turned their backs on her. But the past has a way of pulling you back, and when she sets foot in Charming again, it doesn't take long to realize she was pushed out.
The club isn't the same. Another Teller sits at the head of the table now, the streets are bloodier than ever, and the ghosts of old sins linger in every shadow. Ana knows better than to get involved-but when someone makes it clear they want her gone for good, staying out of the chaos isn't an option.
When she starts asking the wrong questions and uncovering buried secrets, it puts her right in the line of fire.
The Killer Enforcer of SAMCRO knows he should stay out of it... Should let her handle herself. But the guilt of failing her once is still fresh, and this time? He won't walk away.
Lies. Betrayal. Blood.
Ana didn't come back looking for a war, but someone started one the second she set foot in Charming. Now, the only way out is through.
Some people belong to the club. Some people belong to the streets.
Ana? She belongs to neither.
She's an outcast. And outcasts? They don't go down without a fight.