Garrett (Book 1): Pitch Veins MC, #1

By Heather West

This is book 1 of the Pitch Veins MC series! Books 2 and 3 are available everywhere now!

One forbidden night. One unexpected baby.

OLIVIA

I'm a good girl at heart.

At least, that's what I tell myself.

But deep down, I always want what's bad for me.

Like Garrett.

He's a single father twice my age.

But I wanted him, and I found myself doing whatever it took to get him.

The night he finally takes me is everything I dreamed of.

But afterwards…

My nightmare begins.

Now, I'm pregnant with the biker's baby.

And caught in the middle of a vicious outlaw war.

Garrett says we can't be together.

Says he's too corrupted to be near me.

I'm left wondering…

Did I fall for a man too broken to love me back?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sopris Page Press
• Release date: Sep 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393753223

Book preview

Garrett: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Pitch Veins MC) (Book 1)

By Heather West

One forbidden night. One unexpected baby.

OLIVIA

I’m a good girl at heart.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

But deep down, I always want what’s bad for me.

Like Garrett.

He’s a single father twice my age.

But I wanted him, and I found myself doing whatever it took to get him.

The night he finally takes me is everything I dreamed of.

But afterwards...

My nightmare begins.

Now, I’m pregnant with the biker’s baby.

And caught in the middle of a vicious outlaw war.

Garrett says we can’t be together.

Says he’s too corrupted to be near me.

I’m left wondering...

Did I fall for a man too broken to love me back?

Chapter One

Olivia

"W here is everybody?" Frankie’s sighing voice sounds cavernous in the empty hair salon. Despite the fact that it’s summer and it’s hotter than hell outside, the people of Dover, New Jersey, apparently don’t need their hair cut.

Relax, Francine, Martina snaps good-naturedly but curtly. It’s only your second week on the job. Anybody comes in here, I’ve got dibs.

Besides, I add, trying to be as positive as possible, It’s only one. People are bound to come in this afternoon. I mean, most people don’t get their hair done in the morning, do they?

You know better than that, Martina quips. For Christ’s sake, I taught you better than that.

It’s true. Martina Keary has been as much a mentor as a friend as long as I’ve been working at the salon. I was just nineteen when I first came to the joint, having been caught with some weed by my parents, who subsequently kicked me to the curb. I can remember it like it was yesterday—

I’m not having any druggies under my roof, my too-conservative father yelled at me.

It’s funny ... when I told them I was just holding it for a friend, I wasn’t completely lying. It was a friend’s, and I’d only smoked a few times in my life. Ever since then, I hadn’t even gone near the stuff, let alone any other drugs. But having an eighth was apparently enough for my parents, who never really wanted me there after I turned eighteen anyway.

So I was out on the street, living out of the rusted-out car I’d bought with my own money, when I came into the salon looking for a job as a receptionist. Martina not only took pity on me and hired me on the spot; she ended up teaching me the tricks of the trade, showing me how to cut hair, give a perm, do the latest styles—all the good stuff.

That all happened about two years ago. Now I’m twenty-one, and I’m just barely managing to scrape by. The job is a good one, and I love Martina, but days like this make me worry. We only make money when clients come in, and when there are no clients, there’s no money to be had. Usually, the place has a lot more action going on, but today is a particularly slow one, especially for having all three of us on the floor.

Ah yes, the third of our group. Her name is Francine Alvarez, but everybody except Martina calls her Frankie. She was just hired a couple of weeks ago, and she seems ... nice? I guess nice might even be too strong a word. I haven’t really been able to get a read on her just yet. Whenever I’ve tried to have a conversation with her, she’s been rather quiet and withdrawn—the exact opposite of Martina, who is about the most outgoing person you can possibly imagine. The clients love her for her sharp tongue and general good nature. I somehow don’t think Frankie is going to be the reason anybody comes in.

So, Martina says from behind me, surprising me and snapping me out of my train of thought, Have you given any more thought to what we talked about the other day?

What did we talk about the other day? I ask, giving her a wry grin. We talk about a lot of stuff on a daily basis.

Come on, Miss Gage, she says. I hate it when she calls me that, and she knows it—which is why she does it. Don’t you understand? All I want is the best for you. You know that, right?

Oh, of course I know that, Martina, I say. I almost want to hug her. But I’m happy where I am right now.

This is the life you want? she asks, waving her hand dramatically at the empty salon.

Okay, okay, I say, still smiling. Maybe it’s not ideal, but ... well, this is home. I don’t know what I’d do anywhere else.

Are you kidding me, Olivia? she asks rhetorically. "You know damned well that you’d do great wherever. I know that too. But you’re never going to grow and develop if you