Dirk (Book 1): Shattered Hearts MC, #1

By LENA PIERCE

This is book 1 of the Shattered Hearts MC romance series! Books 2 and 3 are available everywhere now!

Dirk Dvorak takes what he wants.

He came to keep me safe.

He won't rest until he's claimed me for himself.

But betrayal on all sides leaves us with only each other.

Can I trust the man who's sworn to break me?

MEGHAN

I got away from the biker life a long time ago.

Since then, I've put as much distance as possible between myself and my brother's club, the Shattered Hearts MC.

I built a new life.

Away from the hatred.

Away from the violence.

But then my brother gets in touch and tells me I'm in danger.

Now, whether I like it or not, he's pulling me back into the world of the Hearts to "protect" me.

The man he sends to collect me is everything I ran away from.

Dirk Dvorak is dangerous, deadly, and drop-dead gorgeous.

And if I'm not careful, he's going to break my heart.

DIRK

One rule in the biker world:

Do what your president says.

But when the job turns out to be collecting his baby sister and keeping her out of trouble, the stakes are that much higher.

I'm supposed to keep my hands to myself.

But that's impossible.

Because Meghan is sassy, fierce, and too tempting.

I've kept my distance until now, but I won't last much longer.

The problem is, it's never as simple as making her mine.

This started as a straightforward bodyguard gig.

But then the killers came for us.

And now it's a whole new ballgame.

There's blood to be shed.

A woman to be protected.

And maybe, at the end of all this…

A new life with her, there for the taking.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MBK Hanson Inc.
• Release date: Nov 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393507352

Book preview

Dirk: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Shattered Hearts MC) (Book 1)

By Lena Pierce

Dirk Dvorak takes what he wants.

HE CAME TO KEEP ME safe.

He won’t rest until he’s claimed me for himself.

But betrayal on all sides leaves us with only each other.

Can I trust the man who’s sworn to break me?

MEGHAN

I got away from the biker life a long time ago.

Since then, I’ve put as much distance as possible between myself and my brother’s club, the Shattered Hearts MC.

I built a new life.

Away from the hatred.

Away from the violence.

But then my brother gets in touch and tells me I’m in danger.

Now, whether I like it or not, he’s pulling me back into the world of the Hearts to protect me.

The man he sends to collect me is everything I ran away from.

Dirk Dvorak is dangerous, deadly, and drop-dead gorgeous.

And if I’m not careful, he’s going to break my heart.

DIRK

One rule in the biker world:

Do what your president says.

But when the job turns out to be collecting his baby sister and keeping her out of trouble, the stakes are that much higher.

I’m supposed to keep my hands to myself.

But that’s f**king impossible.

Because Meghan is sassy, fierce, and too d*mn tempting.

I’ve kept my distance until now, but I won’t last much longer.

The problem is, it’s never as simple as making her mine.

This started as a straightforward bodyguard gig.

But then the killers came for us.

And now it’s a whole new ballgame.

There’s blood to be shed.

A woman to be protected.

And maybe, at the end of all this...

A new life with her, there for the taking.

Chapter One

Meghan

Y ou are the Big Bosses’ protector, Sissy says, and if there have ever been stranger words coming from their source, I have not heard them. Sissy is short and red-headed and freckled, and yet her fantasy-villain voice is as deep as the rumble of a volcano. She stands on my couch and spreads her arms. You are the Ambassador of Criminality. She puffs her chest out and flicks her tongue. You are a Mistress of the MCs!

I roll my eyes and pour myself a glass of wine. Whatever you say. I take a long, slow sip. It’s been a long, slow day, after all: manning the store, dealing with the criminal clientele, navigating the detritus of a neighborhood torn between the Broken Sinners and Shattered Hearts. And it’s not even over yet.

You are, though. Sissy slides to the couch and picks up her own glass of wine. She wipes sweat from her face with the back of her hand. She looks like a child as she does it, a large, clumsy movement. Don’t sit there and give me a whole can of baloney, ma’am. She tips her head sarcastically. I know what you are, and you know what you are. A Master of the Dark Arts.

I am a store owner, I mutter.

Hmm. Sissy shakes her head slowly. Sure, that’s the truth, but is it the whole truth?

I note that her glass is already near-empty, and she drained the last one just as quickly. Sissy is too small for two glasses of wine to have no effect. She finishes this one and then claws for the neck of the bottle, almost falling as she goes on: Because I work with you, ma’am, and even an old part-timer like me can see what you’re doing. It’s a dangerous game, missy-bossy, a dangerous game indeed.

You are the oddest person I know, Sissy. I sip my wine and close my eyes and try and let the day wash away from me. It’s like a layer of clothing sticking to my body.

Maybe I am. I hear her shrug; that’s how impressively loud she is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can see into your soul, Meghan. You are my friend. I am worried about you. The last sentence is incongruously genuine, dropped at the end of a bunch of nonsense.

I open my eyes. You don’t need to worry about me, I say. I can take care of myself.

Sure, you can ... until you can’t.

What do you expect me to do? I ask, sipping my wine more quickly. The day won’t leave me; it surrounds me, stays there. Just up and leave?

No, but—I don’t know, Meghan—find someone to protect you, to protect this place! She points at the floor, since my apartment is above the store. You have bikers coming round here every single day. You’re really telling me you can’t—

Don’t even say it! I interrupt. I finish my wine and go for the bottle, but Sissy has drunk it dry. I go into the kitchen, talking over my shoulder. I would rather bring a bunch of pigs in here and let them have a go at me, Sissy, I really would. I’d turn my apartment into a sty before I let some violent, psychopathic biker in here.

And by here you mean ... She raises her eyebrow.

My apartment! I hiss, taking a beer from the fridge.

What are you thinking, Meghan? Sissy asks after a silence.

About how far this place has come, I whisper, feeling I can be honest since I’m tipsy and she’s past tipsy. I mean, I always knew I’d try to make it into a viable business, you know? That’s why I went to college: to do something productive in this community for once. I didn’t want people to hurry by this neighborhood on their way to Hollywood because it looked too dangerous. Or, if I couldn’t do that—people still hurry now, I see them every day—at least I could make it a little bit better for the people already living here.

I think you have, Sissy assures me. Giving the Broken Sinners and the Shattered Hearts somewhere to meet is a good thing. I was only joking about you being the ambassador and all that stuff, Meghan.

I know. I smile at her. Don’t worry about it.

She