Home > Rhett Redeemed (Knights & Dragons MC #2)

Rhett Redeemed (Knights & Dragons MC #2)
Author: Chantal Fernando




   The last few months of my life have been a complete whirlwind. I feel like I’ve forgotten who I am. Like I’ve been going through the motions of life, but really, deep inside I’m flailing.



   I rest my hands against my flat stomach, my eyes closed and my mind trying to process everything that has happened.

   I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know how every decision I made led me to this moment. But I’m here. And now I’m going to have to face the music.

   Because I’m pregnant.

   And the father?

   My sister’s ex-boyfriend.



Chapter One


   There has to be more to life than this.

   Work and home, home and work—the daily grind and routine has me caught in a rut. I’m alive, but I’m not living.

   There’s nothing like working hard every single day and still only barely getting by to ruin your morale. And for what? Only to go home alone, and then do it all over again the next day.

   “Table six is still waiting,” says my boss, Max, impatience filling his tone as he breaks me out of my pity party.

   “I know,” I reply absently. “I’m on it.” I say that as I continue to wait for the food. There’s not much I can do if the food isn’t ready.

   As I watch Max flit around to nag another waitress, my mind wanders back to when my father was alive. When I was in college and living my best life. Don’t get me wrong, my father was not the best dad. He wasn’t even worthy of an honorable mention. But he did what he could. He paid for college, at least, and tried to make sure I had what I needed to find success in life. I can’t exactly say we had a close bond either, but my mom used to always say, “You only get one father,” and it stuck, especially after she passed away.

   Now that he’s gone, I’m glad we tried. But here I am six months later, a college dropout with a full-time waitressing job to pay the mortgage on his house so I can have a place to live.

   Did I get the shit-end of the stick?


   But when you lose your mom and then your dad, and a house full of memories is all you have left of them, you hold on to that. Even if the memories aren’t always the best ones.

   So now I’m here wondering what the hell I’m doing with my life. I haven’t always made the best decisions, and at some point, I need to find a better path. Basically, I need to stop being a hot mess.

   Yes, I’m kind of alone in the world, but this is my life.

   And it’s up to me to make some changes to make it better.

   I have to be the hero I need right now instead of sitting around waiting for him to stroll in.

   Because he isn’t coming.

   The food for table six finally arrives and I carry it out, a plate in each hand, and place it down on the table. “Sorry for the wait—here is your steak and seafood chowder.”

   I pick up the table number as the two gentlemen thank me, and then head over to wait on two men who have just walked in and sat at table eight. They’re both bikers, going by their leather cuts—we get quite a few of them in here.

   I pull out my notebook and glance between the two of them. They are both good-looking, and give off vibes that they know it, but the blond man instantly catches my eye, his blue eyes scanning the menu and then looking up at me. He exudes power, and recklessness, and apparently I’m drawn to that. Who knew? I normally go for the average Joe—decent looking, decent job. I find that if you don’t set my expectations too high, I’m less likely to be disappointed.

   But this one definitely catches my eye.

   “I’ll have a black coffee. And the ribs, please,” Blond Guy says, placing the menu down and leaning back in the booth. I don’t miss the slow perusal he gives me, checking me out from head to toe, but I pretend that I do. Being a waitress, I get hit on all of the time, and I certainly have found that ignoring it is the best way to handle it. If you flirt, you can get more tips, but I tried that and it’s just not for me. I just try to be polite and work hard, and hope that’s enough. We already have to wear tight tops to work, as requested by Max, and even though we just work in the restaurant, we get treated the same as the women who strip at Toxic next door.

   Some men just seem to think we are free game.

   “Dice?” Blond Guy prompts his friend, a red-haired man.

   “Ummm. I’ll have the nachos and a beer.”

   “No problem,” I reply, picking up the menus and heading back to the kitchen. I slide the order slip to the chefs at the back and get the coffee and beer.

   “Damn, want to swap tables?” Jamie asks me, checking out the bikers. Jamie has been working here longer than me, and was the one to show me the ropes when I first started. She’s a fun, bubbly blonde and is always the one who gets the most tips. She’s stunning, with an infectious personality, so I can see why.

   “If you want,” I reply with a shrug. We get good-looking men coming in here all the time; it’s all the same to me. Although something about the blond intrigues me, which means I should probably stay away.

   She playfully nudges me. “You all right? How did it go seeing your sister the other day?”

   I perk up at the mention of Cara, my half sister who I recently met for the first time. “It was good. We went out for dinner and a movie. It’s been great getting to know her.”

   In reality, it’s been an emotional roller coaster.

   While going through my father’s stuff after his death, I found out about Cara. Dad pretty much had no involvement in Cara’s life, which is probably why I never heard of her, but I was angry at him for not telling me I had an older sister. I’ve always felt so alone, and to know I have a sister out there excited me. After I hired a PI to find her, she and I met and the rest is history.

   Cara is everything I’m not. She’s educated, classy and extremely put together. She’s assertive, and strong, yet also sweet and kind.

   And she’s happy.

   Me? I’m all over the place. I don’t have a career, I’m a little rough around the edges and I didn’t have two loving parents like she did. I pretty much raised myself, while Cara grew up in a loving, supportive home.

   We aren’t the same.

   But despite what anyone thinks, I have nothing but genuine love for Cara. I’m not envious of her; I want her to have all of that and more. Having her in my life has given me a connection that my existence has been lacking. She’s a special person, and I can see why she has so many people that adore her.

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