Arrow's Hell

Fuck.

“I hope you’re happy, Mary, wherever you are,” I whisper, then turn away.

I step away from the stone and look at her.

My A

The love of my life. If I believed in all that shit, I’d say she was my soul mate.

Here she stands with tears in her eyes, crying for a woman from my past.

There’s no jealousy in her eyes, no hurt.

Only understanding.

How the fuck did I get so lucky?

Me, a fuckin’ si

A tainted man.

A guilty man.

How was I given such an angel?

A beauty, a fuckin’ scientist.

The sweetest woman who ever lived.

I take her into my arms and kiss the top of her head.

I guess God really does believe in forgiveness.

Acknowledgments

THIS book was written during a hard time in my life, and I think it’s turned out to be one of my favorites. I hope it will be for you, too.

First of all, I’d like to thank my agent, Kimberly Brower, for being amazing and going above and beyond. I’m so thankful to have you!

Abby Zidle and Gallery Books, you have been so wonderful to work with, thank you for everything!

My sister, Tenielle, as always, for helping me with anything I need. Words can’t express how much I love you. You keep me grounded, you keep me sane.

My beta readers for always making time for me, and for the encouragement they give! I appreciate each and every one of you more than you know.

Thank you to Rose, Nina, Lisa, and all the other bloggers who support me on a daily basis. Love you lots!

The biggest thank-you goes to my readers. I’ve received so many messages and comments from people who adore this series, and I really hope you love Arrow as much as I do.

When you want something, you have to take it. You have to fight for it. And Tracker is more than worth the fight.

Will Lana be able to get through Tracker’s tough exterior to the good man she knows is inside? Find out in the third book in this sexy series from bestselling author Chantal Fernando!

TRACKER’S END

Coming summer 2015 from Gallery Books

LANA

ANNA, who is this?” a blond god calls out.

I step closer to my best friend. When A

Yeah, maybe I will start hanging around here more often.

Like, every day.

“Tracker, this is Lana.” A

I’m still getting used to calling A

“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 A

I glance at A

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.”

A

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,” A

“Or because she thinks I need protecting.”

Tracker studies me. “You are kind of small and cute. It’s hot.”

I duck my head shyly.

“Don’t embarrass her,” A

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, clearly. His flirty, friendly demeanor is definitely 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,” A

“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.

His beautiful 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 sex appeal like that woman, but that’s just not me. Sometimes you have to know who you are and who you’re not.

ONE YEAR LATER

TRACKER

I SEE her.

As usual, she’s standing a little behind A

I’m still not good for her.

But wanting her—that has stayed constant since the moment I met her.

She’s dressed in a blue top that hugs her petite frame and jeans that cup her juicy ass. That ass could bring a man to his knees. Feeling myself harden, I shift uncomfortably and force myself to remove my gaze from her. I scan the room, my gaze landing on Allie.

Fuck.

The situation between me and Allie is a huge clusterfuck. A whole fuckin’ mess that I went along with because it was easy. She was here; she wanted me. She knew the lifestyle. Easy.

Allie is the daughter of a fallen member of the Wind Dragons Motorcycle Club. Because of this, we let her stay in our clubhouse, and we look after her. She’s hooked up with a few of the other members, I know, but when her claws landed on me, the bitch dug deep. She wanted to be my old lady, and I let her play the part for a while without giving her the official title. Looking back, I know I didn’t treat her how I would treat my old lady, how I would treat Lana if she was mine. The feelings just weren’t there—and they still aren’t. I was looking for something in Allie that I didn’t find, but I held on anyway. I led her on more than I meant to. Staying with her was me being a selfish fuck, because I should have let her go when our relationship first started going south. Which was right after it fuckin’ began. I have the feeling she knows it won’t work, but is hopeful anyway. Whatever it is, it’s a fucked up situation that needs to be over with.