Kiss of Death MC, Book 12
A Bones MC Romance
Date Published: March 20, 2026
Publisher: Changeling Press
Knight -- I just found out I have a daughter. Brynn. Walking back into Lavender’s world forces me to face the woman I never stopped loving and the child I failed before I ever knew her. The system doesn’t care that I’ve changed, and powerful men are willing to sacrifice Brynn’s future for their own gain. I will not let that happen. I will give my little girl my kidney without hesitation, and I will fight anyone who stands in our way. Redemption is not guaranteed, but this time I’m staying.
Lavender -- For eleven years, it was just the two of us, me and my daughter. Now she needs a kidney transplant, and I’m forced to find the man who walked out on us. Rhys is no longer the man I loved. He’s harder, dangerous, and bound to a motorcycle club I don’t trust. I won’t forgive him, and I don’t want to need him. But when becomes collateral damage, Rhys proves he won’t walk away again. Letting him back into our lives could cost me everything, but losing him after this would cost even more.
Knight
A month ago, I had my life figured out. The people in Kiss of Death MC had become my brothers and sisters. They’d all had my back, in prison and out. The club represented the entirety of my loyalty. My life.
A month ago.
I’d been staring at this Goddamned email since I’d found it. I’d opened it. Read it. Then promptly vomited. I’d told Ada and she’d been excited, but the longer I thought about it, the more dread settled in the pit of my stomach.
As with most nights since I’d gotten the email, I sat staring at the screen. Just… reading the words over and over and trying to make sense of them. My eyes burned from the blue glow of the screen.
The hit came back as “close relative/first cousin.” Given the DNA Ada sent in was hers, I had very little doubt this child was my daughter.
Brynn Leahy. Brynn. The name Lavender and I had picked out right after her senior year of high school. Then later. The night I’d gotten arrested. She’d asked me about the name Brynn for a baby’s name. Looking back, after Ada had voiced her suspicions, Lavender might have been going to tell me then. We’d been interrupted by the feds, of course. Because I’d gotten greedy and stupid. Lavender had even given the child my last name instead of hers. I knew Lavender. We’d spent a good deal of our lives together. Practically grown up together, though I was six years older than she was.
She’d had a hopeless crush on me my junior year of high school. She’d been in the fifth grade. Even though I’d started out being amused by her, she’d quickly grown on me. I’d thought of her as an adored little sister. Right up until I’d come back from college after getting my masters in economics -- just in time for her to ask me to her senior prom.
I never even contemplated telling her no. Never occurred to me. Just got the day and time she wanted me to pick her up, rented a tux, bought her flowers, and showed up in a limo. No way she was getting anything but the best.
I’d swaggered to her door. I hadn’t been heavily muscled or anything, but I knew I was good looking. I also knew that bringing an older date to her prom would make her friends envious. Then she’d opened the fucking door…
And I literally fell to my knees on her front porch. I’d begged her to marry me on the spot. She’d thought I was playing a bit, being dramatic to make her smile. What she didn’t find out for two solid years was I’d been totally serious. We’d kept in touch while I’d been away at school, but I’d never seen her in anything other than jeans and a T-shirt. The slinky formal dress she’d donned had me wanting to keep her covered and at the same time show her off so everyone knew the goddess in the room belonged to me.
Memories sliced through my brain painfully. Lavender had been the one person in the world I wanted to protect with everything I had. Still did. Apparently, I’d fucked up twice. First when I decided I could make enough money to set us up for life sooner rather than later and got caught. Then when I’d basically told her to get lost and that I never wanted to see her again. And I wasn’t nice about it.
“Fuck,” I whispered to the empty room. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I pushed back from the desk, the chair legs scraping against concrete. Cold sweat broke out across my forehead and ran down my spine. Brynn. Brynn existed. Brynn lived and breathed in this world. Brynn. My daughter.
The word felt foreign, impossible.
Outside, the compound hummed with night activity. Music thumped dully from the clubhouse. Engines roared as brothers returned from whatever jobs had kept them out past midnight. Normal sounds. My life since I’d gotten out of prison.
I dragged my hands down my face, feeling the rough scratch of stubble. How old would Brynn be now? Eleven? Christ. A whole person, a part of Lavender and me. And I’d missed every Goddamned second of her growing up. I’d basically left Lavender to fend for herself. She’d been a foster kid and on her own the second she’d turned eighteen. I hadn’t wanted her to have the life she’d already lost out on. I wanted her to have a better life. That didn’t include an ex-con for a husband. But I’d panicked. I hadn’t wanted any blowback to hit Lavender. Looking back, I could see how big a fucking coward I’d been.
I moved to the tiny window overlooking the compound. These men trusted me with their lives. Just like I trusted them. I’d carved a new life out for myself here. Become someone completely different. Lavender would never recognize me and I seriously doubt she’d like the man I’d become.
I returned to my desk, staring at the e-mail. The DNA service offered a messaging system. Assuming Brynn was Lavender’s Brynn and not some other random Brynn Leahy meant Lavender would have been the one to send in the sample. There could be no other reason for her to put our child’s DNA out there than for me to find her. Lavender knew the old me better than anyone. She’d have made things as easy for me as she could have if she’d wanted me to find her and our daughter.
Like I did every night, I hovered over the email button for a long while. What the fuck could I possibly say? “Sorry I didn’t know you existed?” “Sorry I pushed your mom away?” “Sorry I’m a felon who rides with an outlaw MC and has nothing to offer a kid?” Somehow, I doubted any of that would be adequate enough.
I wanted to close the email like I had every day since I’d received it. Instead, I sighed and hit the message button through the service to reach out to Lavender. Whatever she wanted, whatever had prompted this search, I needed to know. Even if it destroyed the life I’d built.
But, Goddamnit. No one in my life -- no matter how much they meant to me -- was more important than Lavender. And Brynn. Even if I hadn’t known she existed.
I spent the next three hours trying to write a Goddamn email. Me, Knight, resident finance genius and master hacker, sat paralyzed by a blinking cursor. My first attempt read like a police report. Second one turned into a fucking apology letter. Third one just said “What do you want from me?” but nothing felt right.
“Fuck this,” I muttered, shoving away from the desk. My chair hit the wall with a dull thud. I grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniel’s from the counter, bypassed a glass, and took a burning swallow straight from the neck. The whiskey did nothing to ease the tightness in my chest or quiet the circus in my head.
I took another pull from the bottle and set it down hard on the desk. The few personal items I kept shifted from the impact. A photo frame wobbled and nearly fell. The only picture I had from before. Me at eighteen, arms wrapped around Lavender from behind, both of us laughing at something forgotten. I kept it to remind myself of everything I’d lost through my own stupidity.
I didn’t straighten it. Instead, I started typing, addressing Lavender directly even though the account had Brynn’s name.
Lavender. Why are you looking for me?
I hovered the mouse over the send button. This message opened a door I’d spent a decade making sure stayed locked. Once I clicked, there’d be no going back. Whatever Lavender wanted, whatever had driven her to find me, I’d have to face it. I’d have to face her.
The compound below had quieted, most brothers either passed out or gone home to their Old Ladies. In the new silence, the click of my mouse seemed unnaturally loud as I hit send.
I leaned back in my chair, a strange calm settling over me. The waiting would be the hardest part. Whatever came next, I’d deal with it the same way I dealt with everything -- head-on, no bullshit, no apologies.
If Lavender needed something from me, she’d have to take me as I am now. Not the Rhys she remembered, but Knight. The harder, colder, more dangerous boy she’d once loved.
I turned off my monitors, plunging the room into darkness. Tomorrow would bring whatever it brought.
And for the first time in eleven years, that included a daughter I never knew I had.
About the Author
Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.
Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts (which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with Marteeka's latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her website. Don't forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you with a potpourri of Teeka's beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.
Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland
Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress
Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15
