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He looks at Blade. “You should be proud, son. You made this club what your father and brother never understood. But you start chasing ghosts and God fucking help you.” Turning, he grabs his sunglasses as he slams open the door.

“Reed?” Blade stands. “I know we gave you shit. But this”—he picks up a wad of cash—“this can get us what we need. You’re always welcome.”

Reed looks at all my brothers and nods. “There’s more if you need it.” Ryder whistles as he drops to his seat. Reaching for his laptop he starts organizing the wads of cash. Edge just sits and drinks from the bottle.

Axel is leaning on the table quietly looking through the beige folder. “Reed? Before you go, man… are you sure this is correct?” He lifts up the file, his blue eyes aimed at both of us.

A slither of dread goes down my spine, causing the hair on my arms to stand up.

“That’s straight from the FBI.” Reed nods.

Axel tosses it to Edge. “I was in Afghanistan with Blade. You need to go through this and figure out who’s the rat. Because someone set us up.”

The room is still, almost like the traitor might come in and start gunning us down as we look around at one another.

Here’s the truth. As much as we want to believe it, someone in our family betrayed, sold, or gave away our secrets, then tried to take all the main people out.

“Let me see the goddamn folder,” Blade grits out. “And Ryder, fucking turn up the air.”

He rips the file out of Axel’s hand. Not that I blame him—all this falls on his shoulders.

“Easy, Prez. There’s a lot of shit in here.”

They look at each other and for a moment, I feel like the outsider. I’m still the kid who was always eating lunch alone.

I came back to my club, family, to get revenge and maybe justice. Yet right now, I’m someone who can’t even remember that day straight.

My head pounds as the mental pictures flash through my mind. Mostly, I recall thick, pungent smoke—the kind that burns down your lungs in a second and you know that black soot will never leave.

Sweating, I reach for my charm to calm me. The cool metal makes me breathe and forces my mind to function.

“David? Walk me out, man.”

“Poet, tell Amy to get us some coffee. The pizza should be here any moment,” Blade barks at me as I turn to leave.

Which is a joke unless I happen to run into her. I’m not his bitch.

“You look a little shaken.”

My eyes dart to Reed’s as I stop to rub my neck. It cracks with tension. My insides are turning inside out. It’s revenge, so close I can almost taste it. My arms tingle as adrenaline pumps through my bloodstream.

“What’s in that file?” I ask.

“Everything but the actual rat. There’s a name of a kid whose dad was high up in Satan’s Seeds. I think he drove his bike off a cliff. Anyway, he’s been feeding the FBI information for about six months. He needs money. Start with him.” He heads for the porch stairs.

“How was your honeymoon?” I’m a selfish dick for not even asking until now.

He turns. “Why did you never tell me about Tabatha? With all the shit I unloaded on you, you never once mentioned her.”

If he wanted to gut punch me, I think I would have liked it better. A large lump forms in my throat and I have to swallow a couple of times before I say, “I don’t talk about her.”

His green eyes are serious. “We shared a lot of time and we respected each other’s pasts and pain, but this… I wish you would have said something.”

“I just… I couldn’t forgive myself, and I wasn’t in any condition to do anything about it. So I guess I figured, what’s the point?”

“You figured what’s the point?” he says slowly. “It’s not my place to judge. I’m your best friend, not your parent. Take a long look at that file. Use the money and make everyone suffer. The way I see it, we all need to atone.”

Atone.

I look at Reed; he looks back. “Leave it to you to just get it. I’ll take care of it,” I say. “The rat dies.”

“And if you need me, call. You’re looking a little ready to go off.”

“There’s a lot of shit going on, but I’m fine.”

We stop at his filthy Ferrari. It’s covered in dust from lack of use and all our bikes kicking up dirt.

He looks from me to his half-million-dollar vehicle. “Really?” He shakes his head at me.

The sun is beating down on us. “Christ, man… I’m sorry. I meant to bring it back way earlier. Let me get the keys.”

“I don’t need them.” He touches the door handle and it snaps to life. Reed slides inside.

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