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What now? “Uh, okay.”

“Eraser?” he prompts.

“Right. Nice place. They do brisk business.”

“How much can they really make off a bunch of punks living out their Fast and Furious fantasies?” Steer asks.

I give Rock a sure-this-meeting-was-a-good-idea look.

“Money’s not the point,” Z says. “This is the support club.”

“They’re solid guys,” Rooster says. “Not a bunch of clowns.”

“They sure have a lot of enterprises,” Wrath says.

“No different than us,” I point out. “We got Crystal Ball, Furious, and Rock’s shop for our “legit” income. Downstate’s got their laundry and porn.”

“Gotta love that dichotomy,” Dex says.

“Dial it back with the big words,” Stash says.

“Laundry and porn, sounds like a country love ballad.” Jigsaw snaps his fingers and points at Rooster. “Maybe Shelby can write you a song.” He strums an imaginary guitar while Rooster flips him off.

“Except none of their businesses are legit,” Wrath continues, ignoring the fucking around.

“Our bud farm’s never been legit,” Stash says.

“I think what big and scary is trying to say,” Z jerks his thumb in Wrath’s direction, “Is the balance is off. They got all illegitimate avenues of income.”

“They have no legit ways to funnel their illegal earnings,” Teller adds.

Rock drums his fingers over the table. “We already had that framework set up for us when Ruger ‘retired.’”

Damn, in the ten or twelve years since Ruger’s “untimely” death, that’s the first time I’ve heard Rock come close to joking about the darkest years of our club’s history. That he’s doing it in front of downstate, which Sway formed as a protest when we took over this charter, is pretty damn funny. Too bad Sway’s not here for it.

Z scoffs. “Crystal Ball was a seedy joint barely on the right side of legal back then.”

“Right,” Rock agrees. “But the purpose was the same. To wash the money from the cartel and gun-running.” He nods at Wrath. “Furious gave cover for the underground fighting.”

“And the custom bikes were one-hundred percent passion,” Bricks shouts.

“Right.” Rock chuckles then turns serious. “So, what are their legit goals?”

“Didn’t get that far,” I admit.

“That’s our angle,” Z says. “Fighting, racing, and pussy are great, but eventually, they might want something more.”

“Freedom is fucking expensive,” Teller says.

“They need something that resembles legit income to feed their illegal interests.” Stash grins. “If they want to avoid nine-to-fives like we do.”

“They’re not slackers,” I warn. “Remy and Griff hustle hard.”

“What’s their passion?” Rock asks.

“So new-agey, Prez,” Ravage snarks.

Ignoring Rav’s comment, Rock faces me and raises an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“Family. Griff’s on his own, I think. Remy’s raising his sister.”

“That explains a lot,” Rooster mutters.

“Far as I know, he and Griff have been tight for years.”

Dex nods and sits up. “Vapor knows Griff from Juvie.”

“Eraser?” Rock asks. “What drives him?” He adds a wry twist of his lips to go with the pun.

I go over the few details Heidi was able to extract for me. “His wife, Ella. They want to start a family. Heidi said they’re trying to build a cabin in the woods.”

“Ah, see, they’ll fit right in with our little commune upstate,” Z says.

Rock gives him side-eye but, otherwise, ignores the comment.

“They grew up in foster care or something together,” I add.

“That’s how Vapor and Eraser know each other,” Dex confirms.

“Look who’s shaping up to be a good little support club mentor,” Wrath says.

Dex shrugs. “Got no problem with that.”

“All right.” Rock slaps the table. “Murphy’s going to find out more for us.”

Lucky me.

Z nods at Rooster. “You’re not taking off for a few more weeks, right?”

“Yeah, Prez. I’ll go wherever you need me to.”

“You always have a room with us,” Rock says to Rooster, before turning to Dex. “I need you on this, too.”

“No problem, Prez.”

“Priest and some of the other National officers are planning to attend the wedding.” Rock drops that little bomb without hesitation. “So, I want something substantial to report while he’s here.”

“I’m so offended.” Wrath’s eyes widen in mock indignation. “Priest didn’t get his ass up here for my wedding.”

Rock blows out a breath and rolls his eyes Wrath’s way. “Mine either, brother.”

“This is your fault.” Wrath throws an accusatory look Z’s way.

Z holds up his hands. “We had the decency to elope. Priest came for Sway’s release from the hospital.”

I’m not sure that’s actually how it went down, but Z gives me a devilish grin. “Guess this means Murphy’s special.”

Fucking great.

Twenty-Two

Heidi

The early morning sun practically blinds me as I hurry up the hospital steps.

Technically, I’m not late for my clinical, but I still need to stop at my locker and change into my scrubs.

Outside the locker room, something clamps down hard on my arm, yanking me sideways.

“Bryce? What the hell? Get off me.” I squirm, trying to free myself, but he drags me into an empty lounge, flipping on the lights and slamming the door behind us.

“I need to talk to you.” He finally releases my arm, and I back up a few steps. “Calm the fuck down.”

“Talk doesn’t involve touching.” My arm stings, but I don’t want to rub it or show any weakness in front of him, even though inside, I’m freaking the fuck out.

“We’re running out of time. Did you talk to Dawn yet?”

“About what?”

“Your favorite episode of My Little Pony. Don’t act like a dumb twat. What the fuck do you think?”

The venom in his voice doesn’t shock me as much as it should. He’s clearly unraveling. “Have you lost your mind?”

As if I hadn’t even spoken, he shoves his phone in my face. At first, I’m not sure what I’m looking at. Blurry nighttime photo. Bright spots of overhead parking lot lamps make it hard to decipher the focus of the image.

Then the lines and shadows make sense.

“You sick, creepy stalker!” I grab for his phone, but he yanks it out of my reach. “When did you take that?”

“Followed you one night. You’re so oblivious, you never even noticed me. The others were a surprise bonus for me.”

How the hell did he follow me?

What others?

He smirks at his phone. “I had no idea you were some dirty biker whore.”

Super. In high school kids, called me biker trash. Now I’ve been elevated to biker whore.

Please tell me, universe, why do I keep trying to fit in with a world determined to hate me?

This is the last thing I need with everything else on my plate.

He turns the phone my way again, letting me get a good look at the grainy photo. It’s dark but you can still clearly make out my face. And the fact that I’m bent over Murphy’s bike and it looks like he’s fucking me from behind.

“Oh wait, there’s more.” Bryce practically cackles with glee. “Saint Heidi sucking face—"

“Give me that.” This time, I succeed in snapping the phone out of his hands. It’s worse than I thought. Blake and I kissing. Blake and I at the racetrack kissing—his Lost Kings MC skull and crown patch front and center. There’s even a few of Blake, Rooster, and Dex talking to Eraser. Then back to a dozen or so pictures of me bent over Blake’s bike. Bryce obviously enjoyed that

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