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“I don’t kill women. But I am going to have Arty look into her. See if she’s connected to anything he’s already looking into. If not, she might be getting a phone call. Or a visit. I’m gonna get answers. It’s the only way this ends.”

He was right.

Even if I hated it.

Even if some part of me was still trying to cling to the idea that Amanda was a good person, that she would never betray us like this.

Because she was all I had for so long.

But, I reminded myself, that was no longer the case.

I had York now.

I had Eddie and Harmon and Saskia and everyone else in the club. People who accepted me and agreed to protect me, no questions asked. People who would never, ever sell us out. Not for money; they had more than enough. And not out of fear; they had nothing to be afraid of.

“Her name is Amanda Jane Landon.”

“Alright,” he said, climbing off the bed. “You stay here and wait for Denali. I have some work to do.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

York

“Yeah, I heard you,” Arty said as I stress-cleaned his apartment. It wasn’t as bad as it typically was, but we’d been using him more than usual lately, so I figured everyone straightened up when they visited.

“But I’m not hearing anything about the shrink because…”

I was being impatient.

But, fuck, I’d heard Runa call out for me on that phone, heard her scream when she was being attacked, seen her right after that attack, been there as she cried, and seen the way she jumped at every odd noise at the clubhouse in the days that followed.

This had to end.

I needed to know who the shrink was in contact with. I needed names. I needed addresses. Then I needed bodies in the back of a U-Haul. Then in the mouths of crocodiles deep in the Everglades.

After that, well, I had some ideas for future plans.

One of them being a nice little house with a yard for Denali. A jungle gym. A cat and a dog. A place to put down roots. Christmases in the same place every year. A table to gather around on Thanksgiving. Friends. Family.

Because, yeah, that was where my mind was going.

Not just Runa and Denali in that house, with me popping over as an outsider.

I wanted to be there.

I wanted to put Denali to bed every night. Then I wanted to sit on the back porch with Runa and a cup of coffee, talking about our day, making plans for the future.

I wanted to take the vacations Runa’s soul was craving, exposing Denali to the amazing things the world had to offer.

I wanted Runa beside, under, and on top of me in bed every night.

I wanted the three of us at a breakfast table every morning.

Being around them had switched something on inside me. Everything suddenly made sense. Things had more meaning.

I knew Runa had some resistance. I didn’t know if that was circumstantial or personal. Did she simply not want to get attached because she was worried she would have to leave? Or was her objection to me, to my lifestyle, my job?

It clearly wasn’t due to a lack of attraction. There was something fucking electric about being with her, being inside her. Something I hadn’t ever felt with anyone else before.