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“What’s going on?” Oktober looked from me to Brielle and back.

“Not sure,” I muttered. “But someone just photographed me and the woman whose testimony put me in prison. I doubt my parole officer would be impressed to find out we’d had contact of any sort.” I scowled, stepping backward so fast Inferno had to stop me from knocking him down.

“Easy, man,” he said softly. “What’s going on?”

I pointed at Brielle. “If you’re trying to get me tangled up in something to get my parole revoked, you can just take your sweet ass back to wherever the fuck you came from.”

Gravel sprayed from the rear tires as the sedan hurried out of the area and faded as the car swung onto the main road and disappeared toward Nashville. Still, that itch between my shoulders became more insistent and bothersome. Something wasn’t right at all.

“Who was in the gray car, Brielle?”

Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “I… what?”

“The car that just stopped and took our picture. Who was following us?”

She shook her head, a helpless expression on her face as she looked at Oktober and Inferno, then glanced around the area. She turned her head to look down the road opposite where the car had been. Could the woman be that clueless of her surroundings?

Fuck. “So fucking stupid,” I muttered. I didn’t know if I meant Brielle, or me. Because I was about to do something so incredibly stupid as to not even be believed.

I tucked the envelope inside my coat. “Get in your car, Brielle.”

Brielle didn’t move. “OK. I’ll leave.”

“No,” I snapped. “Follow me to the compound. Follow me and don’t stop for anything.” I moved back to my bike and climbed on.

“Everything OK?” Oktober followed me, Inferno hanging back to watch over Brielle.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’m taking her to the compound. I’ll let Knuckles and Knight sort this out.”

“Sort what out?”

I met his gaze. “I’m pretty sure trouble just came crawling to our doorstep.”

Oktober nodded at the little Fusion as Brielle climbed back inside. “Someone was interested in whatever she brought me.” I indicated the envelope. “It might be nothing, but if she’s not actually working to wrap me up in some kind of trap, then she could be in some serious danger.”

Inferno instructed Brielle which way to go once she passed through the gate. As I watched, her eyes grew round and wide. Her already pale face seemed to lose even more color as fear settled into her expression. She looked almost haunted, like she knew it was only a matter of time before the bad guys caught up to her.

She pulled up beside me, just inside the gate. “What’s going on?”

I gave her a hard look, hoping I got through to her because, while I might be angry with her, none of what happened back then had been her fault. And even if it was, I knew the kind of man Grant Sutton was. Brielle had been little more than a teenager when it had all gone down. He’d likely blackmailed her or threatened her. Still, I couldn’t help my harsh tone. “Does Sutton know you’re here?”

“What?” Her eyes widened and she started trembling even more. “Why would he know I’m here?”

“I don’t know what your game is, but I’d bet my ass Sutton has had you followed. He now knows you’re not playing by his rules anymore. Whatever protection you thought you had just evaporated. Follow me and don’t stop until I do.”

I rolled toward the compound, my brothers at my back. I knew one of them would have contacted Knuckles. Both of them probably called their old ladies because neither man would want the woman following me to be thrown to the wolves without some backup. Whether she deserved that backup remained to be seen. Either way, I’d get to the bottom of this. And I really hoped Brielle Sloan was on the up and up.

Chapter Two

Brielle

The meeting room inside the compound smelled like stale coffee. A thumb drive I’d brought to Dane sat on the table. Dane sat across from me, arms crossed, watching me intently.

At the far end of the table sat a broad-shouldered man with a beard gone mostly gray and a stillness that reminded me, uncomfortably, of Dane’s. Beside him, a woman with dark hair and a steady, assessing gaze that missed nothing, her hand resting near his forearm without quite touching it. Another man with what looked like nearly every inch of his skin -- including his eyes -- tattooed.

“I’m Knuckles,” the bearded man said. He turned his head to indicate the woman beside him. “This is Hannah, my old lady. That’s Knight. He’s our tech guy and he’s here to help sift through whatever’s on your drive.” He nodded at the tattooed man. “We’re gonna keep this simple. We have three questions: what’s on the drive. Whether you’re a problem. What Dane wants done about you.” His eyes cut to Dane and held there half a beat too long, the kind of look that meant a conversation had already happened between them somewhere I hadn’t been invited. “We’ll start with the first one.”

“Knuckles,” Hannah placed a hand on her man’s arm. “I get there are issues and situations here, but until we know what’s going on, be nice.” Hannah addressed me. “Knuckles is very protective of the men in his club. Most of them have done time in prison, and he does everything he can to keep everyone from going back.” She glanced at Knuckles with a wry grin. “And they can each be a bit of a caveman at times.” For some reason, I found her warm smile reassuring when I didn’t know this woman from Adam. “Tell us what you have and let us figure out what to do next.”