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Zane Pierce. Alias: Jekyll. Criminal association: Killcreek Drifters MC.

She bit her bottom lip, obsessively focused on his mugshot. Shaved head, dark blue eyes, and a beard reaching past his neck. His stare was bitterly harsh. There was no softness in this man. And still… Imogene smiled as the butterflies swarmed her belly and heat shot down between her legs.

“I wonder what he’s doing right now,” she mumbled.

****

“I’m gonna get you the money.” The man heaved, hunched over on all fours with blood dripping from his nose, trying to breathe. “Just need a little more time.”

Is nobody fucking original anymore? Jekyll took the last drag from his cigarette and flicked it across the room. It landed a foot away from the man.

He pushed off the wall, circling the guy. His VP, Cross, had led the meeting with a dealer who’d taken product, sold it to buyers, and hadn’t compensated the Killcreek Drifters MC. That was a problem. Jekyll always found it odd that anyone thought they could get away with ripping off the club and suffer no consequences. Fucking fools. Most associates knew better, but every once in a while, someone came up with a grand scheme to steal from the club. Again, fucking idiots.

“We’re not leaving without our ten grand.” Cross stood a few feet away, folded his arms, and stared down at the guy.

The man held up his hand. “I just need…”

Jekyll had lost his patience an hour ago. He was beyond listening to the whimpering pleas of a grown man who’d tried to steal from the club. He lifted his leg and landed the heel of his boot on the man’s back. A loud thump echoed through the room followed by a muffled wailing.

Jekyll eyed him and shook his head. “Tempted to cover his debt so I can just fucking kill him now.”

Oak laughed. “I’ll throw some cash in. Anything to not have to listen to this pussy whine anymore.”

Cross’s lips twitched, and he bent down but jerked his head back when heavy boots sounded. Cross straightened as Cue and Cypher walked in the room.

“You find anything?” Cross asked.

The two brothers were given orders to flip the entire house. It wasn’t uncommon for money to be hidden. Of course, considering the beating this guy had just endured, he probably would’ve given it up by now.

“Not cash, but—” Cue smirked, lifting his hand, holding a bag of product. From the packaging alone, Jekyll knew it wasn’t theirs. “I’d say this is worth about ten grand.”

“N-no, no.” The man tried to get up, but Jekyll pressed his foot deeper into his back. “That’s not mine.”

Cross snorted. “You’re right. It’s ours now.”

“Fuck.” The man whimpered.

“Get the fuck up.” Jekyll gripped his neck, lifting him, then slamming his limp body against the wall. Somehow the man managed to stay upright. “Gonna give you a few minutes to grab some of your shit. You’re fucking welcome.”

He sniffled the blood from his nose into his throat and then choked on it.

Ah, fuck, that’s gross.

He cleared his throat and wiped his nose, smearing the blood across his face. “Am I leaving my house?”

You dumbfuck.

Jekyll shared a look with Wraith and smiled. “I fucking would if I were you. It’s gonna get hot in here real soon.”

It was a signature mark from Killcreek. They were notorious for it, and in ten minutes, this guy was going to feel it. Jekyll knocked the man into the wall and walked through the room, down the hallway, and to the back of the house.

He walked out the back door, searching for the hose. He found a water spicket on the side of the house. He turned the knob and bent down, scrubbing the blood off his hands. Fighting had always been second nature to him. It was an outlet, and he’d been doing it his whole life. In fact, it was the reason he’d solidified his place among the club. When he was sixteen, him and Hyde had been working for a local dealer. He found out his boss was selling mixed drugs, and Jekyll was taking the brunt of the backlash and loss of sales. Jekyll confronted him, but he had the backing of the Underground and thought he was invincible. When Jekyll set up a meeting, he’d been met with an army.

It did nothing to deter Jekyll from beating the shit out of the dealer. He’d been up against the toughest men. Not all were wins, but he’d never backed down. Surprisingly, no one had stepped in when he’d pulverized the dealer, leaving him only half alive. The next day, he was summoned by Inez, and a few days later, he and Hyde were indoctrinated into the Killcreek Drifters MC. Most new members went through prospecting, but it was the early stages of forming the club. Jekyll and Hyde had their fair share of hazing, but not nearly as bad as what he put new prospects through.

He switched off the knob and straightened, wiping his hands on his jeans.

“We’re out,” Cypher said, walking down the stairs and heading toward him. “You good?”