Page 19

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t. I offered.” She waved her hand toward the door. “So, go and do what you need to do.”

I hesitated. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Emery. I did, one hundred percent, but I wasn’t sure what was going on at the garage. I could be gone an hour or the whole damn night. There was no way of knowing, and I didn’t want to put Emery out.

“You sure about this?” I pushed. “I don’t know how long it’ll take.”

“I know how it works, and I’m good. I just need the key to your place.”

“There is a keypad lock. Code is 6426… Sam knows it, in case you forget.”

“I’ve got it.”

I grabbed some cash from my wallet and laid it on the table before looking over to the kids. “You two behave. I don’t want you causing Emery any trouble.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.

“I’ll be back when I can.”

I didn’t want to leave, but I forced myself to get up and start for the door. And for the first time in a long damn time, it wasn’t my kids who I dreaded leaving. It was her.

I hoped the drive over to the clubhouse would help clear my head, and I could shake these crazy thoughts. Sadly, I’d driven the kids, so I was in the truck. And even with the windows down, I wouldn’t get the kind of wind therapy I’d get with my bike.

It didn’t help matters that fall had already settled in, and the air was growing colder. It wouldn’t be long before it was too cold to ride, and I’d be in the truck every day. None of the brothers were looking forward to that. We were bikers through and through, and the thought of being in a cage all winter filled me with dread.

For tonight, I would have to make do with what I had, so I rolled down the windows and blared the radio, hoping it would be enough to settle the knot in my stomach. I was eager to know what the hell was going on at the garage, so I pressed my foot on the accelerator and sped down the backroads.

When I pulled up to the gate, one of the prospects stepped up and let me through. Seconds later, I was parked in the back and climbing out of the truck.

From the outside, the clubhouse didn’t look like much, just some old industrial building that looked like a gust of wind could knock it to the ground. That was intentional. We didn’t want a place that would draw attention from outsiders, and we’d done a hell of a job.

But the inside was a different story.

We’d spent a lot of time and money making it a place we could be proud of. There was a bar with all the usual amenities, a jukebox in the back corner, pool tables, and a dartboard. There was a kitchen big enough to feed a damn army, a family room, and enough bedrooms that each brother and his family had a place to stay when shit went sideways.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was ours.

And we’d put our lives on the line to protect it and everyone in it.

Once I was inside, I made my way down the hall to Mercy’s office. Without bothering to knock, I stepped inside and found Mercy sitting in front of several computer monitors. “That didn’t take long.”

“What’s going on?”

He turned one of the monitors toward me, revealing the side alley of the garage. The wall was covered in black spray paint. “What the hell?”

“Happened just after dark.”

I leaned in for a better look, and the writing was clear as day.

WE KNOW WHERE YOU ARE

“Who did it?”

“Hard to tell.”

Mercy turned back to his computer screen, and after a few clicks, the footage changed. A figure appeared at the edge of the lot. They were wearing a dark hoodie and a ball cap that was pulled down low, making it difficult to see their face.

The figure jumped the fence, then walked toward the garage. Seconds later, he stepped out of view. “Where’d he go?”