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“Charlie, I’m not making demands, man. You’re drunk.”

“Yeah, fuck you! Don’t ever pull this shit again, copper. You won’t like my response, I promise.”

“I’m just asking you to do what’s right, Charlie. The same way you’d expect me to do what’s right if the law comes sniffing around the MC.”

His gray eyes flashed at my words. “Yeah? You wanna go there little brother? Don’t forget that for as many of my secrets you think you know, I know yours, too. The hacks. The beatdowns. The shootings. All of it.”

“Gossip,” I shot back, but I wasn’t entirely sure that omitting that shit from my application wasn’t a lie.

“You wanna risk it all?”

I didn’t, but I also wasn’t ready to back down. I stood a little taller, using my height advantage to stare him down.

Madison jumped between us, one hand on each of our chests and pushed with all her might, which wasn’t much. She tuned me out and turned to Charlie.

“I just want to find my sister. I’m not after revenge or any of that shit, just Molly. Whatever Savannah knows, I promise to only use it to find Molly. I swear. Please.”

Charlie was unmoved. He was a wall of uncaring ice as he stared at her, silent and menacing. Utterly fucking silent. I wondered what had happened to him. Why was he so angry?

Maddie stepped around me. She barked, “Fine. Whatever,” and headed for the door. “Fuck you very much too!” With those parting words, she marched out of the clubhouse, and I found her fuming beside the car.

I walked up to her, stared up at the stars for an explanation. Then just spit out the truth. “Sorry. That didn’t go as well as I thought it would. I expected more from Charlie, and that was my mistake. Drunk fucker.”

“Not your fault.” Her lips lifted into a smile. “I didn’t expect him to help, but I can tell you really want to. Thank you, Jamie.”

Relief swept over me like a warm breeze on a spring night. “Yeah, you’re welcome, Madds. Feel like some ice cream?”

She smiled as her shoulders relaxed. “I could go for a frozen Bailey’s.”

“Let’s go.” I’d find another way to help her find her sister. I had to.

Chapter Nine

Madison

A knock sounded at my door, and I looked up to find Cal standing there with Ava Rose in his arms, a sheepish smile on his face. “You coming down for dinner?”

I nodded, feeling exhausted and out of sorts. “Yeah, I just need to finish up a few things, and then I’ll be down. You need help?”

He turned to Ava Rose’s sleeping form, her little fist tight around the fabric of his t-shirt and smiled. “Nah, I got her. Just checking in on you and making sure, you know, that we’re good.”

“We’re good, Cal. I promise.”

“All right, see you down there.” He gave a heavy sigh before walking away as if he didn’t want to go down for Sunday dinner any more than I did.

Ten minutes later, I entered the dining room where everyone else had already gathered. Everyone but Bonnie, that is, and her chair was conspicuously missing. Weird.

“Glad you could join us.” Sadie’s tone was even enough, but that knowing look she sent left me feeling even more unsettled.

“Sorry I’m late. There was a problem with gate entry for one of the girls’ appointments, and I figured that was more important.” I kept my tone even too, but however subtle, over time, the point had been made that this was a family dinner, and I wasn’t family, at least not by my definition of the word.

“Good thinking,” Jasper said, either because he believed it or to diffuse the budding tension as Sadie and I stared each other down. “Have a seat,” he added, “I’m hungry as fuck.”

I took my seat at the far end of the table beside Kat and Terry and across from Vanessa and Emmett. They had only recently started coming to Sunday dinner regularly, and I wondered if it was because Sadie felt guilty about Lance’s death. No, I decided. Sadie didn’t feel guilty about anything.

I kept my mouth shut while the dishes went around the table, taking a little bit of corned beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, salad, and of course, sourdough bread. Sunday dinner at Ashby Manor was always a feast and the main reason I didn’t find something else to do on Sunday evenings.

Dinner with the Ashby family was a hell of a lot better than the lonely dinners I’d had in San Bernardino after Molly left for greener pastures. But lately, these meals made me realize that the more shit changed, the more it actually stayed the same. My bedroom was nicer, and my bank account had a higher balance than it used to, but nothing else had changed. Well, my location changed.

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