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Prologue
Grinder
Thirteen years ago.
Pine Correctional Facility, Upstate New York
Time waits for no man. It spins ahead, out of our control, no matter how hard we wish it would slow. For some, it seems to go by too fast. For others, it drags on and on, while you slowly rot away.
Prison steals time better than any thief.
It had stolen two years from me so far.
Rock stared at the papers in his hand, then stuffed them in a large yellow envelope before tucking it under his mattress on the lower bunk. “I hate leaving you behind.”
The raw anguish in his voice punched me in the gut.
“It’s not right,” he continued.
“It is what it is,” I grumbled. “I’m sorry I got you into this.”
He’d be checking out of the correctional facility we’ve called home for the last couple of years any day now.
But I’d bought myself an extended stay. I’d had no other options. It was kill or be killed. My body was littered with the scars of survival. I did what I had to do to keep us alive and didn’t regret my choices.
Now the time had come.
One of us had to stay.
One of us had to leave.
“Use your head. I don’t want to see you in here again,” I warned him. “You feel me?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Do better than that.” My words needed to be a hammer to pound this into his thick skull. “Keep Wrath and Zero out of trouble. You’ve got the cunning and skills. They’ll follow your lead.”
His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “So cunning, I ended up in here?”
Rock was smart. I had faith he could run the club the way it was meant to be run.
He was also still a smart-ass. Prison hadn’t stolen that from him yet. “That was Ruger’s doing, and you’re gonna set that right once you’re out and can make a plan to dethrone that disloyal fuck.” I lowered my voice. “Marcel and Blake are good kids. Watch out for them. Especially Marcel. Keep his ass out of juvie, for fuck’s sake.”
“Wrath’s got him on a tighter leash since he got out. He’s not lettin’ either of ’em run errands for Ruger.”
“Good. They’ll be brothers for life if you mold them right. Owe their loyalty to you ’til the day they die.”
He cocked his head and gave me a sideways glance. “The way you molded me as a kid?”
A flash of guilt pummeled me. “No one else was lookin’ out for ya. Your fucking father was too busy whoring around and starting fights.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Fuck.”
“You’re gonna be fine. Turn the club around. Carve out the dead weight.” I squeezed my hands into fists. “Get us out of guns—the brotherhood was never supposed to be about unlimited power and piles of cash. Ruger’s forgotten the meaning of loyalty—letting brothers starve while he’s feasting. He ain’t fit to wear that president’s patch.”
“Amen to that.”
“Build whatever alliances you can with other clubs. That’s the only way we’re gonna keep law enforcement at bay. Get us away from the fucking cartel before they chop off all our heads.”
“Christ, brother. That’s a tall order.”
“You can do it. I have faith in you.”
He nodded slowly and ran his hand over the back of his neck. I could see the wheels turning; he was already searching for the right path. “Wrath said Sparky’s got a few ideas. If we can find the right facility.”
I choked on a laugh. “Fucking Cronin. That little shit’s a smart kid. He’s ready to wear a full-piece patch.”
Rock side-eyed me then laughed. “Yeah.”
“Keep Dixon close,” I continued. “He’s got your mindset. Well, except he doesn’t fuck every woman that walks by—”
“I don’t—”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved my hand in his face, dismissing his protest. “I know you took a break for Carla. But you’re a free man now—in more ways than one. You’ll be back at it.”
“Fuck off,” he growled.
“Try to find yourself a good woman.” I continued my lecture, ignoring his attitude. I couldn’t risk him doing something reckless and winding up back inside, and a good woman would have the power to anchor him. “Find someone loyal, for fuck’s sake. Not a bitch who’s gonna undermine you at every turn. You need someone who can understand and love the club. A girl who will help you shape it into a family.”
He slowly turned his head and stared at me. “Sway’s poison. He needs to go too.” Interesting, how he connected Sway’s wife to my warning so quickly.
“Then make it intolerable for him to stay. With Ruger gone, the rest of the trash will take itself out.” I ran through a mental list of brothers we’d be able to count on. “You’ll have a small crew. But that’s okay. Expand slowly. Vet each prospect thoroughly. Not everyone’s fit to wear our patch.”
