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Her eyes widen. “Aw, crap. I know you need the work, but I’d be bummed if you moved that far away.”

“It wasn’t a sure thing.” I shrug. “They probably won’t want to hire me once I start showing.”

“Well, you don’t want to work for someone who discriminates against pregnant people anyway.”

“True,” I chuckle. Right about now I’ll take anything, but I keep that to myself. “Lot of bad memories for me down there.”

“Aw, honey.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You’re so much stronger now. You can handle anything.”

I return the gentle squeeze. “Thank you. The more you keep reminding me, the more I believe it myself.”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Chapter Seven

Grinder

Ironworks.

Damn. Last time I stepped foot on this side of the river, my presence could’ve kicked off a turf war with the Vipers MC.

The small city doesn’t look that much different from what I remember. Maybe a little cleaner than it used to be. More cutesy shops and fancy-looking restaurants. Lots of parking meters. The one-way streets are still narrow and lined with crookedly parked cars.

“No Vipers left in this area,” Rock says as if he’d read my mind. He points toward my window. “Lost Kings hold everything to the Vermont line now.”

“How the fuck you doing that with such a small club?”

“Ruthless determination.” He flashes a grim smile. “Murder. Mayhem. Intimidation. All the usual tools.”

“Jesus, you’re a scary bastard.”

“That’s a compliment from you.”

I grunt, wishing I’d left a better legacy for Rock. Impending fatherhood must be making me question all my life choices even more than usual.

“Seriously, though,” Rock continues. “We do it by building alliances. Loco’s a pain in my ass but—I can’t believe I’m going to say this—we have a similar mindset in some ways.”

“What ways are those? I don’t remember us ever being okay with prostitution.”

He sighs. “I’m not thrilled. But he seems to look after his girls. He’s not trafficking minors—”

“Christ, that’s a low bar.”

His jaw twitches. “The girls seem to be working for him willingly. He offers them protection for something they’d be doing anyway.”

“Yeah, I can’t trust a man who makes a living off the backs of women. Literally off their backs.”

“I hear you.” He side-eyes me. “Crystal Ball isn’t much different.”

“Showing off your body is different than letting strangers into it.”

From the back seat, Teller leans over and pats my shoulder. “Grandpa’s lettin’ loose with the harsh truths today.”

“You grandpa me again, I’m gonna gut you,” I warn, shrugging him off. The fucker’s been so quiet this whole ride, I almost forgot he was back there. Then again, that’s how Teller and Murphy learned so much in the early days, by being quiet and blending into the background. I shouldn’t forget that. The mouthing off he’s supposedly known for came later.

“You’re all right with this?” I ask Teller.

“Like Rock said, Loco takes care of his girls. Doesn’t tolerate any clients treating them bad or anything.” He shrugs. “If you knew what the Vipers had been into and the shit they did, you’d be thanking God Loco moved into this space. Someone’s gonna do it. Might as well be someone who isn’t pure evil.”

“Still never gonna have an opinion different from Rock, are ya?” I scoff. Wrath used to joke about him being Rock’s mini-me for a reason.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch his scowl, while Rock smirks.

“When I think he’s wrong, I tell him,” Teller says.

Rock tips his head, staring at Teller in the rear-view mirror. “But I’m rarely wrong.”

“Don’t get crazy, Prez.”

“Knucklehead has no problem runnin’ his mouth.” Pride and affection are wrapped up in Rock’s words.

“Your woman okay with you hanging out at a whorehouse?” I ask Teller.

“I don’t exactly ask her permission.” Teller leans against the back seat. “She doesn’t ask about club business unless it’s important.” He chuckles under his breath. “Charlotte wouldn’t waste time worrying if I’m sampling the goods, anyway.” He raises his hand and scissors his fingers. “She’d just chop off my dick while I’m asleep one night.” He laughs harder.

“The quiet redhead?” She didn’t seem like the violent old lady type.

“She ain’t that quiet,” Teller mutters.

I turn and find him smirking to himself while tapping on his phone. Obviously, he’s keeping in touch with his girl. After a few seconds, he glances up.

“You want to meet up with Carter this week?” He lifts his chin toward me. “He’s got some sketches if you want to take a look.”

Christ, how can I set up time to get inked when I don’t know what the hell’s going on with Serena? “Yeah, let’s see how the day shakes out.”

“All right.” He returns to his phone.

“How close are we?” I ask Rock.

“Not far.”

“Thanks. That’s helpful,” I grumble, pulling out my own phone. I doubt Serena bothered to answer one of the twenty texts I’ve sent her, but I check anyway.

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