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“You got it.”

Viper stood up and said, “I’ll let you know if Shotgun finds out anything from our guest. Until then, keep on keepin’ on.”

Viper slammed the gavel down on the table, signaling the end of church, and the brothers started to disperse. I had all but forgotten my conversation with Country and Rafe until I heard Country ask, “So, what are you gonna do about the girl?”

“Not a damn thing.” I continued down the hall towards the bar. “Why would I? She’s the one who ran out.”

“Yeah, but maybe she had a good reason.”

“Then, she should’ve told me what the hell was going on.”

I sat down at the counter, then motioned over to Miley, one of the club’s hang-arounds, that we needed a round of beers. Once she’d brought them over, Rafe leaned over to Country and said, “He’s right. She should’ve filled him in if something was up and most likely would’ve if she thought there was a reason.”

“So, that’s that?” Country asked, sounding disappointed.

“Yeah, I reckon it is ... unless I hear from her.”

“Well, shit. I was looking forward to meeting this wildcat of yours.” Country chuckled. “Sounds like she’d fit right in around here.”

“She would have.”

A combination of disappointment and regret washed over me as I thought about Raelyn. It was tough to accept that things hadn’t turned out like I’d hoped, but there was nothing I could do about it. She’d made her decision, and that was that.

Besides, with everything going on, my focus needed to be on my brothers and the club. That thought led me to ask, “You think Shotgun will get anything out of this guy?”

“You know Shotgun. If this guy’s got something to tell, he’ll get him talking.”

“All this shit just seems so random.” I took a long pull from my beer, then continued, “Why would someone plant an explosive at Stilettos and then turn around and break into Jagger’s place? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Could be nothing.” Country shrugged. “Could be the beginning of something big. No way to know until Shotgun gets some intel.”

“You think he’s made any progress with him?”

“There’s one way we can find out.”

Country lifted his beer and finished it off, then stood and started walking towards the back door. I didn’t have to ask since I knew he was heading to Shotgun’s holding room—a place where our trusted enforcer extracted information from our adversaries using any means necessary.

Knowing what we were about to witness, Rafe and I grabbed our beers and quickly downed them, then rushed out of the bar. By the time we caught up with Country, he was already out at the garage and making his way into Shotgun’s hidden room.

We stepped inside and spotted Axel, Hawk, and Widow standing in front of the two-way mirror. They were so engrossed in what was happening that they didn’t even notice we’d joined them. I immediately glanced over at the window, and my stomach took an instant nosedive when I saw the state of the man Shotgun had been working over.

He was bound to a chair with his arms behind his back, his clothes were soaked in blood, and his face was swollen with bruises. The guy was barely conscious, and I wondered how much more he could take. I leaned over to Widow and asked, “Has he gotten anything out of him?”

“Not much. Managed to get that his name is Kordarius, and he swears that he and his buddies were just looking to make a quick buck when they broke into Jagger’s place.”

“You believe him?”

“Hard to tell.”

Viper and Jagger were standing in the corner, watching as Shotgun forced the asshole to his feet and bound his hands above his head. Sweat was streaming down his face as he tried to use his body weight to tug away from Shotgun, but his efforts were in vain. Shotgun was simply too strong.

He pulled the chains above Kordarius’s head tight, forcing him to his tiptoes, and the guy tugged on his restraints, shouting, “I’ve already told you. We were just looking for a quick score. Nothing more!”

“I don’t believe that shit.” Shotgun slammed his fist into his ribs, forcing the air out of his lungs. Kordarius started thrashing around, pulling at the chains as he gasped for air. Shotgun stepped towards him and growled, “Why that house? You could’ve gone to any one of them on the street, but you chose that one.”

“It was the easiest to get into.”

Remaining eerily calm, Shotgun leaned towards him. “You don’t really expect me to believe that shit, do you?”

“It’s the truth!”

“I’m getting tired of this bullshit.” Shotgun slipped on a pair of brass knuckles, then punched him in the ribs once again. Before Kordarius had a chance to recover, Shotgun slammed his fist into his abdomen and then the side of his face. If he’d hit him any harder, he would’ve broken his fucking jaw. Kordarius was groaning in agony as Shotgun roared, “Tell me what you were doing there, or I’m gonna end you right now!”

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