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R.J. was still throwing back shots with Ghost and Valan. GQ was watching me, as he often did, taking shit in. We patched the same year in the RRMC so although we hadn’t known each other but four and a half years we were close. GQ knew my heartache with Rae, and often he was the only one I could sit and talk with. Even R.J. was too close. Sometimes looking at my best friend reminded me of everything I’d lost.

It sucked and I didn’t mean to do that, but I was fucking stupid sometimes and missing Rae was an all-consuming loss that gutted me nearly every day.

I smiled at GQ and shook my head, indicating I was good. Not tonight. I had a specific reason for wanting to be alone. The sooner, the better, before midnight.

Five steps from my door I heard a shuffle behind me. I spun and caught Rafe’s fist with my hand before it could reach my face and clocked him in the jaw, knocking him off balance as I grabbed his shirt by the collar.

“I’m not the same kid I used to be Rafe,” I smirked, slamming him into the wall and enjoying the look of surprise on his scarred face. The years hadn’t been kind. He was haggard and worn and stunk like piss. I turned my nose up, close to retching, “You’d better watch your back, Pres because I’m not taking your shit anymore.”

He laughed and tried to throw his head forward but I slammed my palm into his forehead, and the back of his skull bounced off the drywall.

“Edge,” he slurred, obviously enjoying the party entirely too much. “Glad you’re back.”

Disgusted I tossed his lanky frame to the side. A man his age should take better care of himself. He was the club president. No wonder this place was out of control. Rafe was a goddamn disgrace.

“Go sleep it off Rafe and take a fucking shower. You stink.”

I didn’t stick around to find out what he did next. In my room, I locked the door and walked to my desk where I found the paper grocery bag left for me by GQ on my dresser. Peering inside I saw exactly what I had asked for, down to the candle.

An hour later I lay on my bed, unable to relax. My thoughts drifted to Rae as they did every single night but tonight was on purpose. I checked my watch for the third time in the last twenty minutes.

Would midnight fucking get here already?

I sat up, drumming my fingers on my thigh, agitated. Before I could think much about it, my hand gripped the wooden frame on my nightstand. I’ve kept a picture of Rae in my room since the day I patched. Her soft brown eyes twinkled up at me with the same love and innocent trust that haunted my dreams. I sank down in the bed and placed the frame on the pillow next to my head, staring at her for long moments.

My heart ached, my throat dry from the overindulgence and evening’s festivities, and my thoughts more than a little jumbled but I didn’t move. Just once I wished I would wake up and find all this mess was nothing but a horrible nightmare.

My eyes fluttered as I set the alarm on my phone for midnight and then closed, remembering the following morning after Rae was relocated . . .

Chapter 33

I sat in the sheriff’s office, Beckett hanging around by the door nervously. Three months had passed since Rae left. I frowned at Hollis once or twice waiting for him to end his call. If he didn’t hang up soon, I was going to do it for him.

As soon as he set the receiver to his office phone back down in the cradle, I pierced him with my stare.

“Where’s Rae?”

“You’re not going to like this son.” I wasn’t his fucking son. Beckett was standing right there. Boss your own kid around but not me. Don’t patronize me asshole.

“Where the hell is Rae?” I asked again, this time accentuating every word.

He blinked, looking genuinely apologetic, “I’m sorry Pete, I can’t say.”

“That wasn’t part of our deal,” I growled, standing. “You promised to give me her location.”

“And I would, if I had it, which I don’t.”

What? I slumped back into the chair, knowing the feds had screwed me over, just like I knew they would. “What the fuck happened?”

“The case was yanked from my hands and they played the trump card. No jurisdiction. They’re working a deal on a case they’ve been gathering evidence on for the last decade Pete. I don’t know a lot, but I do know it has something to do with RICO, the RRMC, and the affiliation with the Outlaws. It’s a big fucking mess to be honest.”

Hollis tipped his hat back off his forehead and pulled out a pack of smokes, tossing it in my direction.

“What’s RICO go to do with anything? It’s a damn Act created for organized crime back in the 60’s. The RRMC doesn’t earn like that,” I reminded him, lighting up a cigarette before I tossed the pack back. “We have legit business dealings and investments. Ron spent years gaining those alliances and trust,” I knew that much from Mack. He told me years ago.

Hollis lit up his own cig and took a few long drags, spitting tobacco out the side of his mouth. “Look, we both think we know how the RRMC earns, but the truth is you aren’t in that deep yet. Once you’re full patch and Rafe trusts you, then we can find out the truth and his connection to Striker and the Outlaws.”

“That’s an awfully risky gamble, especially for me,” I pointed out.

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