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“Liv knows the basics. I don’t like to keep her in the dark, but I also hate to make her worry.”

Tracker snorted. “I live with a former cop. She knows. There ain’t much she doesn’t know.”

Laughing, Spec swung a leg over his bike. “I hear that, brother.” He turned toward Jinx. “You tell Harp?”

He frowned as he shook his head. “No. Wasn’t sure how she’d take it. Didn’t want to stress her the fuck out.” The past few weeks had been good. Amazing, really. Not perfect, but amazing. He and Harper spent nearly every free moment together—meals, motorcycle rides, walks on the beach, and many, many hours in bed. For the most part, Harper’s walls stayed down. Every once in a while, her prickles returned, usually if they had a miscommunication or she got too caught up in her head, but they’d worked through it together. And once they sorted the issue, she kept her walls down, which he figured was a damn important victory.

“You might wanna clue her in next time. We’re pretty open with our ol’ ladies,” Tracker said. “Curly doesn’t mind them knowing shit within reason, and Jo appreciates being kept in the fucking loop. I’ll tell you that.”

“Liv too. She’s like a bloodhound when she senses something is off. Don’t know how men in other clubs keep their women in the dark about shit. She’s relentless until she gets what she wants, and she’d never go for that shit.”

Jinx laughed. “Man, you two sound pussy whipped.”

Tracker revved his engine. “Look in the mirror, brother.”

“Woohoo, how the mighty have fallen,” Spec yelled. “Oh, Harper, you look so pretty today,” he said in a horrendous imitation of Jinx’s voice. “Harper, wanna go steady? Harper, will you have my babies?”

Not even close.

“I don’t fucking say that shit.” Jinx flipped them off.

“What? Can’t hear you.” Laughing, Spec cupped his ear as Tracker shot out of the parking lot.


But he was chuckling as he rode off after them.

The ride to the address Spec’s contact gave them took about forty-five minutes. “Jesus,” Jinx said as he pulled up to a dilapidated house with a chain-link fence surrounding the entire property. The gate leading to a walkway was halfway open with a twisted latch that wouldn’t allow it to remain closed. A dim flood light above the garage lit the area enough to assess their surroundings.

The house, or crack den, was made up of light-colored shingles. A handful were missing, revealing the insulation beneath. All the windows had been boarded up long ago, and someone graffitied various gang symbols all over the plywood. Anyone walking by would assume the house was abandoned.

“Nice place,” he said as Spec strode toward him.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think tweakers are known for their design skills.”

A ferocious bark ripped through the quiet air.

“Holy fuck,” Tracker shouted.

The three of them jumped at least a foot back as a snarling pit bull lunged straight for them off the crumbling front porch steps. Thankfully, a three-foot chain kept the growling beast from tearing them to bits. The sound of the links clanking together as the beast tested their strength sent a wave of unease down Jinx’s spine. So much for the element of surprise. Anyone inside would know they were coming long before they figured out a way in that wouldn’t end up with their bones gnawed by an angry beast.

“Shoulda brought Brooke,” Tracker muttered. “She’s crazy enough to walk right up to that fucker and hand him a damn sausage.”

Jinx chuckled. “You know he’d be cuddling up to her within five seconds, too, even while baring his teeth at us. She’s a goddamn dog whisperer.”

“Hey, pup, any chance you wanna take a nap while we walk past you into the house?”

The dog’s answer was another round of ball-shrinking growls.

“Nice try, brother,” Jinx said with a snort. “The chain’s short, so we can walk around back without becoming his dinner. I’m sure there’s an entrance back there.”

“But is it nailed shut?” Spec grumbled.

“Why hasn’t anyone come out to see what’s upset the dog?” Tracker asked. He was as much of an animal lover as Brooke, so his concern for the animal came as no surprise.

“It’s nine o’clock. Anyone in there is already passed out or too fucking blasted to give a shit.” Spec stepped through the gate onto the property. He plastered himself against the fence and side-stepped along even though twelve or so feet separated him from the dog. The barking and growling increased tenfold. “Fuck, this guy wants to rip my throat out.”

“Too bad you didn’t think to pack hotdogs with your guns.” Jinx followed Spec through the gate with Tracker on his tail. “Let’s get this fucking over with.”

“Impatient now that you’ve got better shit to do, huh? Rather be in bed with your ol’ lady?”

Jinx grunted. “Obviously. Wouldn’t you?”