I rinsed my mug and placed it in the dish rack. “I will be. Just got some stuff going on this week.”

“Not that we can really afford it, but do you need some time?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m good.”

He watched me thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. “Let me know if that changes.” He waited for my response and at my nod, he continued. “Will you be okay without me for a few hours later today? Harlow’s got an appointment with her doctor and I want to take her. She’s happy to go on her own but it’s important to me to be there if possible.”

“You go, brother. I’ll keep things ticking over here.”

“Thanks.” His shoulders relaxed a little and I wondered at the reason for his level of stress over her. Last I’d heard, they were doing better.

“Everything good with her?”

“I suggested she talk with her doctor about her depression. I mean, fuck, I don’t know if how she is would be classified as depression, but she’s not right. And I don’t think it can hurt to talk to someone about it and find out what her options are for treatment.”

“She took that okay?”

“Yeah, she’s let me back in so that makes shit easier.” He scrubbed his face before changing the subject. “You hear anything from Wilder about those two guys?”

“Not yet, but he said he’d be here soon with some information when I texted him this morning.”

His eyes revealed his concern when he said, “We’ve gotta get to the bottom of everything, Griff. I’ve got a bad fuckin’ feeling about some of this. And I think Ricky’s tied up with it all.”

I agreed with everything he’d said.

And on top of all that, I had a bad feeling swirling in my gut about the shit from my past. I needed to deal with that, too, and fast.

* * *

“So, you’re telling me we’ve got nothing to worry about where those two are concerned?” Scott asked Wilder after he’d filled us in on what he’d found out about the two guys we’d seen outside the Eclipse Bar yesterday.

Wilder nodded. “Seems to be that way. From what I’ve heard, their gig is robberies here and there, but nothing that impacts us. Arrived in town a couple of weeks ago but aren’t connected to anyone of concern.”

“Thank Christ. We don’t need anyone else to worry about at the moment,” Scott said.

“No luck with the restaurant fire?” Wilder asked.

“Not a damn thing. Brisbane’s not fuckin’ talking. And Hyde hasn’t been able to uncover anything either,” Scott replied.

Wilder frowned. “Can I do some digging today? Or do you need me on other things?”

“You got an idea who it might be?” Scott asked.

“No, but I know someone who might know something.”

“Who?” Scott urged.

Wilder fidgeted which was unusual; I’d never seen him fidget before. “I can’t say, sorry man.”

Scott’s shoulders tensed. “Wilder, you’re a patched member of this club now. Your loyalty is expected to be one hundred percent with us, and that means if you know something, we expect you to share that with us. Regardless of who it affects.” He paused for a moment, his eyes boring into Wilder’s. When he spoke again, his voice was harder than usual. “The only people you should be worried about now are members of your club. Are you reading me?”

Wilder stood across from him, his body now also tense, as if he was preparing for a fight. “I read you, Scott, but I’m gonna need some time, because if this person does know something, the blowback on her won’t be pretty, and I refuse to put her in that situation without preparing her for it. I will give you her name, but not yet.”

After contemplating that, Scott asked, “How much time are we talking here?”

“A day.”

Scott nodded. “You have a day, but within twenty-four hours I want that name and that information.” It stunned me that Scott gave him that, and it showed me the respect he had for Wilder.

“You’ll have it,” he agreed.

As he walked away from us, Scott called out, “And Wilder?” Wilder turned back to look at us, and Scott continued, “This is the first and last time we have a conversation like that.”

Wilder gave a nod of understanding and then left us.

My phone rang at that moment, distracting me because of the name on the caller ID. “Josie. Everything okay?”

“Michael, I’ve hurt myself. Can you come now, please?” Her voice was off, and alarm coursed through me.

“I’m on my way,” I replied.

* * *

I jogged up Josie’s front stairs, worried as fuck for her. She never begged me to come and help her. I half expected to find her passed out when I walked through her front door.

Her front door that was open right now. That was odd.

Fuck.

“Josie,” I called out as I entered and strode down her hallway.

“We’re in here.”

I halted. I’d know that voice anywhere. Sweet as fucking sin, and more dangerous than half the danger I’d ever come up against in my life. That voice could make a man do things he never dreamt he’d ever do.

When I didn’t reply, Sophia stepped from the kitchen into the hallway and smiled at me. That smile shot straight to my dick, and I sucked in a breath at the force of it. She wore goddamn shorts again. Jesus fucking Christ, those shorts would be the death of me.