I really didn’t want to. Shit, I wasn’t getting a good feeling about the entire scenario. My mind was racing, trying to figure out if I’d done something to piss them off, but I couldn’t think of anything.

Poet, Slider, Doc, Grease, Dragon, and an old-timer named Smokey sat around the table, their faces drawn and tight.

“Hey, brother, we’ve got a situation,” Grease said quietly as his eyes met mine across the table. “Sit down.”

I made my way to the only open spot at the table, and was glad as hell that I’d already pulled out my chair when Poet started speaking, because if I hadn’t, my ass would have been on the floor.

“Early this morning, Tommy Gun’s woman was attacked,” he said. “Someone lit their fucking house on fire.” He paused to clear his throat and run his hand over his hair, from his forehead to the end of the long red braid hanging down his back. “Kids and Trish slept on the top floor. Didn’t make it out.”

The men were emotionless as they watched me take in the news, and as much as I wanted to pretend like it didn’t have any effect on me, I couldn’t hide it.

My head dropped forward as I squeezed my eyes shut. Fuck.

Trisha and Tommy had been together since they were fifteen years old. It was kind of crazy how well they balanced each other. They were both quiet—didn’t really get into any of the drama at the club or any of that shit—but anyone could see that Trish was Tommy’s North Star. She kept him grounded, stopped him from doing stupid shit without thinking it through, and gave him a reason to keep his shit together and come home. She’d given him five kids; the oldest was eleven and the youngest was three. Three girls and two boys. All gone.

Holy fuck.

“Where’s Tommy?” I asked Slider.

“Got home this morning from Portland, found the house and called us. He’s in his room. Fucker’s huge and we could barely corral him, had to have Doc knock him out,” he replied.

I paused for a minute to let it all sink in. They’d obviously wanted me there for a reason, but I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t even think about it. My head was too busy sorting through memories of Trisha and the kids.

Their oldest, Cameron, had a serious case of hero worship for me, and the kid followed me around whenever Tommy would bring him to the club. When Curtis, their five-year-old, was there, the worship was multiplied by two—he loved his older brother and if Cam wanted to be just like me, then Curt did too. Fuck me. I hadn’t had much contact with the girls, but what I’d seen of them, they were sweethearts. Little replicas of their mother, one of the sweetest women I’d ever met.

This was going to rock the club’s foundation, no doubt about it.

Shit, I was going to vomit.

I stood up and took quick steps to the outside door, losing what little was left in my stomach from the night before.

“You ready to come back in, brother?” Grease asked after I’d stopped dry heaving.

“Yeah. Be right there,” I replied.

When I got back into the room, the guys were speaking quietly to one another, but with one hand gesture from Slider they all fell silent.

“Tommy took some boys up to see what was going on with one of our suppliers in Portland. Name’s Thompson. The guy’s a pussy, but he’s been a solid contact for almost twenty years, so when he called saying he couldn’t do business with us anymore, I figured something or someone was fucking with him. Sent the boys up to give him protection if he needed it, or some incentive if that was the case,” Slider informed me.

“Turns out the man was already dead,” Poet added. “New gang up there took out his family and took over their business. Real shady shit.”

“Why am I here?” I asked, gesturing to the room we were in.

“Need you to go do your thing in Portland. Find out who these guys are and what they’re doing. Don’t ride your bike—we’ll give you one of the cars in the shop. Wear some of those college-boy clothes you have, get in and out,” Slider replied. “Need to know if they’re behind this shit with Trish, and if they’ve got any more plans to fuck with us before we retaliate.”

“I can do that,” I told Slider confidently. “Leave today?”

“Yeah, within the next coupla hours,” he said. “Don’t worry about shit down here. I’ll keep an eye on my daughter, and Grease is takin’ care of Callie and your gram. Just do your job and get your ass back here.”

“Will do.” We stood up from our chairs, and with a nod I left the room. I had a ton of shit to get ready if I was going to leave in two hours.

First on the list was Farrah.

With Tommy and Trish heavy on my mind, I started up my bike and headed toward home. I needed to see my woman and get lost in her for a while.

I had a feeling shit was going to get a whole lot worse before it got any better.

Chapter 14

Farrah

For most people, a day off work would mean a chance to sleep in until noon and lie around in their pajamas all day, but I couldn’t do it. I tried to find things to do when I wasn’t scheduled to work, so I wouldn’t have to sit alone in the apartment. It was still too quiet without Callie and Will, and it made me antsy.

I still saw them a lot. We spent time at Gram’s or brought Will to the park, but it wasn’t the same. Callie’s inner circle had widened; she was having playdates and shit with other women from the club, and even if I’d had kids, I wouldn’t have been a part of it. I’d been steering clear of all of them except for the few times Trisha had brought her kids over to Callie’s.