“I’m in love, brother. When you know, you know.” His deep laugh resonates from within him and fills the van.

“If you say so.” I shake my head and rest back in my chair. The next time he asks me a question, I pretend to be asleep. He’s already schooled me enough tonight. I don’t need him to know I was already affected by it.

We pull into the clubhouse early the next morning. After picking up the woman in Henderson, we drove her back to Rushford and set her up in one of the safe houses we have here. She will stay there for a week before we move her again with a new identity.

“The gate’s open,” I say aloud, but more to myself than anything.

“Maybe Nix is in.” Jesse sits up a little straighter. Both of us on alert. I know Nix said he would lock up after we left, so the gate being open puts me on edge.

“At five in the morning?” I pull out my cell and bring Nix’s name up. Jesse opens his door and walks toward the gate, pushing it fully open so I can drive through.

“Yeah,” Nix grumbles, coming out of sleep.

“You at the clubhouse?”

“No, why?” His voice becomes more alert at the mere question.

“Front gate is open.”

“I left after you took the van out. Locked that shit up tight ‘cause no one was in.”

“Nix?” Kadence’s whisper comes through the line.

“Shh, go back to sleep, babe.” I hear rustling and I know he’s moving through the house. “Check it out and call me back.” He hangs up as Jesse gets back in the van.

“Got your gun on you?” I ask, knowing he probably does.

“Yep.” He reaches for his gun as I pull up just short of the club parking lot.

“You carrying?” he asks, checking the chamber, the click and release ringing out between us.

“Yep. You take the front. I’ll take the back.” I put the van in park, both of us pushing our doors open and moving out.

I reach for my gun and watch Jesse head swiftly toward the front door. He clicks his tongue, pointing to the busted lock on the front door. I nod, bringing my gun up and walk around to the back of the clubhouse.

Instantly I’m alert, ready to act. The back door has been smashed in with a chair, shards of glass both inside and out. It cracks under my feet as I gently lift the chair out of my way and step over the debris and into the clubhouse. I walk through quietly. The rooms are dark with the sun not up, but I continue to clear each room as I go.

The place has been ransacked, both sofas are shredded, the top of the pool table sliced. The bar has been smashed up, every bottle cracked over the Oakwood countertop with shards of glass and liquid everywhere. It’s a complete fucking mess.

I catch movement to my left, and I clock Jesse clear the front hallway. He looks up, his gun still trained in front of him. I point to my right, signaling for him to go first toward the bedrooms.

He nods once and then steps forward. We search each room one by one. They show signs of being torn up. Beds slashed, mirrors smashed, furniture thrown across each room. The dirty fuckers even pissed on some of the beds. Fucking hell.

After we clear every room, we meet back out front in the main area.

“Jesus Christ. Cunts pissed on my bed.” Jesse kicks at one of the broken stools.

“What a fucking mess.” I look around. I wouldn’t even know where to start.

“How the fuck did they pass the alarm?” Jesse asks, moving to Nix’s office.

“I don’t fucking know. I’m gonna check the shed. Get Nix down here.” I head back through the clubhouse the same way I came in. As I clear the back door, I notice a figure to my right crouching down behind the shed. Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I keep my pace smooth. The asshole can’t see me, but he can still turn at any time.

Making quick work, I clear half of the space between us, before he looks back and notices me. His hat is slung low, so I don’t get a good look at him before he stands, aims his gun and shoots off three rounds.

“Fucker.” I fall to the grass, taking cover and watching him bolt for the front gate.

“Jesse, out the front!” I find my feet and shout out, hoping he can cut him off. He’s too fast for me.

The guy takes the corner before I do, but I pick up speed, not willing to let him get away. He’s halfway to the gate by the time I take the corner. Jesse races out the front door, and takes the lead, before managing to spear him to the ground in a loud thud. I watch them struggle with a gun for a bit before Jesse manages to disarm him and pin him down, but not before a bullet leaves the chamber. The heat from it slices right pass me just as I reach them.

“Motherfucker.” Jesse presses his knee into his chest and knocks his hat back as I train my gun down at him.

It’s the dumb fuck who jumped me three weeks ago.

“You have to be fucking shitting me.” I look down at the piece of shit named Baz.

“Fuck you, fucker.” He continues to fight. Jesse’s fingers wrap around his throat forcing him down.

“You fucked up, man.” I squat down beside him.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“You couldn’t have made it any easier for me.” I bring the butt of my gun down to the side of his head hard, knocking him out cold.

“I enjoyed that too much.” I let out a breath as Jesse comes to a stand.

“He got ya.” He points to my arm and the slight grazing about three inches long marks my skin. It’s nothing to be concerned with. Just a slight burning sensation, but I’m pissed he marked me.