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“Something going on?” I asked after a while. I needed to focus. I needed something to do—action, motion, decisions. Hard, real things, things that I could put my hands on and move around. All this thinking and these feelings were starting to overwhelm me.

“No, not a thing in the world,” he said. “I was just passin’ by and saw your door open, so I thought I’d see if you needed a hand with anything.”

I looked around, but the office didn’t offer any good suggestions. Hell, maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling a little listless around the clubhouse. We could all do with a mission, or at the very least some goddamn chores. Whatever it took to get everyone off their ass and feeling normal again. But it was one of those random lulls in business, when there just wasn’t enough to do to keep the men busy. I couldn’t even find something for myself to get occupied with.

“I got nothing, man. I’m sorry.”

Slick seemed a little taken aback. “Oh, it’s all good, boss. You ain’t gotta apologize. I was just tryin’ to be helpful, that’s all.”

“Thanks, Slick.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. I felt a headache coming on, deep behind my eyeballs. “Is Jay back?”

“Nah, he’s still down at the warehouse helping Duncan and Spark unload the long-haul shit.”

“Maybe I’ll go down there and give them a hand.”

“I think they’re just about done. But hey, maybe the fresh air will do you some good. Can’t have you getting sick, Ben.”

I waved a hand as he shrugged and left the room. He was right. I needed to get out of this cramped, musty office. A long ride on the bike might help shake some of these sticky thoughts from my head.

I grabbed my keys and strode out of the office, tugging the door shut behind me. The barroom was mostly empty, though a few men sat drinking alone in the corners. Pushing through the main entrance, I stepped out into the warm night.

The courtyard separating the clubhouse from the street was scrubby and empty. I headed for the gate, but when I was halfway across the yard, I saw a figure move through it. It was a big motherfucker, tall and broad-shouldered. I couldn’t make out his face, but the dim glow from the streetlight in the far corner was enough to reflect off his hair. I saw it was flowing and white.

My eyes started to widen as realization and the man’s voice struck me at the same time. “Ben Killmore, you son of a bitch,” he growled as he took two quick steps towards me and unloaded a powerful fist into my gut.

I doubled over as pain erupted where he’d hit me. He swung another punch across my jaw and I reeled to the side, falling onto one knee in the dirt. My whole face was burning, but I managed to scramble to pull out the knife I kept in my boot. I sprang backwards and held it in front of me. Blood dripped down my chin.

“I know you aren’t stupid enough to come hit me on my own front porch, James,” I said in a low voice. “All I have to do is raise my voice and my boys will have your ass strung up in the tree out back before you fucking know what hit you.”

“I got every right to beat your ass bloody,” he replied.

“What the fuck gives you that right?”

“You know damn well what it is.”

I didn’t have a fucking clue what he was talking about. I was still stunned at the sudden attack. Who in their right mind stepped into the turf of one of the city’s most feared MCs and started swinging at their president? Only a drunk or a lunatic would be that ballsy. James was neither, as far as I knew. His gaze was level and his fists were held up at the ready. He really was intent on doing me some harm.

“You’re losing it, old man.”

“You’re going to lose your fucking balls if you don’t own up to what you did.”

My stomach turned. He must have found out about the raid.

But even as the thought crossed my mind, I realized that made no sense. If he’d discovered we were the ones who jacked his cash stash, he would’ve come with an army. Looking through the gates, I saw his bike was the only one parked out front. Why the hell would he come storming in solo?

It had to be something else. But what?

“You’re gonna need to explain yourself very carefully, James,” I said in a cold voice, “and very quickly, too, or else I’ll slice you from balls to brains.”

He straightened up. “You touched my baby girl,” he whispered. “You fucking used her. Like one of your whores.”

“Now I’m sure you’ve lost it. I’ve never even met your daughter.”


Tags: Zoey Parker Romance