Grady was discharged just after five in the afternoon. He’d been given a half-dozen Tylenol with codeine to deal with the pain, with strict orders not to indulge. If he wanted more after that, he would have to see a physician. He pocketed the pills with no intention of taking them. Already near the edge, emotionally and physically, he had enough problems as it was without dulling his mind with pain pills. The pain from his broken ribs served as a reminder. He deserved the pain. He’d been careless. By all rights, he should be dead now, a bullet in his head from whomever had been driving that SUV.

His bike had been impounded, but he didn’t have his wallet nor access to a credit card or his bank account to get it out. He couldn’t believe he’d left his cabin without grabbing his wallet. He frowned. He was more than distracted. He was slipping. He was losing his edge. He had to pull it together or he’d be no good to the club or to Callie. Shit. He was going to have to call Levi and get him to send someone for him.

How much would his bike cost to bail out? Not to mention what it might cost for repairs. Shit again. The fucking cherry on top was the humiliation of being rolled out of the hospital in a wheelchair—policy, the nurse told him. Even better was the sight of the two cops that had been in his room earlier when she wheeled him into the lobby. They stood near the front doors, watching the elevators. They glanced at the nurse pushing him, then at each other.

“Mind if we have a word with him in private?” Officer Hooper asked the nurse.

“Sure thing,” she said, gesturing. “He’s been discharged, so I was just taking him outside. A cab or someone can pick him up from there.” She looked down at Grady. “Should I call you a cab, sir, or do you have someone who can pick you up?”

He inhaled a small breath. Don’t lose it here. There’s time for that later, when punching an asshole won’t get you arrested. “I got someone picking me up,” he replied.

The nurse nodded and left while both officers peered at Grady. Shaughnessy spoke. “You got a clean record, Corben. I hope you keep it that way.”

What was he supposed to say to that? He remained silent.

“We checked out your story, and that of Ms. Barnes. We’ll be speaking with our captain tonight, see if we can get patrols increased in her neighborhood, keep a closer watch on her.” Shaughnessy frowned down at him. “It’s obvious you’re concerned about her, but we don’t want you getting involved. Leave it to us. Got it?”

Grady nodded, still saying nothing. He had no intentions of leaving anything to the police. They were bound by rules and procedures. He wasn’t. Someone was after Callie. Someone wanted her and was not going to take no for an answer. He’d failed her once in stopping the guy, just like he’d failed David. It wasn’t going to happen again.

“You got someone to come pick you up, or do you want us to drive you out to your . . . wherever you live?”

God, he hated every second of this, but what could he do? “If I could borrow couple of quarters, I’ll use the pay phone over there and have a friend pick me up.”

Shaughnessy nodded, dug into his pocket, and retrieved two quarters. He handed them to Grady, gave him a stern look, and then the two of them walked out of the hospital, the sliding front doors swishing softly open and shut behind them. Grady watched them go and wheeled himself over to the phone bank in a small hallway nearby.

He locked the wheels on the wheelchair, stood, and took a few careful steps toward the phone, wincing at the pain shooting through his chest, his shoulders, and into his neck. He felt like he’d been run over by a Mack truck, every muscle in his body screaming with stiffness and pain. His ribs throbbed, as did his head. He lifted the receiver from the phone, slid two quarters into it, and punched the number to Levi’s phone. Two rings later, the president of the Steel Kings answered.

“’lo, who is this?”

“Levi, it’s Grady.”

“Where the hell are you?”

“Memorial Hospital. Can you send someone to pick me up? My bike’s been impounded, and it’s probably going to need repairs.” He paused, embarrassed. “Oh, and I need some money to deal with all that. Left my wallet in my cabin. I’ll pay it back.”

A pause. He knew Levi well enough to know that he wouldn’t ask questions now, but he would be demanding answers soon enough.

“You okay?”

“I will be,” he said. “I’ll be waiting out front. Thanks.”

He hung up, and leaving the wheelchair where it was, he walked stiffly toward the front of the hospital, through the sliding front glass doors, then out into the early evening sky that was glowing with a myriad of colors that reminded him of sherbet ice cream. As he moved, he loosened up a little.

He’d lost a whole day. He located a park bench sitting amidst a cluster of greenery off to the side of the front entrance and carefully sat down, breathing slowly, trying to calm himself, his mind spinning. Who had shot at him? Who was stalking Callie? He needed to get back to her house before night fell, but her words kept coming back to haunt him.

Who’s going to protect you from yourself?

Within forty minutes, he heard the grumble of a chopper arriving near the hospital’s front entrance and turned toward it as the rider bounced up the driveway and slowly rolled through the parking lot toward the entrance. Grady recognized the bike immediately. Shit and double shit! Levi. He frowned. The president had come to fetch him rather than sending someone else. Why?

Levi saw him sitting on a bench, raised his arm, and then just as Grady began to stand, wincing once more at the pain of movement, Levi drove past, waving him to sit down as he pulled his bike into a nearby parking space, turned off his bike, and climbed off. Wearing battered jeans, a T-shirt, and his leather cut, Levi approached Grady. His hair, cut close to his skull, gave the stocky man an intimidating appearance, although Grady knew that Levi was one of the most mild-mannered people he’d ever met—unless you made him angry.

With a sigh, Levi sat down next to Grady, glancing at the lights glowing yellowish-white blazing from inside the hospital, then out to the quiet parking lot, watching an older couple make their way toward the front entrance. The older man braced his wife’s elbow with his hand, his cane tapping along the asphalt driveway.

“You okay?”

Grady turned to Levi, slowly nodding under his president’s narrowed gaze. “Three busted ribs, cuts and scrapes, but I’ll live.”

“Want to tell me what happened?”

So he did. Grady told Levi about how he had gone to speak to Callie last night, about the dark SUV, about the chase and how it had ended. Levi said nothing. Finally, Grady broke the awkward silence. “I owe it to her to protect her, or at least try. I owe it to David, too.”

Levi stretched his legs out in front of them, crossed his feet at the ankles, and leaned one arm against the back of the bench. He turned to Grady. “I get it, Grady. But you’re pushing it. You went rogue on your own. No one to back you up. And here I am coming to fetch you like you’re a teenager who missed the bus.”

Grady said nothing. He knew Levi was right but didn’t know what other decision he could have made. “I wasn’t going to get the club involved, Levi. Not even you. This is my problem to take care of. You don’t need to be dragged into it. Besides, the cops, they wouldn’t like it much anyway, would they?” Levi didn’t reply. “This is my problem, Levi. I’ll take care of it on my own.”

Levi said nothing for several moments and then heaved a sigh. “Grady, I’m going to tell you something in confidence. About something I rarely want to talk about. Like you, I’ve got my own . . . issues.”

He glanced at Grady, his expression as somber as he had ever seen. The look in his eyes . . . it was . . . haunted. He frowned. Levi rarely talked about himself or his past. Why now?

“I used to be a Navy SEAL, so I get it. I really do.”

Grady had suspicions that Levi was also a vet, but it had never been confirmed by Levi, and he never asked. Every member of the Kings pretty much minded their own business. It didn’t matter what they were before. All that mattered was what they were now.

“You’re not the only vet in our group. The fact is, some of us have just always had trouble fitting in, belonging, and you know that as well as I do. You know that old saying, birds of a feather flock together?” He glanced at Grady as he nodded. “Well that’s us, I suppose. Some of us have histories, some criminal, some moral, some just plain bad luck. But I’ll tell you one thing, Grady, is that we’re a family. And while I understand your need and your desire to protect your girl, you also have a responsibility to us. We’re your family, too.”

“I understand that, Levi, but—”

“No buts, Grady.” He signed, shifted position, and leaned forward, tucking in his legs and resting his elbows on his knees, contemplating. Finally, he turned his head toward Grady and continued. “I do understand. My little sister . . .”

Grady glanced at Levi with surprise, then quickly schooled his expression. Levi didn’t want his pity. That’s not where the conversation was going. Levi’s jaw tightened, the muscles tense, his eyes taking on a hard glare as he stared out over the parking lot before turning back to Grady.

“Let’s just say I know a bit about pain.”

Now it makes sense, the fact that sometimes, sometimes, Levi worked with law enforcement, and why he was so . . . focused on the news about that kid that had been kidnapped from her family. His heart thudded dully in his chest. Levi was right. They all had histories. Lots of pain, perhaps more than a few regrets . . .

“I got myself into some trouble a while back, stuff that doesn’t really matter now,” Levi shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ll never stop looking. But I also know that I have a responsibility to our club. They rely on me. And I’m relying on you, Grady.”

A flash of irritation rose in Grady and he turned to his president, his friend. “You sound a lot like Seth, and we both know that Seth hates my guts.”

Levi shook his head. “No, Grady, Seth doesn’t hate you. He’s just overprotective. Mainly of me. We’ve known each other since we were kids. And just between you, me, and the fence post, Seth is dealing with some of his own drama with family, but that’s his story to tell, not mine. I’ll tell you one thing. Loyalty means a lot to every single one of us. You get where I’m going with this, don’t you?”

Grady said nothing. So he had to choose? Is that what Levi wanted him to say? He looked at Levi, noted his serious mien and his slightly lifted eyebrow. His spoke softly, his tone cool. “Are you questioning my loyalty? You, too, Levi?”

“No, I’m not. I know you’re loyal to the group. I’m also sensing a deep sense of loyalty to your buddy, this David, and his widow. And I understand. But we’ve got problems brewing with the Jokers. You can’t be two places at once.”

Grady frowned. What exactly did Lonny want from him, right this minute? Claims of loyalty, fealty, his promise to forsake all others for the sake of the club? And what about Callie?

“The cops aren’t going to protect her,” Grady said. “They don’t even know who they’re looking for.”

Levi nodded. “And you do?”

Grady sighed, carefully and slowly, every breath causing twinges and stabs of pain in his chest. He shook his head, then regretted the resulting pain pounded in his head. “No.”

“I guess I’ll just come right out and ask then.” Levi looked him straight in the eye. “Are you going to do your job with the Steel Kings or are you thinking of leaving?”

Grady darted a glance at Levi, mouth open in surprise. “What? When haven’t I ever done my job for the Kings?”

“You’ve been doing fine, up until now,” Levi said.” He finally stood, looking down at Grady. “Look, I understand where you’re coming from. We all have people. But this isn’t—”

“Isn’t the best time? Is there ever one to have a fucking stalker?” Grady asked, carefully crossing his arms over his chest and glaring up at Levi. It was one of the first times he’d ever felt a sense of anger toward the president, frustrated with Levi’s comments, which only triggered his own volatile emotions. Where exactly did his loyalties lie? What did he want for his future? Is that what he wanted to know? He couldn’t just quit the Kings, even if he wanted to. There were protocols and processes.

“Come on,” Levi said. “I’ll take you back to your cabin. Clear your head.”

Grady stood slowly, his thoughts all over the map, along with his emotions. He hadn’t expected this from Levi. When had he done anything to trigger their doubt in that loyalty? Sure, he was volatile and he was struggling to find an even keel, but that didn’t mean he was ready to chuck his life with the club. Far from it. A sudden surge of uncertainty swept through him. What would he do without them? Levi had done nothing but tell the truth. They were his family now. They provided a structure and stability that he desperately needed. Even Seth, despite the fact that they often clashed and butted heads, they were all family. A bunch of misfits with nowhere else to go.

At the same time, he had a responsibility toward Callie. His hand fisted around the bench they sat on. Even without his history with David, there was no way in hell he’d be leaving Callie to face this crap alone. Their night together had done nothing but cement what he’d already known. He was hers until his dying day, even if all she wanted was friendship. He was never leaving her. Right now, she needed him for more than just letting off some sexual frustration. Someone out there wanted her just as much as he did, only they didn’t give a shit if Callie wanted them in return. If he didn’t look after her, who would? What if he—

Grady lurched to his feet. “I need to go check on Callie.”

“You need your wheels.”

Shit. Grady looked at Levi, who stared back at him with an implacable gaze. “Yeah, my bike’s been impounded, and I haven’t seen it yet. It might be trashed.” The thought brought him no little disappointment. He’d put thousands of dollars into his bike, and he hoped that it wasn’t a total loss. He could replace fenders and small stuff, but if the frame was damaged, he’d have to call the insurance company.

“Let’s go take a look at it. Maybe you’re in luck.”

That would be the day. He slowly walked behind Levi as he headed for his bike, and climbed on behind his president, biting back a gasp of pain as he swung his leg over the saddle. He’d barely settled himself before Levi started the bike and took off, bouncing down the driveway, causing another jolt of pain to shoot through Grady’s body. It started at the base of his spine and worked its way up until it exploded in his brain. He bit back a hiss of pain. It was nothing less than he deserved. Instinctively, he clutched Levi’s jacket in his fist, not only to maintain his balance on the seat, but to prevent himself from yelping in pain as Levi flew over a speed bump.

Levi knew exactly how to get to the police impound yard. How he knew, Grady didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. They stopped at a guard booth tucked into the ten-foot-high fence topped with razor wire. Grady gave his name and the make and model of his bike.

“Three hundred dollars to get her out,” the cop at the booth said.

Grady opened his mouth to protest. Three hundred bucks? It wasn’t even his fault that the bike had been brought here. Levi held up a hand, reached into his back pocket, extracted his wallet, slid three one-hundred dollar bills out, and gave it to the officer.

The gate opened, and Levi coasted his bike into the fenced-in lot, the officer directing them toward impounded motorcycles and handing Grady the keys to his bike. Levi parked and turned off his bike and after he nudged the kickstand down, they both climbed off, Grady again wincing at the effort.

They made their way over to a line of about twenty motorcycles ranging from dirt bikes to ridiculous looking choppers. Grady found his bike about halfway through. He assessed it carefully while Levi stood and watched, arms crossed over his chest. Squeezing his way in between his bike and one next to it, Grady climbed astride the bike, making sure the gearshift was in neutral, and rolled it forward. It was a little dinged up with a good-sized dent in the gas tank, the fenders scraped, his exhaust pipes dented and scratched, but the frame and engine looked okay. He slid the key into the ignition and turned it. He pressed the button on the handlebar with his thumb, and the bike roared to life, coughed a couple of seconds, and then caught.

“You lucked out,” Levi said.

He sure had. He slowly drove the bike up and down the asphalt in front of the road bikes, testing the steering, the suspension, the alignment. It felt okay. The bike had only hit a portion of the SUV, and he tried to remember if he’d purposely tried to lay it down, but anything after the impact was still a blur. He rolled back to Levi, standing with his feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m going over to talk to Callie,” Grady said. “I’ll be back at the compound later. I’ll pay you back.”

Levi nodded. “You think about what I told you, too. I need to know. I know you wanted to take some time off, but I think it’s more than that. You got some thinking to do.”

Grady nodded. He didn’t want to deal with all that right now. He couldn’t. First things first. He needed to see Callie. They had their own issues to hash out. Then he’d return to the compound, eventually. It wasn’t like Levi was asking Grady to make a snap decision, but deep inside, he knew Levi was right. Either the club could depend on him as their Sergeant at Arms or they couldn’t. He couldn’t split his time between the two, at least not at this point, not with things coming to a head with the Jokers, and there was no way in hell he could ask Callie to give up her house—hell, give up her life—and move into a crappy cabin with him. Both were his life, both were his family, and Grady had no fucking idea how he could choose. And in the process, he was screwing over everyone he ever gave a damn about.

He shifted into first and gave Levi one last nod. “Thanks for picking me up. I’ll see you later.”

Without waiting for Levi to respond, he slowly drove out of the impound lot, taking the driveway easy, not wanting a repeat of the pain he’d experienced when Levi had taken the hospital driveway so quickly. Then again, he deserved that too, and more.