“Hold him down, dammit! Just don't break his fucking wrists.”

The whole world went red the instant Shelly told me what happened over the phone. I flipped my shit at the Devils' clubhouse, hopped in my truck, and tried to plow right through their gate. The bastards caught up to me when I wouldn't tell them why I was ready to go, why I had to blow town right that fucking instant.

Missy. My Missy.

My woman, losing her fucking mind and heading to Redding alone. Scared. Determined. And definitely no match for Fang, the fuck I swore I'd kill with my own bare hands.

He was gonna die, that much was sure, long before we even headed up to Devils' territory. But now the only question was whether I'd get my hands on his fat neck before he seriously fucked up my old lady.

It took all three senior officers in their club to drag me back inside. I was about to ram my truck right through their fucking gate, but they were quick. Shot out my tires and ran to my door, ripping it open, pulling me out, throwing me to the ground.

I fought them all, kicking and screaming like a mad man. Even colossal Tank strained to hold me down, pushing me to the ground with all his might, snarling like a wolverine as he kneed me in the spine and grabbed at my hands.

Fuck. The asshole finally managed to get a strong hold on me and I couldn't move. Stinger and one-eyed Moose stepped away cautiously, leaving me face-to-face with Blaze. The Devils' Prez grabbed me by the forehead and turned my head up, forcing me to look at him.

“Saffron just spilled the fucking beans,” he growled. “My old lady got her goddamned truck jacked by yours, but you don't see me going nuclear. Damn it, boy, settle the fuck down.”

My muscles were shaking. I forced myself to relax – the only damned way I was getting out of this. Blaze looked me up and down, then nodded to Tank, who gave a reluctant grunt and released me.

I stood up, brushing the dirt off my cut. All four Devils looked like they wanted to cut my ass to pieces every time they saw my colors on their home turf. Too fucking bad, because this wasn't coming off except when I stripped down and showered, or fucked my girl senseless.

And now, because I hadn't stayed with her, I might never get to fuck her again. Fuck!

I spun and clocked Tank right in the jaw. The giant's head snapped back, and I pushed through them before any of the others could grab me, heading for my truck's open door.

“Jesus Christ!” Blaze roared. “After his stupid ass!”

I had one foot in the driver's seat before Tank caught up to me. I knew I was screwed before the giant's fist found the back of my skull.

One deafening blow and the blackness swallowed me, turning everything jagged and red to smooth, dark shadows.

* * *

“Brass.” Someone snapped his fingers next to my ear. “Wake your ass up!”

“Blaze...” A woman's voice said

I opened my eyes and saw him standing over me. At his side, some blondie in scrubs, probably the one named Emma I'd heard about. She was Tank's old lady and the club medic. Behind her, standing against the wall, there was a dark haired beauty and my sis.

They looked at me like I was a fucking ghost. I sat up, and instantly felt the straps binding my arms.

“Hey! What the fuck!?”

This was not what I needed. Shit, how many precious hours had I lost being laid out here in their infirmary? All while that sick sonofabitch had my girl at the clubhouse, doing God knows what?

“We'll let you go when we know you can be a good boy,” Tank growled behind me, out of my line of vision. “You want me to give him the medicine, boss?”

Blaze nodded. Something strong in a glass pushed its way to my lips and I fucking choked. Tank held my mouth shut like a dog, making me swallow it. I thrashed, thinking I'd been poisoned.

No, not poison. It was just Jack. Sweet, smooth, strong whiskey, something I thought I might never taste again.

“Fuck,” I grunted between my teeth.

“We're giving you a shot to calm your ass down,” Blaze said. “We're damned lucky Blackjack's a chiller dude than you. I gave him a call, and he's gonna work like hell to get your girl away from Fang. We're all on the same page, so you can stop worrying we're gonna hold you down and slit your throat. Tempting as that would be.”

“Get her away? Fuck, you need to stop her, Blaze. Tell Blackjack to sit by the highway, make her pull over before she gets into town...”

Stinger stepped up next to Blaze and grinned. “You've been out all fucking day, asshole. One of your brothers down there saw her drive in, but he couldn't do shit about it by himself. It was too late to stop her from rolling right into the bear's den.”

His harsh words almost set me off again. Almost. The whiskey definitely helped soothe the radioactive fire bristling in my blood, throbbing in my chest, ready to beat its way out of me.

Save it, you fucking fool, I told myself. Save it for the fucks who really deserve it. Not these Prairie Pussies.

“Just let me up,” I said, resisting the urge to bolt up and punch every one of those fucks in their smug jaws the instant I could.

Blondie looked at Blaze. “I think it's time. We can't keep him strapped down here forever, Blaze.”

The Devils' Prez looked down at me and nodded. Tank hovered over me, undoing the straps on my arms.

“You're a prick, but you gave as good as you got, Brass. Good hook. Hard fist. I can respect that shit.” The giant motioned to the bruise I'd left on his face.

I grunted, halfway amused. He was right there to knock me out again if I did anything stupid. I sat up, fighting to let go of the anger. I looked at Blaze.

“They've got my old lady. We need to ride tonight.”

“Already working on it. You think I've been standing here jacking off while you were dreaming?” Cocky as ever, he gave me a fierce wink. “Unfortunately, there's no chance in hell we'll have time to pick up any guys from Dakota to help us out. It's just us, plus all the men you've got playing freedom fighter in Redding.”

My heart tightened. Steep odds. Blackjack told me about a third of the local guys deserted after our mutiny, but Fang still had numbers on his side. Possibly huge fucking numbers if the charters all along the west coast decided to stay loyal and send in reinforcements.

Whatever. Shit odds were nothing new to me. Having a woman on the line was, and not just any, but the one I cared for more than anything else in this fucked up world.

I slid off the table, standing. “When do we leave?”

“A couple more hours. Just need to get a few more things ready,” Blaze said. “You'll ride with Stinger and Moose. Gotta make sure you've worked all that piss outta your system, and you're not gonna do anything stupid.”

That was fair. Didn't change the fact that they were fuckers. I nodded.

Blaze stepped out, giving Shelly a quick hug and a kiss on his way out. The other guys hung back, tucking into their old ladies. Seeing Tank press the tiny blonde into his immense frame and plant his lips on her made lava seethe in my veins.

Then I saw Stinger, his arms wrapped around the dark haired girl, whispering to her. “I promise I'll be back before you know it, baby. Stay sexy and help Saffron with the girl while we're gone. Love you, Alice.”

“You know I will,” she purred.

They kissed. Fuck. Panic burbled deep in my brain, the horrible possibility I might never see my girl again. Let alone hold her like that, suck her bottom lip, whisper all the thousands of sweet and filthy words pent up in my head.

No. She's coming home in one piece. Same beautiful package I'd rip my fucking heart out for.

You can't fucking lose her like you've already lost your mind.

Hold on, babe. Your old man's coming.

“Brass.” Shelly grabbed me on my way out. “Bring everybody home safe, and that means you too.”

I managed a thin smile. “Thanks, sis. Uh, sorry about the truck. I hope like fuck nothing's happened to it. I'll bring it home too, if I can.”

“You know I don't give a shit about the wheels. It's just one more thing to deal with.” She rolled her eyes. “The girl was upset. Crazy. I haven't even told her little sister yet...”

“You work on that,” I said. “With any luck, I'll have her home with your ride so you don't have to tell Jackie how fucked up things are. She's been through too fucking much for a fourteen year old.”

“I know.” She looked at the ground sadly. “And I remember what it was like for us at that age. You've got to be honest to keep them from going off the rails. Mom tried to hide how bad off she was until it drove you away and locked me down.”

“Yeah.” There was nothing more to say about it. She'd forgiven me for falling in with the fucks who'd slaughtered our disabled mother. The guilt still weighed heavy on my black heart, and saying shit about the bitter past would only feed it.

“You turned yourself around, Brass,” she said, throwing her arms around me. “I'm so damned proud of you for that. I know you can fix this too. Go get the bastards who did this.”

Yes. Fuck yes. I couldn't do anything less than tear their throats out like the angry wolf I was, but this only sealed the deal.

I pressed her tight to my chest and then I was gone, following the Devils out to the garages. The guns just needed to be loaded into their rides, waiting for the battle to come.

* * *

My bones ached on the trip down, and not just from the fight. Crossing a good quarter of the continent in a week without much rest took its toll. Fuck if I was gonna let it slow me down.

I was wide awake. The pain stiffened my resolve. The Devils and I didn't say much to each other – they understood what was on the line, and that was enough. The men glowered, half as intense as me, big bearded Moose looking into the darkness like a one-eyed viking sailing toward Valhalla.

We took turns driving, following the convoy of bikes all the way to Redding. We finally veered off toward a remote spot near Shasta Lake, just north of town. Blackjack and the boys were using an old lake cabin as a base.

Everybody took a breather for a few minutes after the long drive, and then filed in. Shit, and here I thought the tension between the Devils and I was thick. In the little makeshift cabin, it was fucking suffocating.

Devils and Grizzlies eyeballed each other like warriors from separate worlds. One wrong move was all it'd take to make bullets or knives start flying, murdering the uneasy alliance we both needed.

Rabid came up and slapped my back. “Welcome home, brother. I'm sorry as shit I couldn't get her out in time like Christa back there.”

He pointed to the little bedroom. Fucking typical Rabid. If there was any pretty redhead who needed comforting, he was always the man for the job. Though I wasn't so sure how pretty she'd be after the brutal number Fang and his crew did on her.

“There's still time,” I growled. “It's not over 'til Missy's outta that fucking dump and we've turned this club around for good.”

A loud whistle silenced us before we could say anything else. Blackjack and Blaze were gathered at the little wooden table. All twenty guys from the two clubs coalesced in a circle.

“Make a little room for Brass,” Blackjack growled. “He needs to see this.”

Fuck. See what?

I pushed my way through a couple big Grizzlies, taking my place next to the de facto Prez. Blackjack was holding a phone, his dark eyes glued to the screen.

“Sorry, son. This just came in a few minutes ago.”

He held it up for everyone to see, especially me.

They had Missy in the dank fucking storage room, parked on the same rickety chair where they'd tortured Christa. Fang was behind her, his sharp knife with the custom bear claw handle at her throat.

Don't fucking do it, don't fucking do it, don't...

My vision started to blur to red again. My fists shook at my sides. For a second, it felt like the whole fucking universe was compressing into a tiny hot ball around me.

Smaller, darker, and deader. My soul prepared to rocket outta my body and swing straight down to hell, screaming and killing anything that got in its way.

The knife fell back. Not even a trickle of blood on her throat.

Thank God.

“You know the drill by now, assholes.” Fang's voice was more irritated than I'd ever heard it. “Different girl. Same terms. Except you've just cut your remaining time in half. You're down to five hours to comply. I expect the tape, the confession, and the rats by o-sixteen-hundred or I'll be carving two pieces off this cunt for being so troublesome. Starting with those pretty tits.”

The video went blank, but not before I had a perfect shot of Missy's face. She looked eerily calm, numb, like her heart and mind had shut down to survive the world of pain coming her way.

He was fucking hurting her, even if he hadn't laid a scratch on her yet. My fists burned, hungry to punch, choke, break, and kill.

Just seeing Fang's rotten carcass wasn't enough for me anymore. I had to beat everybody else to the punch and kill him myself, or I'd never sleep again. Fuck.

“Brass?” Blackjack, Blaze, and half the room stared at me.

I swallowed my rage, saving it for later, nursing the swollen fireball in my stomach. “What's the plan?”

“Direct assault,” Blaze pipped up. “It's the only fucking way. We gotta go for their throat, quick as we can, and hope we tear it out before we got a hundred fucking bears nipping at our legs.”

Angry eyes fixed on the Devils' President. “No offense,” he added, diffusing tensions by half a degree. “Tank?”

“No disagreement, boss. We don't have too many options, and waiting sure as fuck won't help.”

“Wait.” Everybody looked at me, but I didn't meet their eyes.

I was too busy staring through the small crowd, back towards the sad redhead in the bedroom. The door was open, and she was standing. Her back was turned to us and she was gazing out the window.

“We know the video wasn't full proof,” I said. “Fang's guaranteed to have numbers on his side. Doubt half the charters believed it, especially since it came from the Devils.”

“I don't see where you're going with this,” Blackjack said, furrowing his brow. “What the fuck, Brass?”

I walked around the table and leaned into his ear. “Step in the back with me. I want her to hear it too.”

Blaze followed, and I didn't stop him. He had every right to know what the fuck was up with his men on the line and two Grizzlies whispering to each other.

The other men waited while we stepped into the room and closed the door behind us. Christa turned around. Her face was bad, scratched and puffy as shit. She'd been a pretty girl, and our former brothers had definitely fucked her up.

Almost felt guilty for the shit I was about to propose, but it was the only thing that might save all our asses from getting slaughtered, plus Missy too.

“Brass? What the fuck is this?” Blaze was getting impatient.

I spilled it. Both their jaws hit the fucking floor when I laid it out. Christa listened silently.

When I was finished, Blaze spun, slammed his fists on the wall. He turned back to face me, shaking his head. “You're outta your fucking mind. I know it's your old lady and nobody can think right when something like that's on the line. But, fuck, man, you're asking us to take one helluva risk with some chick who's already been through the grinder.”

“I've got to agree with Blaze,” Blackjack said. “This is...”

His face tightened. Fucking nuts, he was about to say, or something like it. He hesitated, trying to soften the blow for my sake.

“Sorry, Brass,” he said. “Direct assault's the only way to clean this mess up and get your girl out. You know it.”

“Stop,” Christa spoke, soft but determined. “I'll do it.”

* * *

A couple hours later, everything was ready. Less than three hours to spare before the demon in our clubhouse started laying into my woman. Just enough time.

Blackjack had every copy of the tape the Devils brought, and all the men were ready to ride.

Rabid was still milling around the beat up redhead. I walked over, more than a little nervous he was about to talk some sense into her. Fuck, I couldn't force her to do shit if she pulled out, but if she did...we'd be fucked so bad there was nothing left to do but ride into a massacre.

“You're sure you wanna do this?” Rabid watched her nod as I approached. “Fuck. You're a brave, brave girl. I'm gonna be right there with you, baby. No fucking way am I gonna let anybody drag you back where you don't belong. Those fucks will never get their paws on you again.”

I laid a hand on his shoulder. “Where is it?”

Rabid looked at me, smiled and pointed at the Harley several feet away. “She's all there. Got her out right in the nick of time, before Fang and company stole her, right before everything went to shit at the warehouse.”

“Thank fuck. I'd have to skin all their greedy asses for sitting on my baby.”

Rabid stayed with the redhead while I walked to my bike. Jesus, it had only been about a week, but it felt like half a fucking lifetime. The only thing sweeter than sliding onto my Harley again would be having Missy in my arms, and I was dead set on it.

I swore to heaven and hell I'd put everything in my life back where it belonged.

I couldn't wait to get my woman back, even more than I wanted to put a bullet in Fang's head for what he'd done. Love's a powerful fucking thing when it tames rage, tames hate, and everything else in between. There was a lot to snarl at in all this, but mostly, I just wanted her home.

She'd never get off my bike or outta my bed after this. Never. The first thing I was gonna do when I had her again was squeeze her so fucking tight she'd never dream about walking into harm's way for the rest of her life. Later, I'd spank her pretty ass raw for doing this.

What I really missed was those lips. Their taste, their softness, their sweet flutter on mine like honest-to-fuck pixie wings.

I'd been too soft, too distracted with club business. The realization hit me right between the eyes like a hot sword boring into my skull. Now, my entire soul bled for her, bled dirty red blood from a scalding wound that wouldn't close 'til I had what was mine pressed up against me again.

There was no other cure. Nothing else would undo the damage I'd taken, my failure to keep what was mine close as my own gun.

“Two hours!” Blackjack's voice howled near the front of the column. “Let's fucking go, boys.”

A dozen engines growled, igniting as one, joined by a few stragglers at the end. I strapped on my helmet and felt the comforting purr of my Harley beneath me. She'd always been a fine war horse, and now I needed her to carry me to my girl.

Blackjack pulled out first. We all hit the highway and rode down toward Redding. I was near the front with Rabid and the redhead on his bike, only separated by Blackjack and Blaze by Tank. It was a weird, motley platoon of sworn enemies riding toward hell, joined together in a fucked up marriage all about saving all the asses in the leather seats today. Motorcycles rumbled behind me, at least ten of them, and then a couple trucks from both clubs bringing up the rear.

Blackjack agreed to meet Fang near a hilly wilderness outside town. We'd promised him everything, but we knew he'd be on alert for us fucking him over. Hoped like hell the ruse I had planned would be such a shock he wouldn't see it coming.

It all came down to conscience. Fang didn't have one – some devil had ripped it outta him and chewed it up ages ago – but did the rest of the club? We were about to find out.

The column slowed when we roared onto the unpaved road, heading for the forest clearing. They were parked by the trees. Legions waiting for us.

Even my eyes bugged out when I saw how many Grizzlies Fang brought to cover his ass. Fuck, he must've had half the Tacoma and Portland charters, plus more brothers from Idaho. Basically, every able bodied man who wasn't busy getting killed down south by the cartel's raiders.

Shit. There must've been a hundred guys to our fifteen, possibly more, and he was fully surrounded. Protected.

Blaze and Blackjack stopped a few feet away, undaunted by the huge army facing them. I pulled up next to them and Rabid did too. My brother looked nervous as shit, keeping his hands on the redhead 'til she pulled away forcefully.

My eyes scanned the guys next to Fang and Crack. Fuck, they were supposed to do the exchange here!

Where the fuck was she? Where'd he put my girl? My heart forced adrenaline loaded waves into my blood. I shook, sweated, rubbed the nine millimeter in my belt.

Easy, I told myself. They'll see that shit and hit you between the eyes before you take a single step forward if you make a dumb move.

She's gotta be here somewhere. He wouldn't have left her at the clubhouse with nobody there on guard duty.

I counted all the bastards who'd stuck with him from my club. Rough, Gnaw, Pitbull, Chubb...five more prospects past them. No, they were all there. That meant Missy had to be with them, tucked back in the crowd, maybe bound up in one of their fucking trucks.

Blackjack looked at me and nodded. I walked with him and Blaze. Christa moved up several steps behind me. Rabid had to hang back, or else there'd be more guys on the other side coming to meet us besides Fang and Crack.

Nobody wanted that shit. More brothers eyeball-to-eyeball meant more danger.

“What the hell's this?” Fang grunted, stopping in the middle. “I asked for the video, the rats, and a confession. Didn't ask to see this fucking bitch again.”

He spat at the ground. Blaze grabbed the small black package underneath one arm and threw it on the ground.

“Here, asshole. Five copies. There's the master, plus the fucking camera it was shot on. That's everything.”

Fang reached down and picked it up, grinning on his way up. He looked at me, and then at Blackjack.

“Okay. Let's go, boys. We've got a nice trial ready out back with all your brothers. Promise we'll make it quick, just as soon as one of you fucks tells us straight up where that video came from.”

Trial. Right. Never heard the shallow graves he probably had waiting in the woods called that before.

I looked him in the eye and reached for the redhead, grabbing her hand. “I shot that fucking video,” I said loudly, making sure everybody could hear.

“You never ordered the hit. The bastard was just a fucking freak trying to fuck my old lady's little sis. I killed him. I framed you. I fucked up.”

Fang let out an angry laugh. “Damned right you did, kid! Hmmm, I suppose that's confession enough, but I'm still gonna want it on camera before we decide how to end this. Didn't think you'd give it up so easy.”

He licked his lips. Fucker had murder written all over them.

I smiled. “That's because I thought this was all harder and more complicated than it really is. I didn't see all the evidence of the shit you've done right underneath my nose.”

“What fucking evidence?”

I reached behind me and grabbed her, holding her in front of my chest. Christa flinched once, but then stood still, staring at the monster through her swollen eyes.

“This. Take a good, long look, everybody. This is why we turned on national! This is why we'll never follow this motherfucker, as long as he's Prez!” I was screaming.

Crack looked at me in a stupor, and Fang's eyes darkened. Didn't think it was possible for him to beam more hate, but he sure as fuck did. My hands loosened near her belly, holding on tight, ready to throw her down as soon as he let the demon inside him off its chain.

“This is what our Prez does. He rips innocent girls to pieces. He kills anybody who disagrees with that shit, frames 'em as rats. He's too fucking busy fattening his own wallet off the blood this club's spilled to inspire us, and that's exactly why the cartel's running over our bodies. We beat 'em by being better than vermin. Right now, this club's just as brutal. Just as fucked up. Is that what you wanted for the Grizzlies MC when you put on that patch?”

Silence. A long, tense, fiery quiet.

The surprise on Fang's face shrank, slow and vicious, turning into volcanic anger. His hand flew to his hip, surprisingly spry for a man his age. I had exactly one second to throw Christa to the ground and keep her there while he fired.

The gunshot echoed loud over the horizon. I waited for more, holding my breath, wondering if we were all about to die.

“Shit!” Blaze cursed.

I rolled, looked up, and saw the hole in Blackjack's thigh. He hit the ground, clenching his leg, blood pooling between his fingers. Fuck! Fang missed us, and hit the only man worth serving in this fucking club instead.

One 'shit' spoken, and about a thousand more to go. Only way to describe the situation.

Blackjack clenched his leg harder, a sinister smile on his face. Blaze crouched with his gun, and everybody in our crew behind us locked and loaded. I was reaching for my own sidearm, ready to blow Crack's fucking head off.

Except I didn't have to. The bastard's skull exploded before he could draw on me, and it came from behind him.

Fang spun, stunned silence twisting the sneer on his face. The huge throng of Grizzlies serving him had their guns drawn on each other. Another shot exploded. Another guy went down, one of Fang's men.

Total fucking chaos.

The guys who'd decided they didn't want any part of serving the asshole hit the dirt. Some ran toward us, only to be mowed down by the bastards staying loyal. They were brutal fucks, men like Serial, who loved everything Fang did to drive this club into the ground, hungry for more of it to satisfy their sadistic urges.

I struggled to stay down, protecting Christa, but I had to see what the fuck was going on. All that mattered to us was numbers. If enough of them mutinied, especially in this storm, we had a chance.

Looking to my other side, I saw Blackjack keeping focus, pressing both hands tight to his wound. Blaze had his gun trained on Fang, who was high-tailing it back to the guys he had left.

Shit! The Devils' Prez emptied his clip and one hit the bastard in the leg. Fang dropped, grunted, and started to crawl. He was on the ground, roughing his way forward, when several goons ran toward him and picked him up.

Our guys were pouring past me now. Rabid leaned down to me, reaching for the woman's hand.

“Let her go, bro. I got her. Need to get her to the rear.”

I nodded. Good. Now, I was free to go, following the long push toward the woods, where lots of vehicles were abandoned in all the commotion.

“Missy! Missy!” I screamed her name when I got closer, looking all over for anything bigger than a bike, or maybe a pit where they'd thrown her for the exchange.

Nothing. More shots rang out around me, and several brothers wrestled on the ground, Grizzlies and the odd Devil doing close combat.

A dead eyed fuck popped out of the trees and lunged with his dagger drawn. I blew his head off and went forward, forward, heading for the place where I'd seen them dragging Fang.

No fucking way was he getting away alive. Not today.

Someone tugged on the back of my cut. I spun, pressed my gun to his head, and felt my heart stick in my throat when I saw it was Blackjack, struggling to upright.

“Christ! You should've stayed back. What the fuck's going on?”

“Keep going, son,” he growled. “Don't fucking worry about me. I can't rest until I see him dead. We have to find him.”

I nodded. The gunfire was dying down around us, and I was relieved to see mutineers and Devils standing around prisoners, gathering the fucks together who'd thrown down their arms.

Blackjack hung close to me. We walked through the trees, and I cleared a path for him through the brush. Almost tripped on a dead man with a hole through his chest. Shit, it was one of the bastards who'd grabbed Fang. He had to be somewhere.

I heard him before we caught up through the brush. He'd rolled through the weeds toward a shitty little pond, and he was holding his leg, screaming at the asshole who'd gone with him.

“Come on! Keep fucking moving. We can't stop. We've gotta get outta here.”

The man groaned. I saw he was bleeding out from a hole in his stomach, barely even conscious. The soon-to-be-dead Prez was still berating the poor bastard. Suddenly, Fang pulled his gun, pressed it to the man's temple, and fired.

“Fucking useless! All of you! This is what I get for thirty fuckin' years of glory? I made this club. It was all me – me! And now you bastards are tearing it to pieces, turning over like snakes and cowards, ruining everything I gave you...”

I told Blackjack to hang back and pushed through the weeds first. He fired at the weeds I rustled, and a new emotion I'd never seen entered his eyes: fear.

Arctic terror. And it was goddamned beautiful.

Two bullets buried themselves in the mud, dangerously close to my leg. I kept going. His gun was clicking on empty by the time I stood over him.

Blackjack pushed his way to my side, breathing a little heavier than before. Both our guns were trained on him. I got ready to squeeze the trigger first and take flak later. Blackjack deserved the kill almost as much as me, but no fucking way was I letting someone else hand Fang his one way ticket to hell.

“Don't!” Fang roared, throwing a hand up, as if he still had a choice. “We can figure something out. Take my patch, drain my money, ship my ass to Alaska...you can't fucking kill me. You know I built this thing from my bare hands, Blackjack. I built you!”

“You built yourself a tower of shit, Fang,” the old man said. “There was a time when we needed a man like you in charge. Not anymore. You spilled too much blood, carved too much flesh. It's no wonder we've got wolves at our gates.”

“You want to live?” I stepped up, pressing my gun to his temple. He nodded, shifting his evil head against my gun. “Then tell me where you've got her. Where's my old lady?”

Fang licked his lips. “There's a van parked about a mile from here. Nobody in it but her, tied up and gagged in the trunk. I was gonna send my guys to get her if you hadn't fucked me over...but I knew you would. I knew it. I keep my fucking word. Always. Do you, Brass?”

I looked at Blackjack. He nodded.

“You do the honors, son.”

“No. But I'm gonna say thanks for being honest just once in your life,” I growled to Fang.

He was shaking. I pulled the gun back, stuck it in my holster, and brought out my knife. Let him feel a second of misplaced relief before I let him see it. The fear in the ex-Prez's eyes swelled, and then it was just a reflection of murder.

I did everything he threatened to do to my girl, piece by fucking piece. Blackjack watched for five grisly minutes before I finally slammed my blade into Fang's skull.

When it was over, I cut away his patch, and threw one arm over the old man, helping him struggle back through the brush.

“Put me down,” he said, as soon as we saw the Devils and our crew again. “They'll take it from here. Go. Go find your woman.”

I didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

I found the worn blue van parked off a little service road, right where the asshole indicated. All my muscles tensed up as I approached the trunk.

A man never knows what he'll find in the back of a car in this world. If the lying bastard hurt her, killed her, then I'd run right back into the woods and dismember his ass all over again. What little was left to slice and dice, anyway. Shit, if he'd lied to me, I'd learn the darkest black magic I could to make sure his soul suffered worse in Satan's care than it already deserved.

I shook my head, pushing away the fucked up thoughts. The glass was dirty and I couldn't see inside. There was no sign of anyone screaming or banging within.

My hand caught the handle and pulled. It was unlocked, and it popped open with a whoosh.

Fuck. There she was. Gagged, red eyed, balled up in the tiny space next to some old oil bottles, her hands and feet bound. But she was alive.

Missy tried to scream through the dirty rag in her mouth when she saw me. I threw myself in, pulling her into my arms, reaching for the same knife I'd just used to send Fang to justice. I cut her bindings first, then sliced carefully past her hair, ripping away the shitty cloth blocking her sweet lips.

“Baby girl.” I said it softly, just as she sucked in a huge breath and started to cry.

I flattened her on my chest, stroking the soft brown hair I was damned lucky to feel once again. I wondered how the hell it always stayed magnificent, sexy, even when she'd just been on a round trip through Hades.

“The asshole's dead. So are all the shits who did this to you. It's over, babe. There's nothing left for you to fear.”

“Brass.” She croaked my name and I helped pivot her face up to mine. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I had to do the right thing. I didn't realize saving her and putting myself on the line would hurt you, hurt Jackie.”

She shuddered. Her face scrunched up and I thought the waterworks were gonna keep flowing, but she caught herself at the last second, drawing in a deep breath.

“I'm a screwed up mess. I thought I was strong, but I cracked in there.” She gestured to the van. “They left me bound up, and then I heard the gunshots...look at me. I'm a fucking mess.”

“Quiet, babe,” I growled, a little more angrily than I intended. She blinked. “It's okay to scream and scratch the ground when some fuck keeps you under the gun. You're doing what comes natural. But I want you to listen real fucking close and get this through your head.”

She tensed up in my arms. I clenched her tighter. No fucking way was I letting her slip away before I drilled it into her pretty skull.

“You're my fucking mess. You're my old lady. I own you, babe, now 'til the last day I'm alive and breathing on this rock. If you think freaking out or showing me you're scared and hurt's gonna drive me away, think again. Open up your head and make sure you're thinking at all, if that's what's running through your sweet head.” I paused, inhaling her delicious scent, pressing my forehead to hers. “I love you, Missy. I don't say that shit easy – I never fucking said it to anyone 'til you came along. Not even Shelly. My love's a wrecking ball and it only swings one way once it gets going. You got it? You're mine, babe, mine to love and only mine, whether you're howling underneath me in bed or walking into mine fields to save some chick.”

When I pulled my face away from her, she was trembling a little, but I knew it wasn't fear. She was fucking overwhelmed. And that was okay. Long as she was full of the same crazy thing I had ticking for her in my chest, I didn't give a damn.

I was about to start walking her back when she pinched her hands around me, feeling me up right there in the forest, raking her nails down my back like she couldn't believe I was real. Fuck me if I didn't get goosebumps singeing my skin while my dick swelled in my dirty pants.

“Babe, we need to get the fuck –“

She flung her face forward, crushing her lips against mine before I could say another word. And I mean really pressed them tight in the hungriest kiss I'd ever had with a chick in my entire life. It sucked all the hot air right outta my lungs, shocked me through my skull, lit my fucking blood on fire.

Then I couldn't think about anything at all except this incredible kiss. My brain knew it was better than sex, though my cock would've protested that with all his might.

We kissed for what felt like an hour out there in the wilderness, the wind blowing small wafts of burned flesh and blood toward us every so often. Shit, the club was gonna be cleaning up this mess for days, hopefully before any badges figured out who left a small battlefield behind.

None of that mattered. It was as distant as the damned moon. I just focused on her taste, her smell, swirling my tongue around hers.

Didn't matter how many times I took what was mine. It never got old, and it never would. She was like a perfect fruit that stayed ripe, waiting for my mouth, waiting for me to own her flesh the best way I knew how.

“I love you, Jordan,” she said, after a small eternity locking lips. “You know I'm not going anywhere as long as you keep giving me chances. I can't promise I won't screw up again...my life's got a lot of work left to straighten it out. And Jackie – God! Where is she?”

I smiled. “Shelly's bringing her down with a rental as soon as we sound the all clear. Should be here tomorrow now that we've cleaned house. The Devils won't be hanging too long. They'll be itching to get home as fast as they can, rather than clean up our fucking mess.”

“Wow. You've really thought of everything, haven't you?” She quirked an eyebrow.

“No way, babe. I've got a lot of shit on my plate. I've still gotta find a place for us to settle down. Maybe book a nice long getaway to Vegas or Reno. We've all got a lot to clear outta our heads. Best way I know how is drinking, fucking, and gambling.” She cocked her head, looking at me like the crazy bastard I was. “All right. We can throw in a mud bath massage thing or two at the spa. Whatever you girls like.”

“Jerk.” She punched my arm playfully, wiping the last salty remnants outta her eyes.

I shrugged, starting to walk her toward my bike. Had to take the furthest loop possible to keep her away from the savage scene left near the woods.

“It's what I do. And I'm gonna keep jerking your sweet ass around, every way that's good for you, as long as you call me your old man.”

“I guess I'd better get used to it,” she mused. “This is what I got myself into. And there's no way I'd ever want out.”

I grinned. Next thing on the list after settling club business was getting her a proper brand. Fuck, she'd look hot as hell wearing my name on her back in leather, and somewhere on her skin to boot.

The whole ride into town, with her wrapped around me, I couldn't believe we'd built ourselves something so real outta playing pretend.

* * *

We were packed in like sardines at the clubhouse. There were so many brothers from all the charters up and down the coast Blackjack had to get the Grizzlies MC table dragged out into the bar, using the main stretch for this mega-church session.

The tension was thick. But it was an anxious, uncertain fog in the air, not the same scared-for-our-lives shit buzzing around under Fang.

I sat at the head of the table next to Blackjack, Rabid, and a couple other guys. The old man lifted the infamous bear claw off the bandage on his thigh, where he'd kept it resting until he was ready.

Everything about this shit was weird. Everything, from the throngs of Grizzlies in front of us, to seeing him with an energy in his eyes like nothing else. Then there was the brand new VP patch on my cut, something I never thought I'd be wearing 'til after I hit thirty.

“Brothers!” Blackjack smashed the bear's foot on the wood.

The commotion started to die down, with the local Prezes helping quiet their men. All their eyes focused on us. Good thing I didn't have any issue being the center of attention.

Wasn't sure I could say the same about Rabid. He looked a little freaked out. But maybe he was just trying to figure out how the fuck he was going to explain going after his new redheaded fixation to his favorite redheaded whore. He kept showing up at Christa's doorstep, ostensibly to keep tabs on her and make sure she stayed quiet after the shit that went down, but it seemed like he was going outta his way to do more than that.

“This is a brand new day for the Grizzlies MC,” Blackjack said, as soon as it was quiet, except for restless boots scraping the floor. “There's no need to sit here on my perch and recount the turmoil we've been through the past few months. Suffering under a tyrant, fighting the cartel off our throats, working with an MC we've spilled blood with...”

Several brothers in the audience growled. I wasn't gonna start loving Prairie Pussies anytime soon, but I didn't feel the old aching need to slam daggers into the backs of the sorry bastards who'd bailed our asses out either.

“Hold onto those memories. Then take your best blade, dig them out of your skull, and set them on fire.” Blackjack paused, letting his words sink in. “They're all done. Nothing but ashes now. Once upon a time, the Grizzlies MC was great. We had the tightest brotherhood from Billings to San Diego. No other club fucked with us west of the Mississippi because they'd get swarmed before they even thought about drawing our blood.”

I looked through the crowd. The tired, worn out men with gray in their hair and beards knew those days. It was no surprise a lot of the old timers had deserted Fang first.

“With me heading national now, we're bringing those days back, brothers. There's plenty of shit ahead left to sort out – rogue charters, Mexican hit men, the cash flow situation – but we'll do it. We always do. The blood of every brother who's fallen for this club flows in your veins. Guard it the same way you guard your colors, and remember what it means. If you do that, boys, you're already halfway there.”

Men stood and applauded. I looked at Blackjack and gave him a stern nod. Had to assert my authority, after all. The man had a gift for gab, though, nobody in the room could deny it.

The meeting was way too big to be anything but a ceremony for crowning the new leadership. The real business would come later, filtering down the charters from border to border, dangerous and glorious as it always was, and always would be with a man in charge who deserved to be called Prez.

A couple minutes later, the bear claw came down with a resounding clack. “Church dismissed. Now, go rock the fucking roof off.”

What would the biggest gathering of the club in years be without a sendoff party? I hung around and had a couple beers, shooting the shit with Rabid and a couple other guys. The whores rolled in about an hour later.

I passed Twinkie in the crowd a couple times, and she gave me a longing look. I turned my back and showed her the bear patch without hesitation. No fucking way was my dick going in any pussy that wasn't attached to my old lady from now on.

No other pussy compared.

Maybe it meant I was growing up, or else I'd just lost my damned mind. Regardless, I was dead set on doing right by my woman and my club. Taking the VP patch seriously meant the days of getting stinking drunk and fucking random sluts was behind me. They faded into smoke, almost as distant and unworldly as the ones I'd lived pushing shit into my veins.

“Brass.”

A hand fell on my shoulder and I turned, setting my empty beer glass on the bar. Blackjack stood behind me, decked out with a few more patches on his old cut.

“I've got something I need to give you, son. Come with me.”

I followed him down the long hall, passing several brothers with girls against the wall, their hands dipping between the bitches' legs. Loud rock drowned out almost all the sound, blasting through the clubhouse's sound system.

We stopped in front of the storage room. I gave him a dark look as he opened the huge door. The thing was slowly turning into a real storage room, changing from the dank and brutal dungeon it had been under Fang.

He walked me back to the end of two new shelves, and then grabbed a big black bag. “Right where I left it. Take it and get the hell out of here.”

It was awfully familiar. Heavy too. I looked inside and did a double take when I saw all the cash stuffed in there.

“What the fuck? This is Missy's old inheritance.” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “I thought this shit belonged to the club's coffers now?”

“Not anymore. A million in cash is what your girls deserve for their pain and suffering through all this.” He reached into his pocket, plucked out a cigarette, and gave it a light. “This club's got to get its sins right. I'd give you the rest, but it's already been deposited and spent, laundered through our legit operations.”

“It's plenty.”

“There'll be more for her if she wants to work the club's books. We need an accountant who can keep her mouth shut. Barrel decided to go down with Fang's ship, and I'm not sure about any other brothers keeping watch,” he said, talking about our old club treasurer. “Fucker had been skimming money off left and right for years. So did Fang. Fat lot of good it did them in the end.”

I nodded. Blackjack looked at me and waved his hand.

“Go on, Brass. Get lost. You deserve a little fun before we come home to our war tomorrow, and I know you won't find it here.”

“Thanks, Prez. You're the fucking best.”

I really meant it. I tucked the money carefully into my saddlebag and rode, fast and hard, taking off to the hotel where I had the girls while we waited to find something more permanent.

* * *

“Is Jackie home?” I asked, as soon as I pushed my way into the kitchen. I tucked the bag in the closet near the door, just out of view.

Missy ran toward me and gave me a kiss. My cock jerked fierce. Damn that woman had a gift for making me jump, no matter how tired or preoccupied I was with other shit. As soon as her lips landed on mine, there was one thing on my mind. It was hard as fuck to put sex on hold, but I needed to do this.

“She's doing homework. Why?”

“Get her in here right now. I got something for you girls. Both of you.”

She gave me an odd look, and then moved to the door joining our two rooms. I'd rented double, knowing we'd be here for at least a week or two.

One knock and the kid opened up. She came out, and both of them sat at the little table in the corner. I ripped the closet open and pulled it out.

It took my girl several seconds to realize what was coming down in front of her. Then her hand trembled, reaching for it cautiously.

“Present from Blackjack. The shit you were owed all along from your dad. It's not everything...but I think you'll agree it's plenty.”

Missy unzipped it and pushed her hands through crisp, fat stacks of cash. Jackie let out a squeal and jumped out of her chair, looking like she'd just run face first into one of those gawky boys she loved to listen to, signing about broken hearts or some shit.

“Use it wisely, girls, I know you will.”

Missy dropped the two wads of money she was holding back into the bag. It was her turn to freak out, jump into my arms, and wrap her legs around me. Big fucking mistake.

I couldn't resist kissing her hard, all while her little sis laughed and made a face.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You don't even know what this means...”

“Yeah, babe, actually I do,” I said. “Means you're gonna send the kid to college and finish school yourself. Then you're gonna do whatever the fuck you want with that money. It only took a drive through hell to bring it back where it belongs, right?”

“Right,” she agreed, pushing her smiling face into mine.

We'd spilled a lot of blood and suffered to turn everything upside down rightside up again. And now, it was all worth it, clear as the sun and laughter lighting up the room.