It's nearly daybreak by the time I park in front of my house and flip off the ignition. I'm tired. So incredibly tired, my bones ache. Climbing out of the SUV, I shuffle toward the front door and slowly climb the steps.

Reaching out, I'm about to twist the doorknob when the door swings open in front of me. Denver's large frame blocks the entrance.

"Den?" I ask, confusion in my voice. "It's nearly five in the morning."

My brother blows out a deep breath, his hand raking across his face as he stares at me. "Get inside." He steps out of the way and lets me pass, his strong arm linking around my neck and squeezing my head into his bicep. "You okay?" His voice is low and gruff and although he's almost choking me, I also know it's his way of showing affection.

I collapse on the couch in the living room, and Denver sits in a chair to my right.

"I messed everything up."

"Get some sleep." My brother tosses a pillow at me. "We can sort it in the morning."

I shake my head. "I don't think I can fix this."

"It's going to be okay, Carter."

"What if it's not?" I look at him, suddenly petrified that I ruined the only good thing I ever almost had. That I'll never get another chance. That this was it, and I ripped it apart, ripped her apart, just like I do to every good thing that crosses my path.

Den stares at me, his fingers steepled in front of his mouth. For a moment, he looks like he did on the morning of our mother's funeral—at a complete loss of what to do with the rest of us, but knowing he had to do something. At first he tried, I mean he really tried. But the allure of our father, the pull of what the MC life promised, was too great, and he was sucked away from us. And even though he's made his way back and redeemed himself a million times over, he still sits and looks at me like he's cost me everything.

Like all of my sins are somehow on him, not because I make poor decisions that compromise the lives of the people I care for the most.

"It will be." Denver's voice is firm and confident as he nods toward my pillow. "Close your eyes," he commands. Kicking back in his chair, he stacks his feet on the coffee table and folds his hands over his stomach.

I shift back on the couch, tucking the pillow under my head and close my eyes. Sleep lures me in, my mind grateful for the distraction and my body spent. Still, the only thing I see in my dreams is golden hair and deep blue eyes. Is a girl too beautiful to be real? Is a girl too hurt to be mine?

Taylor should never forgive me.

If I really love her, I should want more for her. Better.

I should let her go.

When I wake the next morning, I feel hungover, even though I didn't drink any alcohol. My stomach is queasy, my head pounding, and my mouth full of cotton.

"You look like shit," Daisy comments from the chair Denver fell asleep in last night. She's flipping through a magazine, pretending to read, but every so often, her eyes stray to where I lay, wishing sleep would come back.

"I feel like shit."

"Den's making breakfast."

"Coffee?"

"That too."

"'Kay."

I hear the magazine snap shut and the soft thud as Daisy tosses it onto the coffee table.

"Stop being so loud."

"How hungover are you?"

"I didn't drink anything."

Daisy laughs until she realizes I'm serious. Then she's perched next to me on the floor, the back of her hand resting against my forehead. "You don't have a fever. Do you feel sick?"

"I ruined everything. I just needed—" Damn it. The money transfer. I jolt up, scaring the crap out of my sister who falls back on her heels, sitting in the small space between the couch and the coffee table. "I need my laptop. Where is it?"

She scrambles to her feet, shooting me a worried look, and ducks into the kitchen. I hear her and Denver exchange a few words, although I can't make out what they are.

Daisy hands me my laptop, and I open it quickly, my knee bouncing up and down while it connects to the internet. As soon as I'm online, I open the browser and sign into my account. There, next to my account number, is the balance: $61,673.29.

"Woah," Daisy whispers behind me. "Denver!" she calls out but I ignore her.

Picking up my phone, I dial Griller directly.

"Three hours 'til I call Joe," he answers.

"Stay the fuck away from Taylor’s family," I warn, my tone cold.

He laughs, enjoying this and goading me further. "Or what?"

"Fuck off, Griller. I got your money."

A few seconds of silence pass.

Denver's frame shadows the entryway from the kitchen to the living room. He sneers at the mention of Griller's name and strides next to me, sitting on the edge of the coffee table. He holds his hand out to take the phone, but I shake my head, holding up one finger.

"Fifty grand?" Griller finally asks.

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Today. Now."

"Cash?"

"Just gotta run to the bank. But when I give you the cash, that's it. You stay the hell away from Joe Clarke. You stay the hell away from Taylor. Don't ever let her name cross your lips again. And you don’t go near my sister. You see her on the street; you cross and go the other way. Feel me?"

Daisy gasps when I mention her, and her eyes dart between Denver and me. Denver takes on an ashen look, his dark eyes turning to black coal at the mention of Griller and Daisy in the same conversation.

"Yeah, yeah. I hear you, Kane," Griller agrees nonchalantly.

"I'm fucking serious."

"Same. Meet me at Raf's in three hours. Bring the cash, and I'll call off the guys watching your girl and her daddy." He clicks off.

My stomach drops to my feet at the thought of slimy thugs having eyes on Taylor. I need to get this shit wrapped up and done now. I need to make sure Taylor's safe.

"Daisy," I say, turning toward my sister. "I need a favor."

"No." She shakes her head, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "I'm not going to be sent on some little errand, so you and Den can call in Jax and have some type of family meeting to figure out whatever the hell is going on without me. I'm here, this involves me, so tell me what's going on." She stands her ground, and I can't help but be proud of the woman she's grown into. For years, when Den was in lock-up and Jax was deployed, it was just Daisy and me. I'm almost relieved to see her assertiveness, even when it's directed at me.

"This isn't a little errand. I’m gonna be honest with you. But this is serious. I need you to check on Taylor and make sure she's okay. You can even call her, just do it from your number."

Daisy's eyes narrow. "Why don't you call her?"

"Because she's not speaking to me."

"Is she in danger?"

“Possibly.”

"Give me her number."

I hand Daisy my phone and watch as she punches Taylor's number into her cell. She shoots me a look I can't read and disappears into the kitchen, holding the phone against her ear as it starts to ring.

"What the hell, man?" Denver asks in a low voice. "Griller? How do you even—"

"Dad."

"What?"

I hang my head, blowing out a stream of breath. "We got a lot of shit to sort out and a short amount of time to do it. I need you to listen to what I'm going to say and hold your questions 'til later."

Denver studies me for a brief moment before nodding.

"I'm going to take a quick shower and meet you in the kitchen. Get Jax on the line."

Daisy waltzes back into the living room and pins me with a stare that is both disappointed and sympathetic.

"Is she okay?" I ask, trying to remain composed.

"She's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"She's really nice."

I give a curt nod, pushing from the couch and heading toward the stairs.

"You better fix whatever the hell you did," my sister says behind me.

I take the stairs two at a time and slam the bathroom door closed behind me.

Ten minutes later, I step into the kitchen feeling much better. It's amazing what a shower can do sometimes. Denver is leaning against the butcher block island, chatting on FaceTime with Jax. My sister sits on a barstool, eating the scrambled eggs and toast Den fixed for her.

"Hey," I say, sliding onto the barstool next to her.

Denver repositions his phone, so Jax can see all of us.

"Carter," Jax says to me in greeting. Next to him, Evie pushes her way onto the screen and stares at me, her eyes full of empathy. So Evie.

"You okay, Carter?" she asks, softly as my brother rolls his eyes.

I nod.

"What's going on, man?" Denver asks, tossing me a piece of toast with butter and strawberry jam.

I blow out a deep breath. "Let me tell you everything before you lay into me, yeah?"

Everyone nods. Daisy's hand snakes around my back and gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze in solidarity.

Then I drop the bomb. "I've been doing shit for the Devil's Shadows for years now. I'm still in contact with Dad."

“What the hell do you mean?” Jax.

“You’ve been talking to Dad?” Denver.

“For how long?” Daisy.

“What kind of shit?” Jax again.

“Everyone, stop. Let him talk. Give him a chance to explain.” Evie’s voice is quiet but steady and the calmness infused in her tone causes everyone to pause for a beat.

I offer her a grateful smile through the phone screen. “I’m sorry.” I say to my siblings. “I know this is a lot to process and it’s fucked up, but I didn’t want to hurt you guys.” My eyes cut to Denver when I say this and the ashen expression on his face causes guilt to bloom in my stomach. Once upon a time Den was Dad’s golden boy. He thought, truly believed, that he took the pressure off the rest of us by doing Dad’s bidding. Even going to jail because of it. I know on some level, my involvement with Dad, with the Devil’s Shadows, hits Denver like a betrayal and I hate that.

“Start at the beginning.” Evie urges quietly.

I nod, flashing her another look of thanks. Taking a deep breath, I delve in. “After Mom passed, Dad started spending all his time with the Shadows, getting wrapped up in the MC life.”

My siblings all nod as I make eye contact with each of them. Denver’s jaw is tight, his pulse ticking. Daisy’s eyes are wide with worry. Jax is pulling on the back of his neck the way he does when he’s agitated. Only Evie looks at me calmly, her quiet strength encouraging me to continue.

“We all wanted to keep Daisy safe, out of the MC lifestyle, and provide her with as much normalcy as possible, considering she was growing up essentially without parents. Dad started coming around, pulling Denver into the Shadow’s fold and for a while, that worked. Denver liked belonging to the club life and Jax and I were able to keep Daisy out of it. Except after the shit went down with Dad and Den,” I pause, my eyes cutting to Denver as he looks away. No one actually knows what went down between Dad and Den. Just that it was awful. More than awful. It meant Denver went away to prison for two years and afterward, he barely mentioned Dad’s name again. “After that, once Den got locked up, Dad started coming around again. By then, Jax had enlisted and it was really just Daisy and me. Griller and the guys kept showing up, making threats, saying how they wanted to see Daisy.”

Jax inhales sharply at this, Denver swears, and Daisy’s eyes well with tears.

“I told them to back off. Started missing work, back then I was doing construction, but I kept getting calls from Griller’s guys about what Daisy was wearing as she walked home from school, how she did at cheerleading tryouts, and I kept trying to be everywhere at once. It wasn’t sustainable. So one day, I get a call from Dad. He says I could help out the MC, do some odd jobs for them around town, and in return, they’d back off Daisy. The money was a hell of a lot better than what I was earning and at the time, it seemed like a good idea. I mostly ran underground boxing matches and illegal poker games but sometimes I did other things, cons, pushing drugs, running numbers, whatever the hell they asked me to do. In return, Daisy stayed safe and off their radar. And I got paid.”

“My tuition.” Daisy says quietly.

I nod, not able to meet her eyes as a quiet sob works its way out of her mouth.

“I still can’t believe you lied and told us she got a scholarship.” Jax says angrily, eerily reminiscent of another conversation we had a few months back when the truth about Evie came to light.

“I know.” I shrug, knowing I lied to my siblings.

“Why’re you telling us now? What changed?” Denver asks, his voice hard and cold.

“I got out.”

“When?” Jax asks.

“A few months ago. After Daisy graduated and everything came out about Evie. I had one last job. Get a guy, a business guru, with a gambling addiction, to step up to one of the underground poker games.”

“And?” Jax prods.

“I did it.”

“So?” Den asks.

“Turns out it was Taylor’s father.”

“Fuck.” Both of my brother’s say in unison while Daisy blanches beside me, her small hand working its way into mine.

I nod. “I had no idea at the time. I didn’t even realize it until I helped Taylor move back to her townhouse. I was about to pull out of her complex when I saw him. I never even knew his name other than calling him Joe. But the moment I saw him, I put two and two together. And then Dad called.”

“Of course.” Denver’s voice is dry.

“Told me the terms changed. Griller needs fifty grand in twenty-four hours or something, something bad,” my eyes dart to Daisy, “would happen to Joe Clarke.”

“So what did you do?” Daisy asks, her cheeks wet with tears.

“Something awful.”

“What?” Jax asks, sharply.

“I sold a piece of mom’s jewelry.” I watch Daisy as I say this. “I was saving it for you. For your wedding day. And I’m sorry, Dais. I’m really fucking sorry but –”

“It’s okay, Carter. Please, I’d rather Taylor’s dad not end up dead when you had the means to help him. I mean after everything…” she trails off, her voice soft.

“The stone that changed colors?” Jax asks, his eyes squinting as if recalling the alexandrite.

I nod. “You remember that?”

“Yeah. I figured Dad got ahold of it.”

“No. I’ve had it all this time, saving it for Daisy.”

“Or for a desperate situation.” Jax adds.

“I felt like this was one of those. But I still shouldn’t have done that, sold something of mom’s without asking y’all.”

Jax tugs on the back of his neck again. Denver looks away, his jaw clenched, his eyes hard. Daisy envelops me in a hug.

“It’s okay, Carter. Really. You’ve kept our family together on your own for a really long time. No one is going to question anything you did to try and right some wrongs you made along the way.”

“She’s right, man.” Jax says after a long silence.

Denver nods sharply but still avoids making eye contact with me.

I let out a long sigh, suddenly exhausted. “The whole thing is fucked up.” I admit.

“Everything with Dad is.” Denver adds.

Jax and Daisy nod.

And a strange understanding passes over the Kane household. One where we all know we’re in everything together, but we also acknowledge that there are still a lot of secrets, a lot from the past, that we may never fully understand.