Chaser and I rode across the rocky deserts of Nevada, into California, past Death Valley, and down to the I-15.

We stopped for gas at a little shack in the middle of nowhere and called Gasket to let him know we were incoming. My gaze was constantly over my shoulder, but nothing appeared. Nothing ominous, anyway. We kept our heads down, stuck to the speed limit, and did our best to be inconspicuous as two Harley Davidson motorcycles would allow. It seemed we were in the clear…for now.

It was late afternoon by the time we rolled into the Fortitude compound. Gasket was waiting for us in the garage, and the roller door rose as we turned into the driveway. Driving into the safety of the shop, our engines fell into silence as he closed us inside.

Jumping off my bike, I smacked my ass, trying to get the feeling back into both cheeks. Luckily, I had taut thigh muscles from all that leg spreading with Chaser. Otherwise, I would have been sore for days after that marathon. Finally, I patted my windblown cheeks and hoped someone had left some moisturizer behind because something told me a bunch of burly bikers wasn’t that interested in skin care.

“I led them right to you,” Gasket said, looking pissed. “If I’d known, I would never have come out there.”

“Shit happens,” Chaser replied, shucking off his duffel bag. “You didn’t know. We got out, so there’s no use getting pissed about it.”

“Bested by Rocket.” Gasket scratched his beard, looking sheepish. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

I let my own bag fall to the floor and rolled my shoulders. “We’re not exactly on Spring Break. This whole thing has been one mess up after the next. I’m a wanted criminal, so a shootout is nothing.” Gasket opened his mouth, and I held up a hand. “Nuh-uh, don’t even say it. Believe me, I know.”

“I was going to say nice motorcycle, kid.”

“Nice save.” I winked.

“Let’s talk about this later,” Chaser stated. “We’ve gotta clean up, but we can’t hole up here forever.”

“The renegades are working with those Hollow Men fuckers,” Gasket drawled. “Your fight is our fight now. Those assholes made it personal.”

My stomach growled, breaking the rising anger in the garage, and I slapped a hand over my gut.

“You want something to eat, kid?” Gasket asked, glancing at Chaser. “We’ve got a new cook.”

Chaser’s expression contorted into annoyance, and he began walking toward the compound.

“Where are you going?” the old biker called out.

“I owe Monroe a punch in the face,” Chaser replied, not breaking stride.

Gasket raised his eyebrows, looking at me expectantly.

“He gave us useless information in exchange for all this,” I explained. “A black eye is the least of that guy’s worries.”

“Well, he better not hit him too hard because the old fucker makes a mean gumbo.”

“Is that all you can think of?” I retorted as we followed Chaser inside.

Gasket took the duffel bags and threw them over his shoulder. “As I see it, Monroe is a washed-up old man, whose life was one step away from bankruptcy. Can’t blame him for wanting to cash in rather than end up sleeping under a bridge someplace. Maybe he really did believe his information was good, or maybe he played Chaser from the beginning. Either way, he’s going to fit right in around here.”

The compound was rather empty as we made our way to the kitchens. With half the club gone and the women and kids off in San Francisco, it was deathly quiet. Not the greatest choice of words, but the closer we go to our destination, the noisier it became.

“I swear, I thought it was good!” an unknown voice shouted.

I glanced at Gasket as we stepped into the kitchen, but the old biker was grinning at the scene before us.

Chaser had a pudgy African-American man up against the wall, his hands fisted into a greasy apron that covered a sizeable potbelly. I assumed this was the mysterious Monroe. I sniffed the air and let out a humph. Something was cooking, and it smelled really good.

“Nothing like a little tussle to grease the wheels,” Gasket said in amusement.

“I don’t appreciate being played,” Chaser said, snarling. “Especially when the life of the women I fucking love is at stake.”

Gasket threw me a look. “He said that?”

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” I replied. “You really going to let Chaser punch the guy?”

Gasket shrugged. “Men like to work things out with their fists.”

I rolled my eyes and strode forward. I’d seen enough violence to last me a lifetime, a great deal of it happening that morning. Monroe looked as threatening as a kitten in a basket of cotton buds.

“Chaser,” I said, standing beside the two men. “Let him go.”

Chaser’s lip curled.

“Don’t be a bully,” I said with a pout. “Because if this guy screws with us again, I’ll blow his balls off with a shotgun.” I directed my gaze to Monroe, who began shaking like a leaf. “I’m Sloane, by the way. Aka, the woman he loves.”

Behind us, Gasket started to laugh, the sound echoing around the kitchen. “She’ll do it, you know.”

I slapped my hand on Chaser’s shoulder. “The guy’s been sufficiently scared to hell and back. You can let him go now.”

He glanced at me and let Monroe go, taking a few steps back.

We stood there in silence for a moment until things began to get a little awkward. The guy sure knew how to keep his mouth shut, which was a good start. The second item on the action list was food.

“So…” I craned my neck to see what was cooking in the pot on the stove. “Where’s this gumbo Gasket wants to marry?”

* * *

I opened the door to my bedroom and breathed in the unfamiliar scent. Why was it that after so long away, a place that had become familiar felt so alien when you went back to it?

Stepping inside, I guessed I was just thankful for a place to rest that didn’t include looking over my shoulder. It had been a long time since I felt completely safe somewhere. It was the ultimate irony that it was the Fortitude compound.

“I never thought I’d be back here,” I said, looking around. “At least, not this soon.”

“We know this place,” Chaser said, sliding his hand over the small of my back. “We can defend it if we need to.”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that.” I turned and curled my fingers into his shirt. “We better take the fight to them.”

“King will be expecting it.”

“I know, but we can’t wait for them to come looking. We won’t win that parade.” All of the Hollow Men’s resources, paired with the Hollow Riders, against forty bikers looking to get on the straight and narrow? Yeah, no chance.

I shook my head at the memory of King’s presence. He’d been overwhelming, controlling, and slightly insane. Killing him would be an honor. Not only that—it would be my civic duty as a member of the female race.

“So,” I went on. “What was that ten days thing? You never got a chance to tell me about it. I’m still curious.”

Chaser shrugged. “It was the plan I was going to follow when I was undercover. Before they…” He coughed and made a face. “I knew things were getting dicey, so I made provisions.”

“You can talk about her, you know,” I said. “All that stuff I said…” I felt my cheeks heat, and I lowered my head. “That was just my insecurities talking. I mean, I’ve never had this before. I was afraid it would never be like…”

“Shh,” he murmured. “We worked that out.”

I nodded. “Shit, I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be.”

I looked up at him and smiled. “When did you get so…soft?”

He made a face and tugged me close. “Don’t say that word out loud.”

“Soft,” I declared. “Soft, soft, soft.”

“I’d rather be hard.”

“Typical.”

Turning, I set my bag on the end of my bed and dusted off the front of my T-shirt.

“You’re very happy,” Chaser declared. “After this morning, I was expecting to have a fight with a wildcat.”

“Ironically, I feel safe here despite the memories.”

“The air is different.” He glanced around, taking in the room.

“Maybe staying here wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” I murmured.

“What about Montana?”

I shrugged. “When I think about the people here, the ones left behind…” I sighed and thought about Gasket. He’d been the father I’d never had, though we hadn’t been close in years. Not until I’d come back with Chaser. After my mom had died, Gasket had become the fun uncle, making sure I was kept away from the violence of the club, had food in my belly, and was safe from wandering hands. The night I ran away, I realized he’d been more of a dad to me than my biological one. It was a shame it had taken such a drastic event for me to realize it, but we were here now.

“Wherever you want to go, I’ll follow,” Chaser murmured. “Montana, LA, fucking Siberia.”

“There’s no way in hell I’m going to Siberia. I hate the constant heat, but that’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

“I was going for remoteness.”

“A shack in the woods would’ve been remote enough.” I began to have visions of rugged mountain men and a lumberjack Chaser throwing me over his shoulder. That wouldn’t be so bad, I thought.

He grinned and sat on the bed, patting the mattress beside him. “Let me tell you about my plan. It’ll have to be revised now the Hollow Riders are a thing.”

I sat next to him, my leg pressing against his, and relished his warmth. I stared at our boots, both laces stained with red dust, and nodded.

“Let’s go out with a bang, huh?”

Chaser grinned and knocked his boot into mine. “I was planning on it.”