I knew Chaser would be gone for a few days, but it alleviated none of my stress.

The entire compound was on tenterhooks after Marini had executed Harley. The garage was alive with talk, not all of it pro-Fortitude, either. It was my chance to sow some seeds of dissent among the ranks, but I hesitated in the wake of what had happened.

I was a fool if I thought I could take the club without someone dying in the process. A big fucking fool.

The morning after the chaos, I was changing a tire under Gasket’s supervision when I overheard talk about Sam. People were going to notice, especially those with malicious intentions and hard dicks.

“Kane was recruiting a group last night,” Spike was saying. “Talkin’ about takin’ turns and all at once.”

“We would’ve stopped them,” Ram said. “I know we do some pretty fucked-up things in the name of Fortitude, but there’s just some shit I can’t tolerate.”

“She’s gone,” Watts added. “She got out.”

“She got out, or someone helped her.”

Eyes turned toward me, and Gasket nodded at the spanner in my hands.

“You’re not putting enough tension on the bead breaker,” he said. “You’ll never get the tire off the rim that way. Put your back into it, girl.”

“But…”

“I know, but you did your part,” he murmured. “Your part in her story is over now.”

“So I’m just supposed to change fucking tires and not do anything about gang rape?”

“No one gang raped anyone,” Gasket said with a scowl. “You put a stop to that, but if it becomes common knowledge…”

Yeah, I knew. The sound of the gunshot that killed Harley had joined the one I’d been responsible for out on the road. What a fucked-up harmony.

I glanced at the bikers across the garage who were still talking about Sam’s disappearance and swallowed a pile of vomit. They were decent considering what they were—Spike, Ram, Watts, Rhodes, and co—but the rest of the club I couldn’t vouch for. They were the men I wanted to lead, not the violent, psychopathic followers my father had cultivated.

“Yeah, but it’s just for now,” I muttered. “Saving one woman doesn’t fix the problem.”

“Damn, we’ll be here all day.” Gasket snorted and nudged me aside. Taking the bead breaker, he wedged it between the tire and the rim, and the rubber came away from the metal.

“You need to work on your muscles, Sloane,” Watts called out.

“Yeah, you got a set of weights?” I shot at him. “Give ’em here!”

“Focus on what you’re doing,” Gasket said, leaning over me so the other men couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Your life is just as valuable, kid.”

“I know.”

“Doesn’t seem like you believe it.”

“I believe it.” I hissed.

“When Chaser gets back, we have to talk,” he said. “The time for watching and waiting is over.”

“Do you know something?” I straightened up, the tire forgotten.

“I don’t trust Marini,” he said.

There was a slight hesitation, but I didn’t press it. He knew something, and my bet was Chaser did, too. If Gasket didn’t trust Marini, then that meant my time here was running out. Yeah, we were going to have a talk when we were all together. A long, in-depth and very animated talk.

Grabbing a rag, I wiped the grease off my hands.

“I need to take a break,” I said, nodding toward the compound. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” Gasket drawled. “Just don’t go breaking any more noses.”

“Low blow, pops,” I retorted, throwing the rag at his face. “Low blow.”

Flipping the bird over my shoulder, I was sent off with halfhearted laughter. They were still hurting after Marini blew one of their own away. There wasn’t a lot of love for Harley around this place, but he was still Fortitude. The remaining bikers were all watching their backs, wondering who would be next. That was the vibe I had to counteract. I had to give these men security. Fat fucking chance of that.

A civil war was brewing, and Gasket wanted to stoke the fires. When Chaser gets back, we have to talk. Pfft. I just had to look around to know only half of the club would up and follow me.

It was still hot as hell inside the compound. The whole place was as hot as a super volcano about to blow its top.

In the common room, there was another Real Housewives of Fortitude luncheon happening on the sofa. Shondra, Emily, Raquel, Kelly, and Sierra were gathered around an industrial-sized fan, their hair blowing behind them as it swung back and forth. They each had a tumbler of iced tea—who knew what the alcohol to tea content was—and were wearing bikini tops and shorty shorts. They did look awfully depressed, and it wasn’t a result of the humidity. So they did care.

“Hey, Sloane,” Sierra called out when she spotted me.

“Hey…” I eyed them warily.

After their reaction to Sam’s appearance yesterday, I wasn’t sure I could trust them. They’d been almost patronizing…up until the point the gunshot rang out. Psychological warfare seemed to be their usual MO, and I wasn’t down with it at all. I was a straight up in your face, tell it like it is kind of woman. It was probably why I got along with men more than those of my own gender. Hopefully, yesterday had shocked them out of their bad habit.

“You got a sec?” Shondra asked, beckoning me over.

Reluctantly, I ventured over to their little enclave. Kelly scooted over, letting me in on the edge of the fan’s sphere of influence.

“How are you?” Emily asked. “After yesterday, I mean.”

I shrugged. “How am I supposed to feel?”

Shondra snorted and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

“I didn’t like Harley,” I went on, “but he didn’t deserve what he got. Killing… It takes something away from you.” And my dad had done a lot of it.

“You said you killed someone,” Shondra said uneasily. “Did you…”

I nodded. Yeah, I really did that.

An awkward pause halted our conversation, the droning of the fan as it blew around the humid air filling the gap.

“Sam’s gone,” Raquel murmured after a moment. “Her room’s empty, but all her stuff is still there.”

“People are saying she ran,” Sierra said, looking worried. “Where would she go? Everyone knew she had no family. None that wanted her, anyway. We thought we were it.”

“After what happened to Harley, she would’ve been…” Kelly trailed off, looking rather pale.

“It would’ve broken her,” Shondra said, her expression softening. “Sam couldn’t stay here. She’d already been through enough.” She glanced at me.

“She didn’t have any family?” I asked, feeling nauseous. There was so much to Sam I’d never even known, yet… She had a chance now she was out of Fortitude and on her way to Yvette. Yvette would help her get back on her feet, deal with Harley’s death, and start anew.

“She only had Harley,” Kelly explained. “She was kicked out of home at fifteen, and they moved in together. You know what shit is like. I think that’s why Harley joined Fortitude. He couldn’t support Sam or himself, so he did what he was good at.” She shrugged. “She hinted that things were different at the start. The club changed him for the worse.”

I nodded, studying the tattoo on my finger. Sam had said as much, but I hadn’t realized how alone she was. Not anymore, I thought to myself. Now she has Yvette. I know they’ll be best of friends. She’s so much like her.

“I never liked you,” Shondra declared out of nowhere.

“No shit.” I rolled my eyes, making the other women giggle, albeit nervously.

“But what you did for Sam…” she went on. “That was really something.”

“Who says I did anything?”

“We won’t tell,” Kelly said, keeping her voice hushed. “No one looks out for us. Our men do, but not everyone around here is as good as Stewie and Hopper.”

“And Ram,” Emily said with a pout.

“If anything happened to them…” Shondra began before trailing off.

“What we’re trying to say is that we’re on your page,” Raquel finished for her friend.

“All of us,” Sierra said.

Shondra held out her fist and smiled. “Anything happens, we got your back, girl.”

I raised my eyebrows, not knowing how I did it. If I did anything at all.

Shondra clucked her tongue and wiggled her fist at me. “Bump it, girl.”

Raising my fist, I bumped, causing the group to giggle like a pack of school girls. Thinking about high school and the cafeteria hierarchy I’d struggled with when I was a teenager, I smirked. There was no way these women would’ve been friends with me back then. I was so not a part of any crew. Popular, outsider, or anything. I was a solo troublemaker. Now I was emerging as a strong ally.

Maybe there was something in this, after all. The game wasn’t lost. Not completely. While there was a chance, I would still fight. For Chaser, for me, and for the women who were at the mercy of Fortitude.

“Oh, my God!” Sierra shrieked, causing my heart to spasm. “What have you done to your nails?”

“Hell, girl!” Raquel said, slapping her on the shoulder. “Give me a fucking heart attack why don’t you!”

Sierra grabbed my hands and looked like she was about to cry. Full-on flooding rivers of salty, salty tears.

“What?” I asked with a shrug.

“They’re ruined! Look at your cuticles! And there’s glue and acrylic stuck to them. Did you chew them off?”

“I work in the garage,” I said. “It’s not the place for pretty fingernails.”

“Stay right here. I’ve got to clean these up.” She clucked her tongue. “Oh, it’s horrible!”

Letting me go, she rushed from the room. The moment she was gone, the women giggled.

“Wow,” I drawled, not understanding why the state of my nails was so offensive.

“It’s her art,” Kelly told me.

“It makes her happy,” Emily said. “Let her fuss.”

“Your nails do look like shit,” Shondra added. “A little acetone bath never hurt anyone.”

“I’ve got a great moisturizer for after,” Raquel said. “You can lend it if you like.”

I blinked, the fan sweeping in my direction. “Uh, okay?”

Shondra smiled and pulled me into Sierra’s spot, which was a prime position in front of the cool breeze. “You’re one of us now, girl. Part of the crew. Get used to it.”

Staring at my nails, my gaze fell on the healed tattoo on my thumb. I wondered what my father would say about all this. Making friends, settling in. It all felt…temporary, and my heart sank like a rock. I had a bad feeling the past was about to repeat itself, friends or no friends.

Chaser… I thought to myself. Hurry back…