The city morphed into the desert as the convoy left the outskirts of Los Angeles.

Sloane sat behind me on my motorcycle with her arms wrapped around my waist and her crotch melded against my ass. If it had been any other night, my dick would’ve been hard, but it was flaccid as fuck.

Before we’d hit the highway, the group had split off into fives, weaving their way through the suburbs. If anyone were following us looking to take Marini back on the road, they would have a hard time figuring out which group. Five cars with three bikes a piece. We were low on numbers, but it was enough to get the job done.

Sloane and I were following a decoy that held Shondra and Hopper, and Watts and Spike brought up the rear on their bikes.

We weaved our way through the outskirts of the city, watching for any tails, but we managed to escape detection, and by the time we’d finally merged onto route sixty-two, we were clear. The sunrise was the only thing that chased us to Joshua Tree.

Deluca said the property lines crossed those of the National Park, but there were no fences out here, so who knew how much was theirs and how much was his. No one had ever cared to check. I took it to mean his family had done a lot of questionable shit out here.

I brought my bike to a stop and turned off the engine. Peeling off my helmet, I felt Sloane do the same behind me. When her feet were on solid ground, I kicked my leg over and stood beside her.

“Okay?” I asked, keeping my voice low as more bikes and cars rolled in behind us.

Her eyes were on the others, scanning for Gasket no doubt. The dawn was bright, the fire of it lighting her skin with a dusty orange glow.

“With you driving? Always.”

It wasn’t what I meant, but I would take it. My gaze fell to her lips, and for the first time, I hesitated.

“I think they all know by now,” she murmured. “You’re all up in my personal space. If I had a cock, you’d be on it.”

My lips curved, and I dropped my helmet and caught her face in my hand. Our kiss was swift, hot, and did nothing to douse the longing my cock had endured these past weeks. There would be time to fuck. Maybe out under the stars…

Hell, for now, it was enough not to pretend anymore.

“Everyone’s accounted for,” Watts said, his voice breaking Sloane and me apart. “We set the women up in the workshop for now. None of them wanted to stay in the main house.”

“Why?” Ratchet asked. “It would be more comfortable for them.”

“They don’t want to be in the same place as Marini,” was his reply.

“Why not hold him in the workshop?” Rhodes.

“It’s not secure,” Deluca said. He’d know. “There’s a basement under the cabin. It’s tighter than an asshole down there.”

Sloane snorted, and I leaned into her.

Gasket thumped his fist down on the trunk of the car. “Basement it is. Chaser. Give us a hand.”

I glanced at Sloane, and she nodded.

She watched us drag Marini out of the trunk and dump his ass onto the ground. He groaned and squirmed, trying to fight his way free of his bonds. It was a pathetic sight, really. His struggle was pointless. There was no freedom for him anymore.

“Follow me,” Deluca said, leading us into the house.

Gasket and I carried Marini between us. I had his feet, and Gasket had his arms hooked under his shoulders.

The basement had been carved out of the bedrock underneath the house. How they ever got the permits for that, I would never know. Likely, there weren’t any. Either way, it was secure, isolated, and the only place we could keep Marini locked up. If miracles existed and he got free, there weren’t many places he could worm his way out of. Upstairs or through the access window. Beyond, there wasn’t anywhere to go that wasn’t arid and full with the men who’d defected to Gasket.

And Sloane. She was out there, armed with his favorite revolver.

We threw Marini down on a chair in the middle of the dank basement. Gasket pulled out a roll of duct tape from his back pocket and taped him to the metal. A knife split the bonds on his ankles, and he was lashed to each leg of the chair before his arms were secured behind his body. His shoulders looked like they were about to be dislocated, the angle was so unnatural. It looked uncomfortable, which was fine with me.

Finally, Gasket ripped the gag out of Marini’s mouth, tore away his blindfold, and unplugged his ears. It was past time to have a frank conversation. No more manipulation. No more betrayals. Just blood and truths.

“Dog,” Marini said, narrowing his eyes. “After all we’ve been through, you stab me in the back.”

“You would’ve killed us all,” Gasket said, not missing a beat. “You were leading us down a dangerous path, Anthony. Your beef with King was only ever going to end one way.”

“Under me, Fortitude would’ve amassed more power than you could’ve ever dreamed of.”

Gasket shook his head. “You can’t see past your own arrogance.”

“I know how this is going to end,” Marini drawled. “Or how you think it is.”

“It’s not my decision,” Gasket spat. “This is not a dictatorship.”

Marini laughed, the sound sending chills down my spine. He was cold, calculated, and…soulless. It was the only word I could think of that described the amount of fucks the deposed president of Fortitude MC currently gave.

“What deal did you make with them?” Gasket asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Marini smiled up at him, his eyes cold and emotionless, and remained silent. This would obviously be a drawn-out affair…and a very painful one. I fought the ball of rage flaring inside me and clenched my fists. He didn’t care. He truly didn’t give one single fuck about the men he commanded or his daughter.

“You’ll talk,” Gasket said. “Eventually.” He turned his back on his onetime friend and made for the door. When I didn’t follow, he paused. “Chaser.”

I didn’t move, my eyes glued to Marini’s smug face.

“What did she ever do to you?” I asked, my only thoughts for Sloane.

Marini smirked and spat onto the floor. “She looks exactly like her bitch of a mother. I didn’t need the reminder.”

I raised my fist and hit him, the force of the blow jarring up my arm. Marini’s head snapped to the side, and he laughed, his teeth red with blood.

“Betty’s only good for one thing,” he went on, his words hitting me right where it hurt. “A whore like her mother. A sack of blood and guts like your bitch wife.”

I raised my fist again, expecting Gasket to stop me, but he just stood back and let me smash Marini’s face. My knuckles collided with Marini’s face, the collision doing nothing to sate my anger. After a few good hits, Gasket finally stepped in and dragged me away.

“You don’t stand a chance,” Marini said as we walked away. “You’ll never be able to take King. She’s as good as dead.”

We thundered up the stairs, and Gasket slammed the door closed, locking it behind him. It took all my strength not to turn around and shoot Marini’s head clean off, but the thought of Sloane… I couldn’t do it.

Outside, the sun had risen.

Shaking my hand, I stood on the porch, my anger still as hot as ever. Gasket followed me out, his expression just as tense.

“What are you going to do with him?” I asked, looking out over the desert.

“We could set him up and hand him over to the cops,” he replied. “But that would take time and resources we don’t have.”

If things had gone better at the compound, we’d have both those things. Now there was no practicality in holding him for an extended period of time.

I didn’t have to look across the yard to know Sloane was staring at us. The deeper I fell into this thing with her, the more connected I felt to her whereabouts. Sloane was magnetic north. My inner compass would always point toward her.

“You better talk to Sloane about it first,” I said. “He is her father despite the things he did to her. She deserves closure, no matter how fucked up it’s going to be.”

“Yeah,” the old biker muttered. “I will.”

* * *

I walked through the mass of tents, watching the comings and goings of the other bikers with interest. They’d really put together a full-on campground in a matter of a couple of hours.

Ahead, there was a group of men busying themselves behind the house. I recognized Ratchet, Hopper, and Watts going back and forth to a car, taking out boxes and other supplies, and ferrying them over to the clearing.

They were setting up around a circle, taking their places on long logs and various camp chairs. In the center was a pile of ash from a long cold campfire that would probably be lit by the time the sun went down. They had two cases of beer, various guns and weapons lying at their feet, packets of chips and pretzels, and a large bough of a tree shadowing the whole scene.

There was nowhere else to go out here, so I stepped over the log and sat down. It was bordering on blistering, but there wasn’t much that could be done about that right now. Hopefully, this place was only going to be forced on us for a few days. Then we could reclaim the compound, and Sloane would petition Gasket to get the air conditioning fixed. It seemed like something she would do.

“You and Sloane, huh?” Ratchet asked, handing me a beer.

“Where’d you get this from?” I asked, looking at the label.

“Bones brought it,” he replied. “But you didn’t answer my question, asshole. When did that happen?”

I shrugged. “Who knows? One second you’re whatever, the next…”

Hopper laughed and popped the top off his beer. “Was the same with Shondra. Bitch just walked up and grabbed my balls.”

“Good for you,” Ratchet said, punching me in the arm. “Never thought you had a heart.”

“Only a tough bitch could take him,” Watts said, taking a bottle from the case and sitting on the end of the log.

I grunted and opened my beer, immediately necking it.

“It was you, wasn’t it? Who got Sam out of the compound. You and Sloane.”

I scowled, not liking how big Watts’s mouth was getting. He talked too much about the wrong things.

“Rocket would’ve—”

“Shut your mouth,” Ratchet said with a growl. “We know what Rocket would’ve done. She’s gone. Good for her. She didn’t deserve that.”

“And Harley did?” Watts asked.

“Marini shot him for his own gain. It had nothing to do with Sloane. He was just looking for an excuse to have us all running scared,” Hopper declared. “We all saw what Harley was doing to Sam, and none of us did anything.”

“What’s going on with Marini?” Rhodes asked, changing the subject before fists came out. “Any news?”

“Don’t know,” I replied. “Gasket’s still working him.”

“But you went in there with him,” Watts argued. “Are you lieutenant now or something?”

“No,” I snapped. “I’m there on Sloane’s behalf. Besides, someone else deserves to be Gasket’s second.”

“Like who?” Hopper asked, scratching his beard.

“We’ve got bigger fish to fuck up the ass,” Ratchet replied. “That shit will come later. Anyone who wants that will have to prove themselves in all this.”

“Ol’ Rat Shit here is right,” Spike said, joining us. “A lot of stuff has to go down before we can get Fortitude back up. I’m just glad we got Marini out. I didn’t like where he was taking the club. A little blood now versus an ocean of it later. I know which was my pick.”

“Me, too,” Watts said, taking another sip of his beer.

“On that, we agree,” Ratchet replied.

“What do you think, Chaser?”

What I thought didn’t matter. When this was over, I was entirely sure I was going leave the club and never look back if that was what Sloane and I agreed on. Ultimately, it depended on what happened next.

If her father lived or died. If Gasket, her ‘adopted’ father figure, wanted her to stay. If we couldn’t get a handle on the Hollow Men.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” I said, voicing my thoughts. “I trust Gasket. I’ll follow his lead.” For now.

“Shit, if Chaser, of all people, trusts Gasket, we should all be in one hundred percent,” Spike declared.

“That’s why we’re here,” Ratchet said, smacking him on the back of the head. “No one plays his part in a hostile takeover without all that.”

Lifting my beer to my lips, I thought about Sloane. All in, one hundred percent. I couldn’t leave her now.