I watch Brooke as she gets in her car and leaves. When she’s gone, Angel comes up behind me.

Silently, we mount our bikes and head to the clubhouse.

There ain’t nothing to say right now. Not until we get some answers.

That doesn’t mean that I’m not ready to explode. To purge the shit that’s coursing through my veins like poison.

Anger. Disbelief. Disgust.

I can’t believe Rock was raping little girls. But there’s no other way to explain what Brooke just told us.

I have no fucking idea what’s going on. And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to.

But whatever it is, we have to get to the bottom of it. For the good of those little girls, and for the club.

Angel and I head straight up the stairs as soon as we get to the clubhouse. As we climb, I hear Rock’s voice shouting through the closed door of his apartment.

“You knew!” he’s roaring. “I don’t fuckin’ care! You knew they were gunning for the Lords! You got me into this, you fuckin’ piece of shit! You set me up! You set my fuckin’ club up!”

Angel frowns at me. Inside, no voice answers Rock, so he must be on the phone.

“You listen to me, you asshole,” Rock continues. “You think you got the upper hand now, but I will fuckin’ end you, you hear me? I will end you!”

There’s a loud crash, followed by a string of obscenities. Angel waits a couple seconds, then pounds on the door.

“Rock! You in there? I need to talk to you.”

Rock comes to the door. “Yeah?” he growls. He’s face is red, and contorted into a scowl. He’s wearing a black Harley T-shirt and faded jeans. Just below the left sleeve, the bottom half of the tattoo Natalia saw is visible. My stomach wrenches in disgust.

“Can we come in?”

Rock glances from Angel to me. “Sure,” he says, stepping back so we can enter. “What’s up?”

Angel pauses. “You sounded pretty mad just now. Something wrong?”

“Nah, nah. Everything’s good.”

“Yeah? Who were you talking to?”

Rock bristles. “Ain’t none of your business.”

“No?” Angel challenges. I can see him starting to get angry. “You were talkin’ about the club, brother. About us bein’ set up. I think that means it is our business.”

“Listen, you asshole, I’m the president of this club,” Rock spits out, jabbing his own chest with his thumb. “You fuckin’ answer to me, you got that? Not the other way around.”

“Yeah,” Angel nods, with a slight sneer. “I got that.” He takes a step forward. “Okay, Rock. Let’s change the subject. Talk about what we came to talk to you about.”

Rock relaxes a little. “Okay. What do you need?”

Angel walks over to the small living room and takes a seat in one of the chairs. He motions for us to follow. I take the other chair, and Rock settles down on the couch.

“So, we got a little problem. The club does.” Angel leans forward, elbows on knees, steepling his fingers. “I don’t know if you heard about this when you were in the hospital, but there’s an FBI agent in town. She’s been investigating a trafficking ring.” He pauses. “A sex trafficking ring.”

Rock’s face goes stony. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Angel looks at Rock for a long moment. “See, the thing is, one of the girls who was being kept in this ring, she escaped. And she’s been talking to this fed chick. Apparently, she was able to describe one of the men who was fuckin’ her in this ring.” He leans back in his seat, and fists one hand in the other, cracking his knuckles. “Lords of Carnage cut. Gray hair. White beard. Tattoo of a skull pointin’ a gun on his left arm.” He pauses. “Kind of specific, don’t you think?”

Rock snorts. “Yeah. That’s pretty specific. So?”

I cock my head, barely believing what I just heard. “So? You don’t think this is a problem?”

He shrugs. “Lots of guys in MCs around here. Lots of guys with tats.” He smirks. “And ink can be changed.”

“Jesus fuck, Rock,” Angel mutters in disgust. “These chicks are just kids, most of them. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“They were old enough!” Rock shoots back. “And since when did you turn into the goddamn Virgin Mary?”

“I ain’t no Virgin Mary, Rock, but at least I’ve got some goddamn limits! You know how old this kid was? Sixteen!” He’s out of his seat now, shouting. “Fuckin’ sixteen! You piece of shit!”

I stand up and put a hand on Angel’s shoulder. I’m practically shaking with anger, but I know we have to find out what Rock knows about this trafficking ring. We need to find out who else is involved.

“Angel, brother.” He shoots me a look of barely concealed rage, but stops shouting. I sit back down as he starts pacing the room. “Rock,” I say, working to control myself. “Who the fuck are these guys? Who’s trafficking these girls?”

“That ain’t important,” Rock shrugs. “The club ain’t involved, right? This is my business.”

“NO.”

Rock and I turn to Angel. His face is furious.

And he’s got Rock’s cell phone in his hand.

“The club’s involved, Rock. And you’re gonna tell us what’s going on.”

“Fuck you, Angel,” Rock says, rising. “You give me that goddamn…”

But before he can finish his sentence, Rock freezes in his tracks.

In Angel’s other hand is his piece. And he’s pointing it at our president.

“Beast,” he says, holding Rock’s cell out to me. “Dial the last number Rock was talking to. Put it on speaker.”

“NO!” Rock shouts, but Angel cocks the gun and holds it higher, aiming it at Rock’s head.

“Do it, Beast,” he says.

I look from one man to the other.

One of these men is a traitor to the club. Whoever it is will be cast out in disgrace. Or worse.

And depending on my choice, so will I.

Reaching toward Angel, I take the phone from him.

I hit the last number Rock called and put it on speaker. The phone rings once, then picks up. An angry voice answers.

“What the fuck, Rock? We’re done here. I told you that.”

Jesus Christ.

I end the call and look at Angel. His lip curls as he stares at Rock.

“Holloway,” he laughs coldly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Jarred fuckin’ Holloway.”

“I will kill you right fucking now, Rock.” Angel stands above him, like the avenging angel he’s named after. “Unless you talk. That’s your only chance of getting out of this room alive.”

“This ain’t what you think!” Rock insists. “I’ll tell you everything, but this was all about keepin’ the club safe!”

“Then you got nothing to worry about by telling us.” Angel leans against the wall. “Go. Before I get sick of holdin’ this gun and decide to do something about it.”

“The ring is Dragon’s.”

“The Outlaw Sons?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “And Holloway’s involved, too.”

“What the fuck?”

“Holloway gave them a place to operate out of in Tanner Springs.” Rock’s eyes move back and forth between us. “A laundromat that was a good front because no one ever went there. Holloway came to me and told me he wanted to broker a deal between our two clubs. Get us cooperatin’. The deal was, Holloway would stop ridin’ the Lords’ asses and look the other way, and in exchange he’d get a small cut of our profits. And, a larger percentage of the cut from the sex ring.”

“Jesus Christ…” I breathe. “You fuckin’ cut a deal with the mayor, without tellin’ us.”

“It was just an agreement! He looks the other way and we’re all good! But that fucker sold us out,” Rock seethes. “He was workin’ with the Outlaw Sons the whole time. To end the Lords, and let the Sons move into our territory once we’re wiped out.” His eyes are like dark stones. “I want that fucker destroyed. Holloway is a fuckin’ dead man.”

“You fuckin’ cut a deal with the mayor. Without the club.” Angel is shaking his head. His tone is flat, emotionless. “Did you actually think you could get Holloway under your thumb, the way you had my dad when he was mayor?”

“I thought I could strike a deal,” Rock retorts. “The club wasn’t too sure about your dad back in the day, either!”

“But at least you fuckin’ told the club you were dealing with Abe!” Angel bites out. “You did all this behind the club’s back!”

“I did it for the Lords…”

“You betrayed the Lords!”

The look of hatred on Angel’s face is so complete, for a second I think he’s gonna shoot Rock. His pistol is aimed directly at our president’s head. Rock freezes, staring down the barrel of the gun.

“Holloway sold you down the river,” Angel rasps. “Sold us into a war. And you walked us right into it.”

In my pocket, my phone buzzes. I ignore it.

“I should fuckin’ kill you right now,” Angel tells Rock. “But I’m not going to. The club will decide your fate.”

Rock pales. “The Lords will know I did this for them,” he says, but his tone says he knows otherwise.

“We’ll see.” Angel nods at me. “Beast. Go call up a couple of the men to stand guard outside Rock’s door until I can call church.”

I walk out of Rock’s apartment, knowing that as soon as I do this, the Lords of Carnage will never be the same.

Downstairs, I find Tank and Striker.

“Brothers, something’s up,” I say. “Angel sent me down here to get two men to stand guard outside Rock’s door.” I pause. “Make sure he doesn’t try to leave.”

The two men stare at me. “Are you fucking serious?” Tank murmurs.

“Yeah.” I take a deep breath. “I know what I’m asking you. I know it ain’t an easy thing for you to say yes to. But some serious shit has gone down. We need to call church.”

“Fuck.” Striker reaches up and rubs his neck. “Fuck. Yeah. Okay.”

I look at Tank.

He pauses a beat, then nods, looking somber. “Yeah.”

The three of us head upstairs. Tank and Striker stay outside, while I go in. Angel’s still got his gun trained on Rock. I frisk him, finding a knife in his boot, and grab the gun that’s sitting on the table in the kitchenette.

“You brought the FBI down on us, too, Rock,” Angel’s saying as we get up to leave. “You’re gonna have to answer for that in church, too.”

I don’t know what I expect Rock’s reaction to be, but he actually laughs.

“That’s the least of our problems,” he says. “If we go down, Holloway goes down, and he knows it. His men are takin’ care of the FBI gash.”

I freeze. “What?” I snarl.

“She ain’t gonna be able to tell anybody jack shit,” Rock continues with a shrug. “If she’s still alive, she ain’t gonna be for long.”

“Motherfucker!” I shout. I take a step toward him. Suddenly, I don’t care about doing the right thing. I don’t care about club justice. I just want to wrap my hands around his throat and watch the life go out of his eyes.

“Beast!”

Someone is pounding at the door. Jewel’s muffled voice is calling my name. Giving Rock a murderous look, I turn and grab the knob, flinging it open.

“They said you were up here! Oh, thank God!” Jewel’s eyes are wide, her face pale. “You have to go! It’s Brooke! Her car’s been run off the road!”